#I’m a bit burnt out right now so I’m not in the “fic making” mood - I wouldn’t hold your breath on seeing this guy in any written works

[kaythefloppa]

TLK - Brutus

“There are two kinds of pain in this world, the pain that hurts, [and] the pain that alters"

Very few people know this (myself included until earlier this year) but in the early drafts of The Lion King II: Simba’s Pride, the villain of the sequel was supposed to be a rouge elephant that was given the prototype name of Brutus (because Shakespeare, I guess?) instead of Zira. He would’ve been the leader-turned second in command of his own outcasted group of animals, Kovu included, as he was the son of Scar, and plotted with the hyenas to use Kovu as a puppet king to rule the Pride Lands in Simba’s place.

As time went on, he was phased out, and in the final film, Zira and the Outsiders became the villains. Some production notes involving the elephant’s role in the story can be found here on Worthpoint (A.K.A. The fucking goldmine of TLK 2 production media).

I knew I immediately had to include this guy into my fanon, (which takes a lot of inspiration off of early drafts of the movies) bc the idea sounded pretty badass: I was already planning on having an elephant villain in my verse, but since I’m a total hack, I decided to use this semi-canon elephant villain and away I went to the writing and drawing board.

More info under the cut

With the end of Scar’s reign and the banishment of the Hyenas who had followed him came the return of Aminifu’s elephant herd. Amongst their ranks was a calf known as Butu (dull) who was the last-born before the elephants’ migration their ancestral home. The youngster hadn’t ever met Scar or his followers, but saw the kingdom’s metamorphosis from a barren wasteland to a flourished habitat.

He was incredibly curious of this new place that they would call home, and this excitement grew even more when other animal herds had followed the elephant’s migration. Being a youngster who up until that point didn’t interact with other animals, this was his calling to play. But he wasn’t always the most mindful of his endeavors, as with any kid who wasn’t properly taught to be careful when excited. Without even knowing it, he had almost inadvertently stepped on two infant lion cubs, and would have faced the gruesome sight if not for the roar of an angry lioness who swiftly took her cubs from under his hooves and slapped poor Butu on the cheek. Despite his apologies, Butu was faced with severe harassment from the lioness and a few others who stood by her side, and all in front of the watchful eyes of animals who’d been attracted by the noise. Fearing scrutiny from his herd, he refused to reveal the origin behind his injury, until the animals of the Pride Lands were called to Pride Rock for an important event; 

The same lioness was on trial for a similar attack on the king, and her family seemed to support her. Simba ordered them all out of the Pride Lands, with many animals booing and hissing at them to leave and never return. Even for a child, he felt a strange satisfaction of making fun of someone after they had hurt him, even joining in on the mockery, launching whatever childish insults he could, backed up with the rest of his angry herd. He learned a lot that day; About Scar and his hyenas, about Zira and her followers, and about who Simba was. But most of all, he learned about a little thing known as karma… and he certainly wouldn’t forget it — among many things.

Roughly a year after Aminifu’s funeral did Butu come of age to decide whether or not he would stay in his herd or live life as a rouge. Butu’s love for his herd remained strong, but he had chosen to separate himself from his herd and join a bachelor herd in another forest section of the Pride Lands. With the elephant’s maturity under the peaceful reign of Simba, life went well for him… until the day of the Crown Princess’s first hunt.

The Pride Lands were set ablaze, trapping Butu and his herd as if they were in an ambush. In all the chaos between trying to protect each other, and help other animals that were trapped in the inferno, the rouge was separated from his bachelor herd forever, and found himself engulfed in flame, seeing many feline-like figures running across the plains before blacking out.

In the aftermath, parts of his ear had been burnt off and several areas on his leg were swollen. His injuries made himself an easier target for predators, earning him even more injuries. The rest of his herd was gone, and his birth-herd was on migration as many herds were that season. For a while it looked like he was alone. Until a few days later where the King and Queen sought out survivors of the bushfire, and ensured that they’d all be treated by the Mjuzi. Seeing other animals with the same struggles as him eased his mind, and it wasn’t long until he had new faces to call friends. His empathy, sympathy, and his generosity earned him the unofficial title of the leader of their little “gang.” Things seemed to be making a slow incline upwards.

Until Kovu showed up.

News quickly spread that the savior of the Crown Princess during her botched hunt was none-other than Kovu, the hand-chosen heir to King Scar. Kovu’s integration into the Pride Lands, as per compliance with Mufasa’s law of debt repayal made several animals talk. Some guessed it was a ruse. Others believed his claims of having left Scar’s pride. Butu was curious above all else. He recognized Kovu as one of the 2 little cubs he nearly trampled on, the cubs who were carried away from the Kingdom. Now he was an adult and had saved the future queen from certain death. Both of them were survivors of the fire, so he was able to relate to them, even if they had been luckier than he was.

As Kovu’s time in the Pride Lands prolonged, Kovu interacted more and more with the subjects of the royal family, Butu included. The young lion seemed to be very sympathetic towards the survivors of the fire, always incredibly apologetic for what happened to them and for not being able to help them. His apologies were met with some understanding, it was a horrible circumstance. It wasn’t exactly his fault. It’s not like the fire was planned and that Kovu had specifically singled out only the Princess to be rescued above all else? Right?

When Simba had returned to Pride Rock, injured, and with the claims of an ambush, the kingdom went into an uproar, making sure that the backstabbing murderous Outsider was out of their home once again. But Butu and his gang weren’t satisfied with seeing him flee. They analyzed the King’s story; How Kovu supposedly lied about joining the pride, used the Princess to get close to him, and ambushed him with Zira. There was one thing missing. The fire. The fire that had threatened Kiara’s life before Kovu intervenened. Either that was a lucky variable that the rouge lion exploited… or it was planned. With how the fire came out of nowhere, it was easy to assume how it happened,

Butu, amongst his group, was none-too-pleased at this. Kovu was the source of his problems. Whether it’d be him directly or with help, hen thinking, the elephant and his crew vacated the Pride Lands, following Kovu’s trace to find him and perform vigilante justice on him. It had taken days until they found their trail doubling back home, only now, things were different. There was talks in the Pride Lands about the Outsiders, but not in the way the outcasts expected.

Kovu, the lion accused of attacking Simba, was now engaged to Princess Kiara. His sister, who was allegedly responsible for the fire that he exploited, that nearly killed him, had become leader of the new Lion Guard in Kion’s absence. This was enough for the elephant. The Outsiders had taken so much from him, were the devils in his eyes for as long as he could remember,  and yet here they were, basking in the sunlight, rewarded by the monarchy and cheered by his fellow Pride Landers. He wouldn’t stand for it. Not. One. Bit. All that mattered now was justice. Kovu had to go. Vitani and her Lion Guard had to go. All of Scar’s loyal followers had to be exterminated.

Giving up his old name, and dubbing himself Brutus in reflection of his tormented soul and his recent violent tendencies, the rouge and his gang reserved himself to the abandoned Elephant Graveyard, where no one would hurt them again. It didn’t matter that there was less food in the Graveyard, or that they had friends and family left behind. All that mattered to them now was justice. Kovu had to go. Vitani and her Lion Guard had to go. All of Scar’s loyal followers had to be exterminated. With the royal family united as one with the former exiles, they were a liability that had to be worked around carefully. But with the elephant’s brute strength, calculating mind, and a support group, he wouldn’t let anything stand in his path to level the playing field…

~~~

Character Notes:

Brutus and Mtoto are second cousins in my headcanon (i.e. Mtoto’s mom is the first cousin to Brutus’s mom or dad). I’m considering having Brutus’s branch of the family tree being OCs since I can’t really find a way to retroactively make any of the canon elephants his parents.

Since I age the characters like humans, and because I want to clear some air with both myself, and the audience about the timeline, he is 4 years old when his herd returns to the Pride Lands, 5 years old when Zira and the Outsiders are banished and Kiara is born. He’s 8 years old when Mtoto is born. When Aminifu dies he’s 17 years old. He is 18 when he leaves the herd (likely midway through Season 1). He’s 22 during Kiara’s first hunt, going closely on his 23rd year.

Voice-Canon: Denzel Washington (Robert McCall from The Equalizer trilogy)

My fanon of the events of TLK 2 are mostly canon-compliant (..mostly, I’ll try to illustrate the details in another post). So a lot of Brutus’s original story I had to alter or nix altogether for the sake of my verse. The biggest example of the change being where Simba yells at and humiliates him for almost crushing Kiara/Shani by accident. I felt like that was too out-of-character with canon!Simba (which I’m sticking true to in my AU) so I transplanted that situational archetype onto Zira, replacing Shani/Kiara with Vitani and Kovu, to make it feel more in-character, and to give a sense of irony to the later events of his story. This, I feel, also helped to expand Brutus’s hatred of the Outsiders, and why it hits hard to him when he realized the truth about what they’ve done and where they’re at.

According to a user on Deviantart who purchased the early scripts and production notes of Simba’s Pride, Brutus’s gang consisted of two twin cape buffalos (erroneously noted as water buffalos, one or both of them being voiced by comedian Paul Rubens,) a rhinoceros and a tick bird (the latter of whom would’ve been written to be Zazu’s wife in the story), and Kovu himself. I’ve recycled that ‘gang’ and that overall concept in my fanon (mainly so that the reveal of Kovu’s betrayal can be a valid motivating factor for Brutus’ downward spiral). I’m also considering having a giraffe in the gang because more herbivore villains are awesome.

This guy more than likely won’t appear in Roar Towards the Future, but will probably appear in a separate interquel story that takes place in the Pride Lands.

The background is edited by knightmare1985

I own nothing but the art. TLK belongs to Disney. 

#The Lion King #the lion king 2: simba's pride #the lion king 2 simba's pride #the lion king 2 #the lion king ii: simba's pride #Lion King fanart #Disney #disney jr. #the lion guard #Elephant #semi canon #Really wish they kept this guy in the story #Not only would it have made a lot more sense than the Outsiders but it would’ve led for a far better conflict #I’m a bit burnt out right now so I’m not in the “fic making” mood - I wouldn’t hold your breath on seeing this guy in any written works #But you never know

[pikapeppa]

Hello again! I've got a question for you and I don't think this one will require a full tutorial like the last writing question I asked you 🤣 I know you often juggle multiple fanfics. I'm curious about how you juggle them! Do you focus on one chapter for one fic at a time, do you hop back and forth between fics whenever inspirations strikes, do you alternate or otherwise have any kind of structure you impose on yourself with multiple longfics in progress? I'm currently juggling two longfics, a sequel to my first longfic (Thanks again for all your tutorials that helped me complete that one!!!) plus some pwp oneshots along with the series, and an AU featuring the same pairing.

I'm writing my sequel and the oneshots in past tense and the AU present tense (Don't ask me why I did that to myself 🤣) so when I try to hop back and forth I often get my tenses mixed up. So I've been only focusing on one at a time and alternating them. But I feel like my updates are sparse because of it! I might be updating every 2 weeks, but that means each fic is only getting an update once a month.

I realize I don't owe anyone updates more frequent than I can manage, but I'm all about working smart, not hard. I'd love to hear what works for you in juggling multiple fics!

As always, you're a hero, an inspiration, etc, etc. Thanks for putting your incredible writing into the world and for sharing your methods with the rest of us to make writing seem less overwhelming!!!

Hahahaha so you’re asking this excellent question at a strange time in my writing life where I’m starting to get a little burnt out by my current fic series, and I’m considering whether I need to shift my own writing practices/habits… so this might end up being a longer and more rambly/less helpful answer than you were hoping for. 🤣 And I’ll put it beneath a cut to save everyone’s dashes!

When I’m juggling more than one fic, which is most of the time, my decisions for which one(s) get prioritized basically comes down to this: I work on whichever fic(s) has me the most jazzed at any given time. If I’m equally fired up about more than one fic, I’ll focus on both of them pretty equally, and if there are any additional fics, they’ll get attention when the mood strikes. Sometimes, like when I was juggling Lovers In A Dangerous Time and Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me, this ended up meaning that each fic got a chapter (or more) every week, because I was equally excited about both fics. But when I was writing for Horizon Forbidden West last year, the fic that got attention fluctuated more depending on where my libido mood lay: I started with my favourite boy Drakka, then got sucked into fleshing out my Kotallo fic while the Drakka fic took second-fiddle for a bit, so I was only adding to it whenever the mood struck. When my Kotallo fic was done, I hyperfocused on the Drakka fic again until I got the idea for my post-Burning Shores Kotallo/Aloy AU, and then for a solid 4-6 weeks, that fic was the only thing I was writing while my beloved Drakka patiently awaited my attention again. 🤣 So there’s no single formula I stick to when it comes to juggling fics; what it really comes down to is that I’ll focus on whichever fic(s) I’m the most jazzed and excited to write. 

Now here’s the thing. At first blush, this might sound obvious; of course I’m working on the fic(s) that I’m the most fired up and excited about. That’s what we fic writers do, right? We’re doing this for the love of the story, in our own time, for free, and we don’t owe anyone anything, so of course we write whatever we personally are most excited about, right?

Not always. For me personally, I’ve gotten into a habit over the years of holding myself to personal deadlines. If I don’t publish at least one chapter of something every week, I feel like a failure or a slacker, or like I'm disappointing my readers. And if I’m working on more than one fic equally, like I’m doing right now with Astarion and Halsin, I feel like a failure if I haven’t put out a chapter for both fics each week. 

This is not a good habit. It’s not a nice way to think about my own writing, and it’s not nice to myself to hold myself to this kind of standard. The reason I mention this is that you mentioned concerns that your updates are getting sparse because of the alternating, so I can see that you’re starting to get into the holding-yourself-to-deadlines habit — and I can speak now from experience that this is a mindset that you don’t want to get entrenched in, if you can avoid it, because it’s starting to make me feel bad about myself as a writer for literally no good reason. 

I get the idea of wanting to work smarter, not harder. But when it comes to fic writing, I worry that the smarter-not-harder attitude is a symptom of hustle culture, of trying to get more done in less time -- and I can’t lie, that worries me a little, because fic writing is a labour of love in the truest sense of the word. It is work, hard work sometimes, and it takes time and passion, and I worry that aiming to hit update deadlines will take away from the reasons that you started doing this in the first place. I genuinely think that the best and healthiest way to think about this is that you — and I! — should focus on the story/stories that you are the most excited about. If you’re loving all three of your fics equally, then alternate between them! Don’t beat yourself up for mixing the tenses (it happens, it’s a whole ass mood 🤣) or for the updates being sparse! Just work on what sparks joy, and enjoy the creative journey! Importantly, importantly, you do not owe updates to anyone, including to yourself, so the joy of the writing really should be the focus. 

I hope this doesn’t come off as being too preachy; if it is, just chalk it up to me telling these things to myself as much as I am to you. 🥰🙏 

I honestly have no idea if this is helpful, but maybe it’ll be a little insightful? And if anything, maybe you can be encouraged by the fact that your heroes are flawed and fallible too! Or maybe it’ll be a disappointing ‘don’t meet your heroes’ thing hahahaha. But I hope not. 🤣💀

— all the love and support from your friendly neighbourhood Pika! xoxo

#pikapeppa talks #fanfic writer's life #fic writing #fanfic writing #pikapeppa writes

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

hi! happy new year! first off, i love your interpretation of eddie so much, he always seems so much like himself in your fic to me, so i wanted to say how much i appreciate your attention to detail with his character, he has such a warmth that is hard to find translated in fic. secondly, my request: as a person with chronic illness and depression it can be very difficult to get myself to shower sometimes, so i was wondering if you could do something where eddie coaxes the reader into the shower, to help her feel more herself when it’s been a while? i don’t really want smut just like comfortable intimacy if that makes sense. hopefully this isn’t too specific, you can really make this into whatever will be fun for you, i haven’t read a fic of yours i didn’t love!

first of all, THANK YOU 🥰🥰🥰🥰 that’s so sweet of you to say! every time i write i fic i always try to put a lot of detail into his character when i write since i know he didn’t have as much screen time as the other main characters but with what we were given i really wanted to try and go deeper into that :) and i deal with something very similar to this! honestly i feel like Eddie would totally understand why it gets difficult to keep up with hygiene and things like that, and i know exactly how he would help when you get into moods like that 🥰

Care Package

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- Mentions of depressed reader

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian

Words- 1.2k

Eddie knocked on the door to your bedroom, a little bag of goodies for you in his hand.

He had been talking to you regularly, that would never change, but it’s been a few days since he’d actually seen you and he knew exactly why.

He knew that sometimes there would be periods of time that would be harder for you than others, times where it was difficult for you to leave your room or keep up with things like showering, teeth brushing, even brushing your hair, and he never wanted you to feel bad about things like that.

It was just something he knew would happen every once in a while and he never wanted you to think that he thought things like that made you any less of the love of his life. He wanted to be there to help you, and that’s exactly what he planned on doing that day.

You opened your bedroom door and when you saw him, your tired eyes lit up and your lips curled into a smile, your arms wrapping around his torso into a tight hug,

“Eddie what are you doing here? I’m gross right now, i don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You shush, you’re not gross, if you were gross i wouldn’t want to kiss you like i do right now.” He leaned down and placed little kisses all over your face, making you giggle before he pressed his lips to yours.

You led him into your room and he shut the door behind him, setting his bag down on your bed next to you,

“What’s all that?” You asked him, taking a peek into the bag, but he quickly snatched it up to keep you from looking inside.

“It’s a surprise, so no peeking!” He set the bag next to his feet on the floor and sat next to you, grabbing your hairbrush from your nightstand as he moved to sit behind you, “Your hair has a few knots in it sweetheart, let me get these while you tell me about your day.”

He slowly and carefully ran the hairbrush through your hair, making sure to be gentle each time he came to a new knot or tangle as you told him about everything that had been going on in the last few days since he’d seen you.

How you were able to see your friends a few days ago and have some time to catch up with them, all the new movies you heard that were coming out next month that you were wanting to see, and you were wanting to be honest with him about everything so you told him that you were feeling a bit burnt out with everything that was going on and it was getting a bit difficult for you to remember to do some things in your daily routine. He sat behind you, brushed your hair, and listened to every little thing you had to say.

As obnoxious as he was in school, he was a damn good boyfriend.
He finished brushing through your hair and set the brush back down onto your nightstand, reaching over and grabbing the plastic bag and setting it next to him,

“Alright sweetheart, ready for your surprises?”

You nodded excitedly and turned to face him,

“What did you get?”

He reached into the bag,

“So i know you told me you were getting a little down lately, and it was getting harder to do the stuff in your routine, so i got you some new stuff that might make it more fun!” He pulled out a pack of mint gum and a red tube of toothpaste with a pack of two toothbrushes, “I saw this strawberry flavored toothpaste at the store and figured that might taste better than the normal minty stuff, and when you don’t have time to brush your teeth in the morning i got you some gum to keep in your purse! And i got you a new toothbrush too, and you can keep one here and i can put the other one in my bathroom at home so you’ve always got one there,” He set them down on your bed in front of you with a smile as you watched him reach back into the bag, “I also found a new scrubby for you in the shower, and i got you a new set of body stuff for the shower!” He handed them to you and you giggled as you took them.

It was a full set of body care, a wash, a scrub, a lotion for afterwards, and it was all in your favorite scent.

“And i looked all over for the body spray to match it, but they were all out, so i drove a little out of town and got you a full sized one instead of one of the little travel ones.”

He reached into the bag once more and pulled out the body spray to match the rest of the body care he had gotten you and searched around in the bag for a few more things,

“And i know that sometimes it’s hard for you to want to take a full shower so i got you a few packs of baby wipes. And i got you some snacks too!” You giggled at his excitement as he dumped the rest of the bag out onto your bed, picking up each thing to show you,

“I got you some gatorades in the color you like to make sure you stay hydrated, some of those cereal bars to eat when you forget breakfast in the morning, and i got you some of your favorite snacks! I know it’s not always great to eat nothing but snacks, but i would prefer you to eat junk than to not eat at all.”

Eddie’s generosity was enough to bring tears to your eyes. He had brought you little things every now and then but never a big care package like this, and you could tell that he was worried for you. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in close to you for a hug,

“Thank you Eddie…”

He softly wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead,

“Of course sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me! I love you, and i just want to make sure that you’re always ok.”

He held you in his arms for a moment, slowly rubbing his hands over your back,

“And i was thinking maybe you and me can have a night to ourselves tonight? If you want i can help you test out that new scrubby and body wash in the shower?” You giggled and blushed a bit as he held you close, leaning up to kiss over his jawline,

“Maybe. To be honest baby, i’m not really in the mood to get frisky, but if you wanted maybe we can shower and then snuggle after? I’m still not feeling the best…”

Eddie smiled and stood up from your bed, picking you up into his arms,

“Of course sweetheart,” He reached down and picked up the new body care he had gotten you, along with the scrubby, and handed them to you, “and afterwards we can watch whatever movie you want, and i’ll order us some takeout.”

You smiled up at him and pressed your lips to his cheek sweetly as he brought you into the bathroom,

“You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #request

[brandogenius]

neeed more phoebe and ya similar to spiraling fic i love their relationship so bad

(this has been in my drafts for a while + not proofred. was contemplating on posting it or not but have y’all phoebe & younger artist crumbs)

‼️RPF‼️

ONE SHOT - phoebe & younger artist - frustration

word count: 673

“i can sense tension” you stopped strumming your guitar, hands sweaty, fingers callused, frustration and anxiety settled deep in your chest. phoebe was stood at the opened door to the backstage room, staff and crew were flying past phoebe at a million miles per second, busy and in a hurry to get ready for the show tonight.

“the vision.. isn’t visioning- this stupid guitar” you grumbled, roughly setting the guitar down onto the ground by your feet. your notes app was opened on your phone, disregarded to the side of the couch. phoebe walked over, sitting down beside you. “im sure it is-“

“it’s really not.” you cut phoebe off with a heavy sigh as uou ran a hand through your hair in frustration. it wasn’t working and it had you stressed- nothing was working. everything was wrong. lyrics written in the notes app but no cords or pattern seemed to fit the vibe. you gave up

“the struggles of being a musician. we’ve all been there.” phoebe chuckled to herself. picking up the acoustic guitar and propping it into her lap. she busied herself by messing around with chords she heard you play.

“how can you just..pick up from me and create a good melody? why doesn’t it work for me?” you huffed in defeat, slouching back on the couch, eyes scanning phoebe, analysing what she’s doing.

“practice makes perfect. it’s a cheesy saying but it’s true. every musician gets frustrated or burnt out like you are right now. but, that’s what makes a good musician. progression” she stopped strumming, turning to face you with a serious look on her face.

“you can’t force things to happen. it’ll happen naturally. i usually look at stuff for inspiration. go on writing trips, listen to other music. if i find a song that has a good melody, i’ll write down the chord progressions and take inspiration from them” she turned back to the guitar and started to tune it.

“yeah- i get that. sometimes i just feel like.. i’m not a good musician. nothing works right, lyrics are shitty. i look at other songs by i don’t know- muna and i think woah- how can they do that but i’m here like-“

“i’m stopping you right there, kid” phoebe talked over you, sensing where this is going. “i’m not having a repeat of last month. we do not compare ourselves to other musicians and singers. each to their own uniqueness and individuality” she placed the guitar down, turning to face you directly, sitting criss crossed on the couch.

“yeah but-“

“respectfully dude, shut up. you’re an amazing and super talented singer and musician. you put yourself down too much and i don’t like that. that’s not a healthy mindset to have. comparing yourself to other people isn’t good either.”

you looked down at your hands, picking at the nail polish.

“everyone has their own flaws, i do, you do- julien and lucy do too. you let yourself spiral from overthinking about something small to getting yourself worked up and then put yourself in a bad mood which is not good. you can’t be doing this kid, it’s not good for your mental health”

“i don’t really need a lecture from you” you sighed, looking up and staring at the ceiling.

“i’m not gonna lecture you. im only stating the obvious. you’re young, you have so much ahead of you, so much to live for and see. you don’t need to put yourself down. you don’t understand how cool and talented you are. when i first met you i was like ‘damn, that kid’s cool as heck’ and im right!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head a bit. phoebe grinned.

“see? i made you laugh” she patted your thigh and stood up. “don’t spiral into negative thoughts alright? if you find yourself doing it, just come talk to me. don’t bottle shit up until you get frustrated and take your anger out on the poor guitar, alright kid?”

“yeah- i guess so”

“good”

#pom writes #young artist au #phoebe bridgers au #phoebe bridgers angst #phoebe bridgers blurb #phoebe bridgers headcanons #phoebe bridgers fluff #phoebe bridgers one shot #phoebe bridgers fanfic #phoebe bridgers x reader #boygenius x reader #boygenius fanfic #boygenius au #boygenius one shot #boygenius blurb #boygenius headcanons #boygenius angst #boygenius fluff

[faithisyours]

A Salvaged Night

Mountain x fem!reader

Summary: Mountain comes home after a long day of band practice to find you in the kitchen making dinner. Things go slightly awry, but you make the most of your night together.

Warnings: comfort fic to smut, reader has some negative feelings about self, established relationship, knotting (cause who do you think I am?), PIV, oral both receiving, praise kink I guess, unprotected sex, use of tail, a little bit of aftercare

Word Count: 2.7k

Note: This got off track a little but that's what I get for not having a plan when I start writing. This is my first time writing smut so be gentle. If I missed any warnings please let me know. I forgot to write this in my last post but minors DNI. I want to write more so if you have any ideas you want to share feel free to request them. Hope y'all enjoy.

It had been getting late and Mountain still had not come home from band practice, so you decided to start making dinner for the both of you as a surprise. Pasta had sounded like a good idea at the time, but your time management had gotten away from you, and now the pasta water was nearly boiling over, the sauce was getting everywhere, and the chicken was close to burning. In your frazzled state you did not hear the door open, so when two arms slid around you from behind you almost punched the culprit. Almost.

“Oh my Dark Lord! Mountain,” you exclaimed. “I didn’t hear you come in.” You gave him a swift kiss on the lips, then turned back to the disaster that was supposed to be dinner. You moved the pot with the sauce off the hot burner and onto a vacant one, then moved out of Mountain’s embrace to put the colander in the sink. The kitchen had progressively been getting more smokey, but now the smoke alarm decided it needed to go off that instant. You hated the noise, hated how loud it was. The blaring made you want to crawl out of your skin, and Mountain knew this. While your hands flew to cover your ears, Mountain went to get your headphones, which were never far from where you were. He quickly put them on you, then turned the oven off, took the boiling-over pasta and poured it into the colander, then took the slightly-more-burnt-than-is-acceptable chicken out of the oven. He fanned the smoke detector, which finally relented and stopped blaring.

Naturally, you were now upset. You had wanted to do something nice for your partner but instead had made a mess and had to have someone else clean it up. It seemed like this always happened, but today especially, you were not in the mood. Mountain noticed your distress and came closer to you.

“Can I take these off?” he asked gently as he reached up to your headphones. You nodded, and so the headphones came off. The commotion had finally died down, and now what was left was the mess. A tear had worked its way out of your eye and was now slowly making its way down your cheek. Mountain brushed it away with his thumb, then pulled you into a tight hug, a hug that hit all the right pressure points, the ones he was so good at giving.

“I just… I just wanted… to make dinner for you,” you sniffled. Mountain hugged you impossibly tighter.

“I know, my love. And you did. Nothing is ruined,” he assured you. “We can fix it together, okay?” You nodded, sniffling still. His embrace loosened, but he did not fully pull away. You both turned to the stove, the source of all the previous commotion. “I’m gonna open a window, okay?” Again you nodded. He kissed the top of your head, then went to open the window.

You moved to the stove, made sure all the burners were off, then took the drained pasta and mixed it with the sauce. Once that was done, you moved your attention to the chicken. It was pretty burnt, but there were parts that could be saved. You worked to salvage those pieces, starting to feel a little better about the situation. Mountain came back and stood close to you, offering his help in any way you wanted it.

Once the table was set and the food was on the plates, you began to relax. Both of you sat and began eating dinner, which hadn’t turned out too bad. Finally you were able to focus all your attention on Mountain, and you found that he looked drained and slightly annoyed. Internally you began kicking yourself. How could you have not noticed? Was the dinner debacle to blame? Were you to blame? If so, you wanted to fix it, needed to fix it. You couldn’t stand being the reason the love of your life was annoyed at you.

“Are you alright Mounty? You look kinda drained. I hope the dinner fiasco didn’t cause that. If it did, tell me how I can fix it.” You were starting to grow concerned.

Mountain sighed and shook his head. “No, no, darling, don’t worry about me. Practice was just a lot today. Copia was grumpy, which made Dew grumpy, which then made everyone grumpy. It was just long and irritating,” he explained. “But I'm glad to be home now, with you. Thank you for making dinner. I really appreciate it.” He gave you a soft smile. You returned it, reassured by his words.

“Do you want to watch a movie after this? Your choice,” you offered, in hopes it would brighten his mood. He nodded.

“How about Howl's Moving Castle?” he offered. That was a favorite of both of yours. You smiled and nodded in agreement.

Once you had finished dinner and the dishes were in the dishwasher, you both made your way into the living room. Mountain pulled the movie up while you grabbed extra blankets and turned the lights off. You both got settled on the couch, snuggled together and covered in a questionable amount of blankets.

The movie was good, like always, but your attention was on Mountain. On where his hand was, what his fingers were doing. He was just tracing innocent circles on your thigh, but it was distracting. You mirrored his movements with your fingers on his arm, slowly tracing circles, feeling his warmth underneath your touch. He shifted his hand higher up your thigh. Your breathing became shallow. You shifted your hand slowly down to his stomach, continuing to trace invisible circles. Now it was his turn for shallow breathing. Two could play at that game, you thought.

Your eyes were watching his side profile in the dark, his soft lips and strong nose glowing from the screen. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips. You knew what he was doing. He knew you knew. And you knew he knew what you were trying to do, too. His eyes shifted to look at you from the side, but before they could land on you, you turned your face back to the screen. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his smirk grow.

His hand shifted even higher, taking liberties in exploring your soft skin. Heat was pooling at your core. The couch shifted, and before you knew it, Mountain was leaning in close to your ear.

“You trace once more circle on my stomach and I’ll show you all the things I thought about doing to you while at band practice today,” he growled out in a hushed voice. Your cheeks proceeded to heat, your breath hitched, and your hand stilled. But only for a moment. You turned your head and looked directly at him, your eyes locked onto a set of endless green. And you traced one more circle.

His smile grew, his eyes sparkled with mischief, every sign of him being drained or annoyed from earlier was gone. His lips crashed into yours for an all-consuming kiss. It was messy and wet. His hands came up to cup your face, yours went to his waist to pull him in. Your tongues tangled together, turning from quick and lustful to slow and passionate.

Mountain leaned into you, pushing you down onto the couch. He broke the kiss only to push the blankets that were in between the both of you onto the floor. Now there was nothing between the two of you except your clothes. Your need was growing fast, and you could feel Mountain getting harder between the both of you. You continued to kiss and nibble, but you were growing impatient. You reached down to cup Mountain, giving him a soft squeeze, which granted you a groan.

“Not yet, love,” he murmured against your lips, then pulled your hand away from him. Through kisses and licks and bites, he worked his way down your body, giving special attention to your breasts and love handles. Mountain was obsessed with your body, always wanting to touch it or kiss it or lick it. His happy place was at the altar of your body. He worked your clothes off one article at a time, slowly exposing your skin to the air and his lips. Finally you were naked underneath him, while he was still fully clothed, albeit disheveled.

“Spread these for me, would you?” he asked, taping your thighs. You did as you were told, which rewarded you a long lick up your core. Mountain ate you out like it was his favorite thing to do. Probably because it was one of his favorite things to do. He licked and sucked, using his hand to keep you open for him while the other kneaded your thighs and your breasts and your belly. Occasionally he would groan against you, the vibration only adding to your pleasure. Your release was growing closer, evident by the increased frequency of your moaning and whimpering. Mountain picked up the speed a little, his pace remaining strong and steady. He slipped a finger into you, which earned him a loud moan. He then added a second, which was your undoing.

Pleasure coated every sense, blurring time and space and consciousness. You rode the wave of your release for minutes or hours or days, you couldn’t tell, but when you came back to reality, Mountain was still lapping at you. You pushed him away, oversensitive and blissed out. He chuckled, then relented, kissing your thigh then moving back over you.

He kissed your swollen lips, then moved to your jaw, waiting for you to gain your senses back. Once you could finally see straight, you pushed to sit up.

“Your turn,” you whispered into his ear, a grin playing on your lips. You pushed him into a sitting position, then straddled his hips. While your hands worked to undo the buttons of his shirt, you kissed him anywhere you could. His lips, tasting yourself on them, his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. You couldn't get enough. Mountains hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading and sliding anywhere they could. It was very distracting, but finally you got his shirt off, exposing his long, golden torso to you. Next to come off were his pants. You could feel him hard and ready for you, it seemed almost painful. You kissed your way down his chest and belly, sliding off his lap to in between his legs. Your hands worked fast unbuckling and unzipping his pants. You worked his pants and boxers down his legs, throwing them to the side once they were fully off. Finally he was naked before you, just how you wanted him.

You looked up into the earth ghoul’s endless green eyes to find them blown out with desire. Eyes locked with his, you slowly worked small kisses and bites along his thighs, getting closer and closer to where he needed you. He was already a whimpering, moaning mess, and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

Finally you took him into your mouth, his salty-sweet taste coating your tongue. Both of you moaned at the same time. Not all of him fit in your mouth, so you covered the rest of him with one of your hands. Mountain was restraining himself from touching you, afraid he would snap and hurt you. You would have no such thing. With your free hand you guided one of his hands into your hair, making sure your eyes, still locked with his, were full of reassurance. Slowly you began to move, setting a slow and steady pace. His grip on your hair progressively got tighter, the profanities and groans spilling out of him more frequently.

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth,” he babbled. “Your mouth is a blessing from Satan, I swear.” His hand was starting to move your head faster, making you take him deeper, nearly gagging on his length. “Fuck, babe, your mouth feels so good. Taking me like the good girl you are,” he breathed. You moaned at his words, which made his grip on your hair even tighter. His pace grew quicker, his release growing closer and closer.

“Wanna put my knot in you,” he ground out. “Need it.” He pulled your mouth away from him, lifting you up to straddle his hips. He brought your lips to his, tasting himself on you, tangling his tongue with yours. Need was building back up inside you. You lined yourself up with him and sank down, his large size stretching you, the perfect amount of pain and pleasure.

Your hands tangled in his hair, his hands gripping your hips for dear life, you began to slowly roll your hips. Mountain let out a long, low moan, a noise that only added to your own arousal. You loved how vocal he was with you. The first time you had experienced him in this way, it had surprised you how much noise he made. The quiet ones always have tricks up their sleeves, you thought. But now you couldn't get enough of his noises. Every grunt and groan and whimper only made you more wet. Mountain knew this, too.

You could feel his knot growing, the pressure building every time you took him fully into you. Both of you were panting and sweaty, the only thing both of you wanted was release. Mountain shifted his hand down to play with your clit, knowing you weren’t as close as he was to finishing.

“Want you to come on my knot,” he whispered. You moaned, picking up the pace, chasing your high. Mountain kissed down from your lips to your jaw to your neck, surly leaving marks. Good, you thought, you wanted everyone to know you were his. Your pace grew sloppy and more urgent, so Mountain took over, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark. His tail replaced his fingers on your clit, circling and flicking and teasing. You were close, and so was he.

The pressure from his knot was growing, making it difficult to move. Finally, when you felt so full and stretched by him, you came, hard, screaming his name, along with a plethora of other profanities you don’t remember. Not long after, you felt Mountain tense, his grip on you impossibly tight, and come with your name on his lips. You felt his warm release spill inside you, held in by his glorious knot. You were both breathing hard, fucked out to oblivion, leaning on one another for support.

You came back down sooner than he did, so you just held him and played with his hair until he finally came back to reality. He pulled away slightly to look at you, his eyes half lidded and sated. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, then caressed your jaw.

“Do you need anything, love?” he quietly asked. “Any water or anything?” You shook your head. You didn’t want to move, content with staying where you were. But you wanted to make sure he didn’t need anything either, so you asked the same. He shook his head as well, planted a kiss on your forehead, then snuggled you closer to him.

You watched the rest of the movie like that, tangled in each others arms, til you both nodded off to sleep.

#ghost the band #the band ghost #smut #fluff #mountain ghoul #ghost sweden #ghost smut #comfort

[xxblackballoonxx]

The Heart Underneath: J&M Letters 6 (Ch. 26)

***This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. I originally began it in 2016, and then life was life, and now I’m bringing it back because it deserves to be finished! Rating M as of Chapter 10 ***

Chapter 25 Chapter 27  THU Masterlist

The Heart Underneath

Chapter 26: J&M Letters 6 (20 and 21)

November 15, 1916

Dear John,

I’m very happy to write that we’re expecting again. I waited to make sure before I mentioned it to you. He or she will be another May or June baby, we simply must start having these children at another point in the year, love.  I leave it to you to be more strategic in spreading out their birthdays.

Will is doing grand and adds new words to his vocabulary every week, you’ll so enjoy talking to him when you return. He calls Katie “cat” now, and he’s such a good big brother. Sometimes when he looks at me, I see you when we were little. The way you could just look at me and hold my hand, and I felt safe. I’ll never feel safer with anyone else, Johnny. Only you. 

Katie is growing quickly, I think her hair will be like mine. Poll and Ada both say she’s looking more like me every day. I whisper stories to her while she nurses or falls asleep in my arms. Stories about you and I, like when I baked for the first time and burnt everything, but you still ate all of it with praise. No better boy or man than you, John Shelby.

Tommy told us your next leave will be right around Christmas, we’re thrilled to hear it. The only present we need is you here with us, home safe and sound. The children will be so happy to see you, and I will be beyond happy to have you back here with me.  

I miss you the most at night, especially as it’s getting chilly now and you’re not here to keep me warm. I’ve been thinking a lot about that first cold night we slept in your bed naked, laughing as we tried to stay quiet. You were so worried about us getting caught. I think about the way you whispered in my ear, as you put your arms around me, keeping me warmer than any quilts could.  Those are the thoughts that get me through the quiet hours when the babies are sleep. Please stay safe, darling.

We love you always,

Mar, Will, Katie, and Baby #3

Martha stood with her sealed letter in the doorway of the second floor bedroom Tommy and Arthur had been using for their leaves. Tommy was packing his kit to return to France the following morning. The children had brightened his mood, but Martha could still see the flickers of darkness in his eyes, the darkness that was in all three eldest Shelby brothers now.

“Letter for John?” Tommy asked as he reached for the letter.

Martha nodded and handed it him, watching as Tommy carefully tucked it into a small stack of envelopes tied with a string that he would carry in his inner pocket on his trip back.  

“How about you, Tommy, any girls you’ve been writing to in secret?” Martha asked jokingly.

Tommy lifted his head with a small smile and shook his head. He’d seen Lizzie Stark at least a few times every leave back, but that was physical. His heart remained closed after Greta’s death, and he wasn't sure that part of him would ever be the same.

“It’s ok, Tommy, to let someone in a bit.” Martha replied softly, reaching out to touch his arm.

“You always see right into me, don’t you?” Tommy commented.

“Always. Please take care of yourself. And you can write to Lizzie Stark, I swear I won’t tell a soul. Not even John.” 

Tommy laughed and shook his head again, of course Martha would know about his secret visits to Lizzie. Sometimes he swore Martha was a gypsy herself, the way she could speak to John with just a look or touch, the way her children gazed at her so adoringly.  How she could see into the deepest part of Tommy’s broken heart.

Martha walked towards the door, debating sharing the private news. Only Polly knew, Martha choosing to wait until the letter was on its way to John before telling Ada. But she needed Tommy to understand how important it was that John made it home. 

“One more thing.” Martha said, turning back towards him.

“What is it?”

“John and I … we’re expecting again. The news is in that letter I gave you. Tommy, he needs to come home, he needs to meet this baby. Do you understand?” Martha said in an eerily calm voice.

Tommy watched for a moment as Martha put a hand on her middle, looking back at him. Assuming this had happened on John’s last leave, Tommy figured that was another six to seven months of making sure his brother survived. Ideally, he’d survive to the very end. 

“I understand. But, little one, you have to know, this war … it’s getting worse. It’s going to get much worse. I swear on my life, Arthur too, that we will do all we can to get John alive and well back to you.”

The use of her childhood nickname made tears prick the corners of Martha’s eyes. She could see in Tommy’s eyes how serious he was, and how terrified he was deep down. Not that he would die. But that his brothers would. He walked over and hugged her to him.

“I understand.” Martha whispered.

************************************************************************

John lay awake the night Tommy returned to their regiment, already memorizing Martha’s latest letter. Another baby on the way, and he was still here, amongst the cold fields, the mud hardening every night with frost. There was an odd look in Tommy’s eye as he handed John the letter. Haunted.

Now, John tried to comfort himself by thinking back on the night that Martha had written to him about. It had been early November, 1912, and a cold streak had come through Birmingham. He had sat in the kitchen after dinner, the warmth from the oven and the fire mixing with the feelings burning through him as he watched Martha pull a pie from the oven. She set it on the side board, and turned to look at him, smiling as though she could read his mind. And he knew that she did.

He took the stairs as quietly as possible, knowing that Martha would trail up after him after she checked on Finn a final time. He stood by the window in their bedroom (he stopped referring it to his the day Polly allowed Martha to move upstairs the year before), half undressed, lost in thought as the door creaked open. Quiet footsteps across the floor and then Martha’s arms around his waist.

“I’m cold.” She whispered.

“Well let’s warm you up.” John whispered back, turning to take her in his arms.

His thoughts from earlier came rushing back, as her cold hand slid under his shirt, their lips meeting as he walked her back towards the bed. He held up the blankets for her to slide in and then shed the rest of his clothes to the side before joining her. 

Martha found herself under John, his hands pulling up her nightgown over her head, as he somehow managed to keep kissing her. It made her laugh, how desperate he was to touch her. She’d sensed him watching her in the kitchen, long before he realized it.

“We have to be quiet.” John whispered in her ear, as he nudged her legs open further.

He smiled as she put a hand over her mouth, her eyes crinkling as she laughed even more. Her laugh turned to quiet sighs of pleasure as he kissed her neck, linking their hands to the side of her head. He trailed his other hand down her side, holding her hip steady as he sank into her, the feeling making him want to moan so loudly it would wake the entire house up. Instead he buried his head into the pillow, Martha’s hand on the back of his neck.

He moved slowly and quietly as possible, small motions that caused Martha’s breath to hitch in her throat as she felt warmth spread up across her stomach. John was breathing heavily into her chest, kissing her breasts over and over, burying his own sighs into her skin.  

“John … ” Martha whispered.

He kissed her hard as she contracted around him, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stay completely quiet.  He pushed himself inside of her as deeply as he could, reveling in the feeling of her fingers digging into his shoulder.

“This feels so good.” Martha whispered again as he took a breath. 

He looked down into her eyes, pupils wide. Her cheeks flushed, her lips wet, her breasts pushed hard against his chest. The feeling of her pulsing against his shaft. It was too much. He pulled out quickly and she reached down to stroke him, holding him against her as he came. 

Once he cleaned up, he realized that there was no way either of them were getting dressed again. It was too warm, too comfortable, too tempting to sleep skin to skin. He arranged her nightgown at the end of the bed, in case she needed to grab it quickly, and moved his pants to just under the bed where he could reach them.

“Come here to me.” John whispered as he turned around, pulling Martha in against him.

She settled into his arms, back against his chest, as John tucked in the pile of blankets around them. He nestled his head into her hair, wishing that every night could be like this. 

“I’m warm now.” Martha mumbled, sleep taking over.

“I love you, Mar.” John whispered into her hair, feeling her hand squeeze his in response.  

************************************************************************

November 19, 1916

Dear Mar,

I’m so happy to hear the news about a new little one, I cannot wait to see you. Will and Katie as well, but I need to see you, love. I need to have you in my arms, I need to see your eyes, I need to hold your hair.  

That night you wrote to me about, I remember every moment, darling. I think my favorite part was waking up the next morning, watching the sun glint off your hair, and knowing that it will always be you and me. Forever. The way you looked at me that morning when you woke up, that’s in my heart always. 

Tell Will, and my little Kitty Kat, and the baby that I miss and love them all. I look forward to seeing how much they’ve grown and hear about what they have been up to. Driving you crazy, I’m sure.  

Make sure you take care of yourself, too. I look forward to my next leave, when I can hold you and talk to the baby, and just be home with our family. It’s all I think about.  

I love you always,

John/Daddy

PS: Can you bake that Christmas pudding when I come home?

#john shelby #john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #joe cole #martha shelby #martha shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #the heart underneath

[causticsunshine]

flood it like a tidal wave?? I’m curious!!

hiii laur 💗

ok this one is for a fic fest due next year and it's an o/o omegaverse piece, which is something i haven't written for a hot minute but am very excited to get back into! HL are also a bit younger than they are now—ngl i really just wanted to write some LHH without realistically committing to the irl timeline of making him uni age as well—and while i'm still torn between two career paths for harry.... i'm making louis into a tattoo artist 👀

the title is also kind of a dead giveaway to the main plot + fic prompt lmao, so yes expect it to be Spicy, even if it's not going to be as porn-heavy as i originally intended just because i find if i'm writing anything slightly longer and it's mostly all PWP, it's a lot harder for me to actually sit down and write it because i have to be in a particular.... mood to get things done like god why is writing porn so exhausting??

and i'm rewriting my introduction right now, but here's a tiny section i'm planning on keeping.

“I just… I don’t get what the big deal is, that’s all” Harry sniffs, crossing his arms. 

He knows he’s being defensive, childish. Not at all coy about it. Mock that of which you desire for the sake of compensation. But everyone just keeps on talking about it, relating, sharing stories, and he just, well. He’s completely out of the loop and he does not like it.

And it only makes him feel silly when Louis steals but two whole seconds to consider his ruse and deadpans, “So you’re jealous.”

Harry, of course, is quick to defend his own honor, rolling his eyes and giving his head a little shake.

“I am, I am not—“

To which Louis only gives a hard look over his latte. Already decided. His forehead wrinkles slightly as one brow arches slowly upwards, yeah right.

“I’m not,” Harry hisses, petulant.

He scowls at Louis as he sips his cappuccino loudly, in turn accidentally scalding the tip of his tongue as some of the milky espresso slips up under the foam. He winces and sticks his poor burnt tongue out at Louis when he then has the nerve to laugh.

#thanks for the ask laur!! #larrieblr #answered #my fics

[hyungieyoongi]

See You

Pairing: Professor!Hobi x Professor!Reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers + fluff + angst + Hobi and Reader have some personality conflicts at work but should really just make out or something and stop acting like they dislike each other + this entire fic is inspired by Hobi’s look in that gum commercial I mean he screamed professor with that turtleneck and plaid blazer (thank you @moon-write​ for encouraging this vision)

Word Count: 3.2K+

---

“No, no, please tell me you’re joking,” you groaned, eyes scanning over the classroom assignment list posted on the faculty board in the hallway over again, hoping you were seeing things wrong. A third look at the paper confirmed that your fears had in fact come true – you and Hoseok were teaching next door to each other the entire fall semester.

Hoseok was the History of Dance Professor in your department. He was hired at the beginning of last year, three years into your career as one of the youngest faculty members in the Music & Arts program at your university. While he was bubbly and energetic, you were the more typical academic – down-to-earth, a little bit serious. He was beloved by his students for his positive personality and passion for teaching; you were well-regarded as being a natural talent who wanted to hone your students’ abilities.  

It wasn’t that your students didn’t like your course. No, it was well-reviewed and relatively popular considering it was an elective. But once Hoseok arrived, you felt like you were competing with the star of the program. Every student, even the ones who didn’t like dance, were lining up for his course, pushing your class and others into smaller classrooms with dwindling numbers. He, of course, got the large lecture hall this year.

He was the pain in your side, constantly flashing his bright smile to get his way in the department, dazzling your colleagues. Students would often be buzzing in the hallways about how they didn’t have to take an exam in Professor Jung’s class like they did in Professor Y/L/N’s. They got to go to a local show instead and analyze the dance performance. Hoseok was creative and intelligent – that much you could agree with – but you rolled your eyes every time you saw another one of his students attempt to flirt with him.

Hoseok and you figured out you got on each other’s nerves pretty quickly. He would always play music too loud in his office while you were grading papers – he timed how long it took you to show up at his door to tell him to turn it down every afternoon. You would make it a point to have your students play samples of their pieces they’d written on the piano while he was in the middle of a lecture, leaving your classroom doors open so the notes of the instrument would float down the hallway to the lecture hall. You’d have a satisfied grin on your face when you heard the telltale noise of the lecture hall doors slamming shut.

The entire department knew about this little game the two of you would play with each other, not to mention the sarcastic comments from you and teasing jokes from him that were on repeat any time you were in the same room. The bickering was bound to get worse with the two of you in such close quarters all semester.

“Y/N!” you heard a loud voice call down the hallway. You hadn’t heard that voice in two and a half months thanks to your summer vacation. You gritted your teeth, turning with a tight-lipped smile toward your least-favorite coworker.

“Hoseok,” you greeted with a nod. As usual, your semi-chilly behavior toward him didn’t faze him.

“Y/N, come on, I thought I told you to call me Hobi!” he said cheerfully, his eyes squinting from his smile. He was wearing a cream turtleneck tucked into his khakis, plaid blazer over his shoulders. He had dyed his hair from the black you were accustomed to, his strands now a platinum blonde. You realized, begrudgingly, that he looked more attractive than he did last year.

“Well would you look at that, we’re neighbors,” Hoseok said after scanning the list on the board.

“Try to keep the gaggle of screaming fans away from the hallway when I’m teaching, would you?” you said sarcastically. Hoseok’s hand flew to his heart, acting like you had personally attacked him.

“Y/N, I cannot believe you would accuse my students of being so frivolous,” he said dramatically. “Just because we have more fun in my class, doesn’t make it any less serious than yours.”

“Oh, please, save the theatrics for the students who signed up thinking your class would be an easy ‘A’. I know for a fact that you gave out four D’s last semester.” Hoseok’s eyes twinkled at your challenging tone.

“And how many did you give out, Professor Y/L/N?” Hoseok asked in a sweet voice.

“None, thank you very much. Since my students actually learn something in my class, I don’t have to give out such low grades,” you quipped. Hoseok chuckled, running a hand through his wavy blonde hair.

“Maybe I should sit in on one of your classes this year. Learn a thing or two,” Hoseok said, stepping toward you. You flushed momentarily at his low tone, immediately stepping back. He smirked at your reaction.

“It’s invite only to audit my class, Jung,” you said before turning on your heel to walk toward your office down the hall, “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not!” you yelled over your shoulder.

You heard Hoseok laugh, and you cursed yourself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that his teasing had gotten to you.

You had promised yourself at the end of the summer not to play into it this year – you were going to be professional, courteous. But the first time you see Hoseok, bam, it goes right out the window. 

You would just have to avoid Hoseok as much as possible.

You sighed once you closed your office door behind you. It was going to be a long semester.

---

Two months into the semester, the leaves had turned to burnt oranges and red, signaling the return of fall. Hoseok was sitting in one of the auditorium seats, his legs crossed over each other, looking down at his fingers with a soft smile playing at his lips. The delicate notes of the piano were playing from your classroom, the noise piercing the thin walls separating your classroom from his.

His class had been dismissed half an hour ago, and, based on the lack of students having straggling conversations in the hallway, yours had, too. He often waited after he was done teaching to see if you would play when you thought no one was listening. The notes you played sometimes indicated your mood; the music was soft and flowing, other times dark and intense.

Today it was, melancholic? He couldn’t quite place it, but it made him think about the change in seasons. He wondered if that was on your mind. The song was fluid, making him want to choreograph a piece to it, the dancer’s body matching the tempo of the music. He shut his eyes, picturing the movements behind his closed lids.

He’d never admit that he indulged in this as often as he did – he knew you wouldn’t be playing if you found out he was your only audience member. You had been avoiding him this semester. He had tried all of his old tricks – the loud music during office hours, teasing comments during staff meetings. But you wouldn’t blink.

He opened his eyes, the song transitioning into something light and happy. It made him think of sunshine.  

---

You stopped playing, your hands lifting off the keys like they burned you. You had been playing mindlessly, your fingers starting to pluck away at the keys in the melody that you had thought of when you would think of Hoseok.

The more you avoided Hoseok, the more you seemed to miss his overly positive personality. You would see him at staff meetings, always giving you a big smile. One day you came in late after a meeting with a student ran long, and you came into the room to see that he had saved you a seat next to him, the last one left empty in the room. 

He was still playing his music too loud, but you had stopped bugging him about it, and you noticed that it was gradually getting quieter.

You closed the cover over the keys, willing the thoughts about Hoseok to go away, packing up your papers and laptop. He was just your annoyingly happy colleague; there was no reason he should be taking up this much space in your mind.

---

“Are you honestly suggesting that the music composition class shouldn’t be considered a prerequisite for all music program students going forward?” you questioned angrily. You and Hoseok were at a standoff in the department meeting, his normally pleasant features tense, arms crossed in front of him.

“If that means that it prevents funding from getting diverted from the dance program to the instrumental students, then, yes, that is what I’m suggesting,” Hoseok countered.

“That’s ridiculous! Music composition is a fundamental building block for all students – including dance, Jung!” your voice had risen, and the department head looked between you both, deciding that the meeting had gotten too out of hand to continue.

“Professor Y/L/N, Professor Jung – why don’t the two of you take a walk around the building, get some fresh air. The rest of you, dismissed. We’ll resume this conversation, civilly, next week,” the department head declared.  

You were fuming, angrily shoving your notebook and pen in your bag before storming out of the building. You felt someone else’s presence, and you turned, groaning when you saw the last person you wanted to see standing behind you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“Give it a rest, Jung, I’m not in the mood,” you said grumpily.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the bookstore to grab a coffee and put this behind us,” Hoseok scoffed, smile wiped away. “But, I guess not.”

“Not everyone wants to just roll over and play nice when you flash them a smile, Hoseok.”

“Well, not everyone wants to act like they have a superiority complex, either.”

Your lips pursed, hands beginning to fidget with how angry and upset his comment made you. The two of you had been annoying last year, sure, but you had never been mean to each other. Until today.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you said quietly, heated tone still evident despite the low volume.

“The feeling is mutual,” Hoseok said harshly. “It’s not like you’ve even tried to get to know me. You immediately disliked me from day one. You never even gave me a chance!”

“That’s rich coming from you. All that shit with the music and the comments – it’s like you wanted me to dislike you,” you replied.

“I wanted you to talk to me, Y/N,” Hoseok said, exasperated. “Forget it, I can see now that it was useless to try.”

“I was trying to play nice this semester,” you said, glaring at Hoseok. “You came in like a damn bulldozer last year, disrupting everything in the department. And everyone just did what you wanted because you’re ‘mister nice guy’, and you make people laugh and people just think you’re perfect. Well, I don’t buy it.”

You took a deep breath, leveling your gaze at him.

“Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours,” your voice was stone-cold. Hoseok’s eyes flashed, lips in a thin line before he responded bitterly.

“Perfect.”

---

Things had been quiet between you and Hoseok since your fight outside of the building a few weeks ago. You politely nodded at each other in the hallway when you passed by, avoiding eye contact. You would grimace when you heard his laugh during lectures next door to yours, wanting to block the sound out.

You couldn��t get what he said to you out of your thoughts – you really didn’t know Hoseok very well. All you knew is what he presented to the rest of the world. He was bubbly and positive and optimistic; he probably thought you were just some brooding, academic stiff.

Hoseok noticed the songs you were playing lately were rather intense. Sometimes he would hear you smash against the keys like you were angry with the piano for not producing the sounds you wanted to hear.

He knew the feeling. He was spending more time in the dance studio lately, dancing aggressively to loud hip hop music, trying to drown out the frustration he was feeling at not being able to make you crack and talk to him.

That’s where he found himself tonight, trying to get rid of his stress. You were stubborn, but you were also beautiful, intelligent, passionate, tenacious. He turned his music up louder, drowning out the thoughts of you.

---

You had re-read the same sentence four times, red pen poised in your hand ready to edit the student’s paper. The loud beats were still audible from the practice rooms. It was late, and the building had been closed to students for the past two hours.

You decided to go down there. You weren’t going to get them in trouble for staying past close, but with finals coming up, you were sure the students needed a gentle reminder that sleeping was just as important as practicing.

You walked down the dark hallway, going down the steps to the practice rooms on the floor beneath the faculty offices, finding the one with the light on, music blaring through the glass panes separating the space from the hall.

You glanced into the room, seeing Hoseok dancing. You had never seen him in his element before, and it was captivating. He was wearing a black pair of sweats, an oversized yellow t-shirt adorning his slender frame. The music seemed to be moving through his body. He was grounded in the floor, an intense expression on his face as he hit heavy movements on the beat, fluidly moving through other parts depending on the music. You felt like this was personal, like you weren’t allowed to be watching, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

Hoseok looked into the mirror, his eyes looking toward the shadow in the hallway. His eyes met yours, his gaze burning into yours through the glass. You gulped.

He turned, grabbing a bottle of water and pausing the music. You figured that was your cue, opening the door to the studio and stepping inside.

“Was it too loud?” Hoseok asked, voice light despite the obvious tension in the room.

“No, it’s okay uh – I was grading papers, and I thought a student was still down here,” you explained softly. “I thought I’d tell them to go home, get some rest.”

Hoseok had a curious expression on his face. If he was surprised to hear why you were down here, he didn’t mention it. You felt the need to fill the silence, so you spouted the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re really talented, Hobi,” you said quickly. His eyebrows shot up at the sound of the nickname you never called him. “Hoseok – sorry, I meant Hoseok.”

“Watch out, people might think we’re friends,” Hoseok joked, but it came out strained.

“Hoseok – Hobi. I’m sorry about what I said a few weeks ago. I was heated, and I apologize,” you said, looking down at a scuff in the hardwood floors.

“I’m sorry, too. What I said was uncalled for, and I didn’t mean to upset you. Last year, this semester. Anything I’ve done that has made you mad or annoyed. I’m sorry,” Hobi said sincerely. “I-um, well…”

You looked up, waiting for him to continue.

“I just wanted your attention.”

“What?”

“I wanted your attention. I wanted you to want to talk to me. I wanted you to get to know me. Not the version of me that I show my students. I wanted you to see me. Really see me.”

You gulped, Hobi’s vulnerability making you nervous. He took a step toward you, and you willed yourself to stay in place.

“I know you do the same thing; you hide. Hide behind this persona you’ve created. I think it goes away when you play piano.”

“How do you–what do you mean?” you asked incredulously.

“I hear you play. After class. I never told you because I selfishly wanted to keep listening. Your music it – it tells a story. About your day, your feelings. If you didn’t tell me yourself, at least your music did.”

Your cheeks burned knowing that he was audience to all of the time spent in your classroom, working out your feelings on the piano like it was your therapy.

“Everything goes away when I play,” you stopped, thinking about how distracted you had been lately trying to compose. “Well, most of the time, anyway.”

“That’s how I feel when I dance,” Hobi admitted with a gentle smile. You nodded, realizing that the two of you had this in common, at least.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you said, backing away from Hobi toward the door.

“Wait –,” Hobi said, slightly flustered. “Dance with me.”

Your eyes widened. Hobi laughed, and you hated to admit that you had missed the sound.

“Come on, just trust me, Y/L/N.” You waited while he picked out a song, holding out his hand. You placed your fingers in his, and he pulled you close to him, leading you around the studio floor to the song. He made you feel light on your feet despite your lack of dance experience, his hand tightly gripping yours, his other floating over your waist. Your skin tingled from the contact.

He spun you around twice, your hands landing on his chest as you tried to regain your balance. You looked up at him, genuinely enjoying yourself. His bright smile you used to roll your eyes at lit up his features, causing your smile to match his.

“Can you see me now, Y/N?” Hobi asked, referencing his earlier confession. “Because I see you when you play. When you tell a student crying in your office that everything is going to be okay. And I see you now when you’re dancing with me like this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Remember when you said I didn’t know anything about you?” You nodded, recognizing his reference to your fight outside of the department building. “I don’t think that’s true. But I know there’s so much more to know. And I want to know everything.”

Hobi’s hand came up to your cheek, softly placing it on the side of your face.

“I want to know you, too, Hobi,” you whispered.

He leaned forward, his breath fanning over your lips, “Want to start now?”

You gripped his t-shirt in your hand, pulling him the last few inches to your lips instead of answering. You felt him smile against your lips, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him.

He pulled back, his forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath.

“Does this mean I can start playing my music loudly during office hours again?” Hobi teased, his fingers playing with the hem of your sweater, brushing against your skin.

You made a face at him, causing him to laugh. He kissed you on the forehead, then on the lips again to make you smile before answering.

“Not a chance.”  

---

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#bts fluff #bts angst #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts jhope #bts jung hoseok #bts hoseok #jhope #jung hoseok #hoseok #hobi #bts hobi #hoseok x reader #hobi x reader #hoseok x y/n #hobi x y/n #hoseok oneshot #hobi oneshot #jhope oneshot #jhope fluff #jhope angst #bts professor au #hobi fluff #hobi angst #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts enemies to lovers #jhope enemies to lovers

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild​ @owlf45​ and @cyber-phobia​ (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up.  And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee.  Inko didn’t know how to feel.  Work would have been a good distraction.  But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much.  And it was already shaping up to be.  She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.  

Inko sat alone in the kitchen.  She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate.  Sickness set in fast.  The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away.  Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with.  She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom.  There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her.  From her office.  The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet.  Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed.  Her mind conjured a familiar image.  A bedroom full of books and hero posters.  Bright colors and personal touches.  A child’s room.  Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office.  Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again.  She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though.  She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room.  She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet.  Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up.  Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart.  She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day.  Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories.  Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today.  With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came.  Thunder crashed outside.  It’s not fair!  Why is it still this hard after this long?  Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes.  Like she wasn’t really alone.  Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough.  She felt it watching her.  Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again.  Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable.  Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside.  Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap.  The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind.  Maybe he’s going through this too.  She bit her lip bloody.  Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others.  Probably not though.  I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously.  Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.  

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said.  “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity!  We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream.  Still did, years later.  Why didn’t he understand?  He was your loss too!  Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.  

“I don’t just want any baby!  I want Izuku!”

The lights went out.  The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going.  The rain stopped.

Power outage.  Inko sat up with a sniffle.  Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts.  Of course.  Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump.  Then another.  Lightning flashed outside at the same time.  It was right on top of her.

What?  I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash.  It vibrated through her bones.  Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…”  She went for her phone again.  For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said.  “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed.  “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly.  The message remained.  All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that.  She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened.  No app or source was displayed.  Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.  

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept.  In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room.  But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs.  Perfectly circular and glowing.  Watching her. She didn’t dare move.  

Another ping.  She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“…  What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out.  They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered.  Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside.  Multiple strikes laid on top of one another.  No relief.  Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo.  It shook the whole building.  Inko ran into the closet away from the window.  She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help.  Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream.  She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature.  It came from every direction.  Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear.  She felt the charge in the air.  But she had to go out.  Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room.  All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off.  The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it.  The storm was deafening.  It pounded through her head like a heartbeat.  The beats got faster.  The static flashes started to look like a face.  Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen.  The snow cleared for a single instant.  Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window.  She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped.  All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark.  The TV went completely cold in an instant.  Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something.  Anything.  The pulse. Warmth.  A burnt fuse or faulty wire.  But nothing.  The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap.  Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around.  Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago.  Inko combed the entire space for evidence.  An object knocked off the shelf.  A picture frame fallen from the wall.  The notifications.  Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall.  Still not a sign.  She even stepped outside her door to check the sky.  Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place.  Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open.  Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound.  The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time.  The first time he smiled at her.  Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play.  Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms.  Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon.  That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember.  The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs.  Those were fantasies.  Daydreams of what could have been.  She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today.  It was his birthday after all.  They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow.  They always did.  

And she would be left with reality.  The silence.  The cold, still little hand between her fingers.  Soft cheeks without blush.  Eyes that never opened.  Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.  

But it was never over.  Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now.  All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once.  Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet.  Plenty of time for another breakdown.  Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud.  She sighed heavily into her sheets.  This sort of thing can’t be normal.  I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest.  Static electricity pricked her fingers.  With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore.  Izuku.  He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her.  She remembered it like it was now.  If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath.  The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay.  It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly.  “…  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow.  For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.  Happy birthday.”

#midoriya inko #midoriya izuku #broken reality au #the glitch #mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aconstantstateoffanfiction #april fools #the long con

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Vacation (Belphie x GN!Reader) Slight NSFW

(Did I go extra hard on the beach fic? Yes. Yes I did. Are my posting hours absolutely horrid... also yes. It's 3:30AM and I finally finished this fic though! YAY! I also did not read through this before I posted. I'll read it when I wake up to check for mistakes. I need a nap.)

Word Count : 5.1K

You loved the beach, everything about it was so relaxing. The sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, the smell of saltwater that was carried to your nose with the ocean’s breeze. The only thing that made being there right now better was the fact that Belphie was there with you. You loved Belphie, everything about him screamed perfection, even though he disagreed most of the time you said he was. His disregard for most of humanity aside from yourself, his constant scowl which he probably thought was menacing and scary but you just found it adorable.

It was shocking at first that he actually agreed to go with you, and you thought for sure that he’d want to stay home and just sleep while, but, much to your surprise, he jumped at the opportunity to go to the beach with you. He even said that it would be fun, which… well he wasn’t wrong… but hearing him say something like that… even if it was mumbled, it was kind of shocking.

“You got a room… in a hotel… that’s on the beach… with a balcony that overlooks the beach?” Belphie said, looking around the room as the two of you walked in. As soon as the door was shut, you dropped your bags to the floor and ran to the balcony doors, throwing them open and running out to lean over the railing with Belphie following close behind and quickly wrapping his arms around you. “Don’t do that. You could have flipped over the edge… dork.”

You could only laugh at his worry, but then again, according to him you were fragile, and humans were inherently clumsy most of the time, so you didn’t really blame him for thinking that you’d accidentally lean too far over and do a front flip over the railing… but it was still kind of funny. “I’m not going to fall over the edge, Belph. I’ve done this a lot. And…” You turned in his arms so you could wrap your own around his waist. “Yes, a balcony with an ocean view. The weather said there would be a thunderstorm this week, and I’m hoping they’re right. I love watching the lightning hit the water… the thunder is so loud. It’s amazing.” He chuckled softly, rolling his eyes as he grabbed your hand and dragged you back into the room, not wanting to leave you on the balcony unattended any longer.

“The storm better not hit until the last day. I want to go surfing.” He said as he grabbed his own bag off the floor and moved it onto the bed, quickly pulling out his bathing suit. You were stuck on the whole surfing thing though because… well… it doesn’t need to be explained. It’s just fucking hot. He snapped his fingers to get your attention after you hadn’t responded, rolling his eyes when you blinked a few times and focused back on him. “You alright? You zoned out for a second there.”

“Mhm… I’m good.” You whispered shyly, dragging your own bags away from the door so you could pull out your own bathing suit. “It’s a good time to go down… everyone is clearing out for the day and the sun isn’t going to be beating as hard.” You weren’t really sure if he was listening, you could still hear him rummaging through his own bag as you talked. You were mainly talking to yourself though, looking up out the balcony doors and watching as the umbrellas on the beach slowly dwindled as everyone started heading back to their own hotels.

“You still need sunscreen.” It actually sounded like he was scolding you, and it wouldn’t be the first time he called your ass out for not wearing it. “I’m not having you get burnt on our first day here. You’ll spend the rest of the vacation in pain, and then I’ll have to hold back from saying I told you so because you won’t be in the mood to hear it. Plus…” He tossed the sunscreen onto the bed that was closest to you before squatting down behind you, trailing his fingers along your neck and down your shoulders. “If you got burnt… you wouldn’t enjoy me touching you as much…”

God damn if he wasn’t right, and you hated that he was right. “Hmph… fine.” You groaned, and honestly, you just hated the way the sunscreen felt. It made your arms stick to your sides and you just felt… sticky… and you could never get it off your hands after putting it on. It was a pain in the ass… but he was right, and you wouldn’t be able to enjoy anything if you got burnt, and you definitely weren’t going to spend an entire week in a nice ass hotel with an ocean view and not at least cuddle with him. “You’re putting it on me though.”

“I never said I wouldn’t.” He said it teasingly, kissing your neck before standing back up. “Go change. The waves look pretty good right now, I want to get down there.” He had already started pulling his shirt off and unbuttoning his shorts as you got up off the floor. It was one thing for him to change in front of the balcony doors, he didn’t really care if anyone saw him naked… But he didn’t want anyone else to see you that way. Only he could, and if someone did happen to see you that way, he’d have to kill them and then it would ruin the vacation and neither of you wanted that.

Of course he held your hand on the way down the beach. He wasn’t going to let anyone else look at you, and even if they did, they’d see that your hand was in his and you were his, so they better just fuck right off with their thoughts and their intentions because it isn’t going to happen and you aren’t going to do the things that they are thinking with anyone but him.

“I hate walking in the sand with flip flops…” You mumbled as your feet sunk into the sand with every step, struggling to take steps because the sand kept basically absorbing your flip flop which is the most annoying shit.

“You could always go barefoot.” He said, as if you didn’t already know that… but also walking barefoot on the beach after the sun had been beating on it for hours wasn’t the most pleasant experience either.

“I’d rather not burn my feet… How close do you want to get to the water anyway? I usually stay close to the top so I don’t have to be around all the people.” Which was the truth. You hated being surrounded by other beach goers, and most of them smelt an awful lot like spray tan or beer or both. The ocean breeze would miraculously always start up whenever they were spraying their spray tans on and it would get in your eyes or your mouth, and you’d just rather not be anywhere near them. Plus… who puts on spray tan at the beach? Just lay in the sun. It’s easier and looks more real because it is real. Ugh… people.

“Close enough that I can still see you from the ocean. Right here should be good…” He stopped right at the middle of where the line of umbrellas started and where there was nobody. It was like an invisible line in the sand, and Belphie decided that he wanted his spot to be on both sides of it. He stuck the umbrella into the sand to mark the spot and you finally let yourself sit down before even putting down the towel. You were tired. Walking through the sand is a workout. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re forgetting something.” He practically cooed the last part to you, and you knew exactly what he was talking about, but you wished that he had forgotten.

He started digging through the bag that you had loaded with drinks and snacks because the beach experience isn’t complete unless you’ve tried to eat a sandwich while a multitude of seagulls stand at the edge of your towel and squawk at you to feed them. (But you don’t because it’s not healthy for them. Please don’t feed the seagulls your food.) “I don’t need sunscreen. I’m just gonna be sitting under the umbrella the whole time.” He hummed softly, knowing that you were wrong. Who goes to the beach and sits under the umbrella the whole time? You knew that you weren’t going to, but damn… you really hated the feeling of sunscreen. It makes you cringe. Why is it so sticky????

You laid out the towel and decided that it would be pointless to even try to argue against him. He was right in the hotel room about the sunburn, and it wouldn’t be as bad if he was the one rubbing it on you. “I’m sure a little sunscreen is better than a sunburn…” He said as he squirted it onto his hands. “Lay down, I said I’d put it on you.” You quickly obliged, laying on your stomach and resting your head on your arms as he rubbed it together between his hands before placing them on your shoulders. The feeling sent a shiver through you, and you weren’t sure whether it was just because the sunscreen was cold or if it was his touch that made your body respond that way. “You’re cute… relax babe… this isn’t the first time I’ve touched you.” He teased as his hands made their way down your back, squeezing your sides lightly before rubbing slowly over your entire back and then working down to your legs. Luckily your face was hidden in your arms so he couldn’t see your blushing. His touch was doing things to you that you knew you couldn’t act upon on the beach so it would probably be a while before you got up anyway. “Alright, roll over.” He didn’t really wait for you to roll over, taking it upon himself to do it and then smiling smugly when he saw the flustered look on your face.

“I think I’m just gonna…. Stay here for a little bit… while you go out and…” He had already started running his hands over your chest which had made your sentence get cut short. It would be too noticeable that he was making you flustered if you just covered your face now, so you tried to keep calm as his hands continued to work. You let out a gasp as his thumbs accidentally flicked over your nipples, a quiet hum escaping him as he watched them perk up. “Belphie…” You whined, but he only laughed in response, moving his hands lower until they were at your hips. Your eyes grew wider, and he knew exactly why, and for a second you thought he’d just tease you more, but he knew that if he did that you’d just be begging him to take you back to the room and those activities were for later.

He had finally finished, and part of you wished that he hadn’t because obviously you loved having his hands on you like that, but also you were in public and it couldn’t go any further than that either. “So do you want to go down there with me or do you need a minute?” He joked as he got up, grabbing his surfboard and holding it under his arm. “Would you rather me stay up here wi-”

“You can go! I just… Just need a second.” Your voice cracked as you said it, further accentuating just how flustered he had made you. You ran your hands over your face and sighed, to which he laughed at. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny.” You grumbled. You were now thoroughly turned on, it was hot out, you were covered in sunscreen, and he looked really good standing above you like that.

“It actually is really funny. I’ll meet you down there… oh wait… hold up…” He leaned over, booping your nose with his pointer finger which still had sunscreen on it. You wrinkled your nose at him, sticking your tongue out before rolling over onto your stomach. “Aww, you’ll thank me for it later when your nose is sunburn free and not peeling.” He started walking off, that much you could tell as the sun that he had been blocking finally hit your back.

It didn’t take too long for you to gain back your composure. Now that he was off walking down to the ocean, you could actually focus on calming down and relaxing in the sun that was practically baking you because the umbrella wasn’t blocking out anything now that the sun was setting. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the warmth of the sun against your skin had you close to dozing off, but you wanted to see him, you wanted to watch him, so you fought off the urge to fall asleep and pushed yourself up off the towel and started heading down.

The beach had almost completely cleared out aside from the few people who, much like yourself and Belphie, wanted to enjoy it without the screaming children who’d run through the sand and kick it back onto the towels and bodies of unsuspecting people. It was a lot calmer during the evening, and Belphie had a lot of room to do what he wanted to do. Not a lot of people here actually surfed, it was mainly people boogie boarding close to the shore line and riding the smallest waves inland. You on the other hand, you didn’t use a board at all, instead wading out into the deepest part of the ocean until your feet could barely touch the floor, and then when a wave came, you’d jump and ride that shit up to the shore… or get knocked out completely and wash up on the shore looking like you’ve just seen death itself. Either way it’s a blast, and boards held no appeal to you… BUT…

Belphie on the board was a completely different story though. There was something about… him in general that made you so fascinated. Your eyes were basically glued to him, watching intently as he got onto his board and started paddling out deeper. You saw the wave that he was going for, it was forming further back, almost on the horizon line and you knew that it would be huge, which is exactly what he was going for. Go big or go home was always his thing, whether it was with food, pranks against his brothers, and with this as well…clearly. Were you worried, even though you knew that as a demon, he couldn’t actually get severely hurt? Absolutely. He’d probably laugh at you later for worrying, but you also cared about him a lot, so could he blame you? Absolutely not.

You watched as the wave drew closer, and for a second you were beyond worried that it would just crush him since he was sitting there just wading in the water, but as it started closing in, he began paddling again, his board rising with the crest of the wave until he reached the top and stood up. Now, it’s not that you had never seen people surfing before, it’s just that everyone else was boring and you didn’t like them and they weren’t interesting, and they were just… people. Belphie was different. This was your demon and here he was absolutely fucking ripping it, and not only was was he doing it flawlessly, but he looked so fucking good doing it. You wanted to cheer for him, but you also didn’t want to throw him off or anything, so you let out a quiet “yay” as you continued watching. The wave crashed down and broke around him, pushing him closer to you and for a second you thought that he’d ride it all the way up to you, but then he saw you. He pointed at you, the typical finger guns, and then promptly decided to purposely fall back off his board, which made you gasp because like… what the fuck man? Why?

BUT ALSO GOD DAMN. When he reemerged from under the water, he looked fucking…. Hot. And not like, “oh shit it’s summertime and the sun is making things hot” kind of hot… no, it was “holy hell I need to get this man back into the hotel room before I fuck him right here on the beach” type hot, which is still an understatement because there is no way to actually capture the essence of how absolutely hot he is through words. He’s just fucking… hot. He quickly pushed back his hair which was soaked and hanging in his face, and now it was slicked back, which wasn’t a look that you’d usually go for, but on him, again… HOT.

Were you aware that you had been holding your breath as he walked up to you? Nope. But as soon as he reached you, you exhaled sharply and gave him a sheepish smile. “That was… you did… it was great…” You couldn’t think straight and you couldn’t form coherent sentences, and the way you were acting had that smug little smile returning to his face. He knew damn well the way you were feeling, the way he made you feel. He didn’t have to wait for you to fall asleep and see your dreams to know what you were thinking either. But he wasn’t going to let you have it that easily either, he was going to tease you and drag it out as long as he possibly could.

“Come on…” He grabbed your hand, pulling you out into the water which was freezing. It was so cold, your entire body kind of froze up as soon as it reached your mid calves. “It’ll be more cold if you try to slowly get used to it. Just dunk yourself under real quick.” He stopped pulling you long enough to watch you, and what he was suggesting was quite possibly the number one thing you didn’t want to do right now. “I can do it for you if you won’t do it yourself.” He coaxed, stepping a little closer to you. He was serious too, he’d dunk you, whether you were holding your nose or not.

“I-I got it… I can do it…” You mumbled, slowly lowering yourself and then shooting back up when the water reached an area that had been dry before. You could almost see the timer in his head ticking down to the moment where he’d just take over and sweep you off your feet in the most unromantic way just to get you used to the water faster. “Don’t look at me while I… You’re making me nervous!” It was a good excuse. He scoffed and turned away from you, humming the jeopardy song which only made you feel more rushed. “Shush! I’m doing it… I just need a second.”

“You’ve had many seconds. It’s gonna be dark soon.” He joked, tapping his fingers along the water as he started humming louder. You groaned loudly before taking a deep breath, holding your nose, and dropping under the water. And, not surprisingly, it was fucking freezing, and when you quickly pushed yourself back up, the breeze that had really picked up didn’t help… like at all. “There you go. It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No… it was worse.” He snorted softly, shaking his head. You couldn’t understand how he wasn’t fazed by it. Whenever he was in bed he’d complain about it being too cold when he was too lazy to reach down and grab his blankets… but swimming in an ice cube tray apparently doesn’t affect him. It made absolutely no sense, but… he looked happy, and he was having fun, and as numb as your body felt from the water, seeing him this way made you feel warm, at least in your heart, where it was important. “So why am I actually in the water right now?” You would have been perfectly fine staying just above where the waves broke, but he must have had something in mind.

“We’re tandem surfing.” He drummed his hands lightly on the board as he looked excitedly over at you as if you knew what that meant. He could see the confusion on your face though, and he sighed softly, pulling you closer to himself and the board. “You’re gonna be on the board with me.” That… sounded like a trainwreck waiting to happen. It would not go well, you knew that much. You wouldn’t be able to even sit on the board without wobbling, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be able to stand on it. “You’ll be fine.” He could see how put off by the idea of it you were. No amount of his arms wrapped around you would make flipping off a surfboard in the middle of a wave worth it.

“Mmmm… Nope… that’s not gonna… Nuh uh….” You were shaking your head quickly, trying to keep your footing even when you were flat on the ground as the waves crashed around you. They were strong, as was the current that was pulling you deeper into the ocean without you even realizing it. “I can just go stand back up there… I’ll watch you. That sounds like a good idea.” You nodded to yourself, turning to start walking away, but his arm was around your waist, holding you close against him and keeping you from walking away.

“I’m not gonna let you fall off. We’re not going far out… and we’re both sitting the whole time.” He murmured against your neck, knowing exactly what he was doing. “Plus… It’s cold out there… and I want to do this with you.” He made you so weak, it wasn’t fair at all. His fingers brushed lightly across your hip as his lips lingered against your skin. He was waiting for an answer, but he already knew what it would be, he just wanted to hear you say it, and he was having way too much fun teasing you like this. “Fine… just… hold it still.” His hand quickly moved away from your waist and he was wearing the biggest smile as he held the board in place as best he could. The waves crashing around it were the biggest issue, and every time you were about to jump up onto it, another wave would push it against you and make you stumble back. “Belphie… It’s not gonna work.” You whined, your head falling back as you sighed loudly.

“I’m holding it as still as I can, you just need to get on. I’ll tell you when, so the waves won’t knock you off.” He was being really persistent with it, which, in it’s own way, was kind of cute. Either he really wanted you on the board with him, or he really wanted to see you fall off. Sure, he liked you, but even you knew there was something… comical… about watching someone fall off a board… especially if they were just sitting. That’s even funnier. “If you do it… we can go right back to the hotel after we’re done… I know you want to do that.” He’s god damn right you want to do that. Not just for… reasons, but the thought of warm dry clothes and being under a blanket and cuddling with him sounded so amazing right now.

It was motivation enough for you to try again, timing your jump before the next wave came and then gripping onto the board like your life depended on it, because you really thought that it did, once you were on. “Okay…. Now what?” Your voice was kind of shaky, and really, you thought you should be rewarded with the hotel just for getting on the board alone. The waves were rocking you, and you felt like you were going to tip at any moment if Belphie let go, and you were really hoping that he wouldn’t, but when you turned to look at him, he was already behind you, getting ready to jump on the board. “Sh-Shouldn’t I be in the back…?” It was a pretty bad time to realize it considering you were already on it, but you still had time to jump off and switch positions.

“Oh… No. If you’re in the back, you’ll just hide your face in my back as soon as the wave starts pushing us, and that’s the best part.” He climbed onto the back of the board, scooting as close to you as possible. “Now hold on, okay? I’m gonna get us a little further out.” Your head whipped around to look at him, your eyes going wide. You were pretty sure he just said that you wouldn’t go out far, but now he’s saying he’s gotta get out further? He chuckled lightly, shaking his head as if he knew what you were thinking. “Not as far as I went. Just far enough to actually have a wave. The swells aren’t going to do much except rock us around a little bit.” He was already paddling out and your hold on the board turned into a death grip.

Once he felt like it was far enough out, he turned the board around, and that’s when you realized just how far you actually were. “I’m gonna die…” You whispered, which only made him laugh more, leaning in to kiss along your shoulder. “That’s not gonna make me feel better.” Your nails were practically digging into the board and your knuckles hurt from how tight you were holding it, but you didn’t really care, you just didn’t want to fall off.

“Oh, the waves coming! Hold on.” As if you weren’t already doing that, and you couldn’t possibly hold on any tighter than you already were. The wave began pushing you up, and you didn’t, not even for a second, enjoy the sensation of it. “Keep your eyes open.” His arms were wrapped tightly around you, and even with his urging, your eyes were shut as tight as possible, already prepared for when you’d fall off. You didn’t want salt water in your eyes, it burned, it hurt, and you were like 99.5% sure that you’d be falling off at some point.

His arms stayed wrapped around you, as tight as possible, ensuring that you wouldn’t fall off the board and you were beyond thankful for that. In a strange way, it didn’t last that long, but at the same time it felt like you were riding the wave forever. You had opened your eyes once, but the sight of the beach growing closer and closer to you was terrifying and you didn’t like it. “Is it done?” You quietly asked, not wanting to open your eyes yet, but you also felt like you’ve slowed down and you could feel the rocking of the waves beneath you again.

“Yes, it’s done. Your eyes were shut the entire time, weren’t they?” He joked, squeezing your hips which made you squirm and fall off the board anyway. His laughter was so loud you could hear it from under the water, and you quickly pushed your feet up against the edge of the board to try to tip him off as well, which didn’t actually work. You got back up, wiping the water from your eyes and glaring at him, still sitting on the board and smiling down at you. “You thought you’d be able to tip me over… that’s cute. You’re cute. Come, we’ll go back now. We can both take a nap before dinner.”

The sand had finally cooled off now that the sun had practically set behind the horizon line, lighting the waves up in pretty pink, orange, and blue hues. If you weren’t so cold, you’d have loved to stay on the beach and watch the sun continue to go down with Belphie right beside you. That could be done another night though, and you were aching to get back inside and take a shower to get the sand off of you, and then just relax in bed.

“I call dibs on the bathroom first.” You called out as you swiped the card to get into the room, rushing ahead of him to drop your beach bag on the floor and run straight into the bathroom. The sand was sticking to you, not just from being in the water, but also the damned sunscreen. It was itchy and it was everywhere, and you wanted to get it off of you as quickly as you could.

“You don’t have to call dibs, I could just get in there with you.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it made you pause for a second. He wasn’t wrong, and it’s not that you’d mind him getting in with you, so you weren’t going to say no. He walked in just as you were getting into the shower, and no matter how many times he had seen you that way, you still got really shy, which he would constantly say is adorable, but it just made you flustered and even more shy than you already were. “Did you have fun?” His voice was soft now, and you could hear that he was becoming tired. You were sure that he’d end up falling asleep on the beach after being in the ocean, it was enough to even knock you out most of the time, but he held onto enough energy to get up into the room.

“Mmhm… I liked watching you more though…” You heard him hum quietly behind you, his hands roaming over your body as he helped get some of the off. You could have done it yourself, but he did it so much better. “Did you have fun?” It sounded like he had fun, and it definitely looked like he had fun. He was laughing and smiling the whole time which was enough for you. His happiness made you happy, as cringy and dorky as that may sound… which is why you never told him that. He’d call you a dork and laugh it off which would just make you flustered and feel silly.

“Mmhm… I have one more thing to do though.” You were confused because you were pretty sure he was talking about dinner and that was supposed to come after the nap. He finished rinsing the sand and soap off you and himself before turning off the shower and stepping out. He didn’t bother with towels, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the bathroom and pushing you down on the bed, situating himself between your legs and smiling up at you. “I teased you enough on the beach… I think I should finish what I started.”

#obey me #obey me! shall we date #obey me shall we date #om! shall we date #obey me! swd #om! swd #obey me fic #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x mc #obey me Belphie #obey me Belphegor #obey me Belphegor x reader #obey me Belphegor x mc #obey me Belphie x reader #obey me Belphie x mc #Belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #belphie x reader #belphie x mc #belphie x gn!reader #belphegor x gn!reader #belphegor avatar of sloth

[byorder-fanfic]

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: Bonnie

Preference Masterlist

Requested by anonymous

Word count: 1727

Warnings: Reader going through a hard time, suggestive comments, swearing, Bonnie gets hurt (emotionally), not favourable descriptions of Small Heath (apologies to any Brummie readers- it’s for the plot)

Author's Note: Hi! I’ve had some trouble with the Ada and Finn preferences so I’m mixing up the order a bit. Those who’ve requested, your fics will be out soon! If there’s any other characters you want me to write for, feel free to make any more requests. Hope you enjoy and I’m wishing you all my best

(Gif by @sophieshelby) 

The Golds were travellers. It's what you loved the most about their life, the life that you jumped into in the greatest leap of faith that came with loving Bonnie. Now, whilst watching him ditch button-ups in favour of short vests, giving you full view of his lean arms attacking bags and people with so much strength was fun, it was the wind in your hair as you sat behind him on his horse, arms wrapped around his middle, it was huddling up in your shared bed in the caravan and arguing as to whether or not you could fit another ugly knitted blanket on top of the rest of them, and the maps you kept in a drawer that was slowly becoming more crosses than roads with all the places you've visited- it was that which made you love this life all the more. Plus, living with you Bonnie and his family (who had welcomed you with open arms the second Bonnie introduced you) created a second home, a home that lived on wheels and trotted down dirt paths. You knew that Bonnie getting his boxing licence would make the travelling come to a halt, and Small Heath would have to be home for as long as there was a job to be done and a reward to be reaped. And you were okay with that. You really were. Maybe there were a few tears as you hugged Esmerelda, Naomie and especially little Floss (she was desperate to see Bonnie go head to head with the Peaky Blinders!) goodbye as they continued travelling, you knew Bonnie felt the absence of his sisters more than you would. So, you made sure he never felt lonely, and the bed never felt empty; well, it wasn't as if it was a particularly difficult task to keep him company.

Small Heath was not a particularly enthralling place. Although you were on friendly terms with the Shelbys and their clan (and that was no exaggeration, they multiplied like rabbits!) and, after many, many threats from both the elder and younger Gold, none of the younger Peakys were planning on making a move on you, it was the place itself that seemed to bore you. All those things that you'd learned to love from your life on the road- the fresh air, the constant movement, the friendly welcomes when you saw another caravan cross your path, and the freshly caught food cooked over an open fire- there was none of that here. The sky was full of fumes that burnt more than the dark char of over-exposed meat, there was no patches of grass or flowers and everything was so fucking grey. Grey streets, grey sky, and a very grey mood for you. Sometimes, when Bonnie and Aberama were busy with the Peaky business that they left you out of, you'd just go over to the Cut and sit by the water to get even the slightest feeling of being back amongst the rivers and streams where you and Bonnie would set a number of ugly knitted blankets down and spend the night besides. You always thought the sound of water, and the view of the stars was the best way to fall asleep. Bonnie said the best way was next to you. You loved him, you truly did, but things were getting hard. Bonnie was always so busy now, between boxing and whatever the hell Tommy bloody Shelby had him apart of. Wrapped up next to him under all the blankets was the most time you spent with him, and he was usually so spent from work that he was snoring after seconds of laying his head on the pillow. All you could do was hope he didn't wake as you breathed softly next to him, trying to ward off sleep as much as you can just to see him as much as you can. By the time the sun rose, he was already up and at it. In stinking Small Heath.

You didn't want to resent him for bringing you here. You wanted to be proud of him when he boasted about getting his boxing license. You wanted to be happy for him when he came back, completely sloshed, after a night out at the Garrison with the Peaky boys he'd gotten close to, and he smelt like bloody whiskey and cigarettes when he cuddled up to you, drunkenly nuzzling his nose into your neck. You hated whiskey and cigarettes. Well, at least you think you did. You hated everything right now. You had tried to distract yourself from this frustration that was slowly building up in you, especially after you 'accidentally' broke one of the cups Naomie had made. You would pay for that when you saw her again. You had gotten Charlie Strong and Curly's permission to help with the horses in the stables. Eventually, though, you just felt sorry for the poor buggers: trapped in a scrap yard in a place full of people and so little greenery. Of course, you refused to admit you were projecting your own feelings on them. After feeling lonely for too long, you decided to make friends with the Shelbys. The Peaky boys that Bonnie had become fast friends with were nice enough, and Bonnie was happy for the excuse to see you more. As for the Shelbys, you had to be honest, they were a bit bloody scary. Esmerelda had made sure you were prepared for them, and you kept a whittling knife on your person every time you left the isolating sanctuary of the caravan, so you knew full well you could keep yourself safe amongst the blood and gore of the gangsters.

Eventually though these feelings caught up with you. You didn't even bother leaving the caravan today, knowing the streets were only going to further sour your mood and, even the bright presence of Bonnie's sleepy, half-awake smile, couldn't stop your erratic scrubbing of the plates. Ever since the Naoime's-broken-pottery-you were-sure-to-pay-for incident, you had only been entrusted with the metal pots and pans that weren't so easy to shatter. Still, you managed to scrub the metal dish in such a way to rouse the weary boxer. He had the day off, as Arthur had told you the night before when you sat in the Garrison, and the rest of the boys gave such a cheer their whiskey splattered on your dress. Bonnie had blushed, but you could see the hints of mischief in his smirk. And, with Aberama taking last night and today back in Small Heath, there was no misunderstanding Bonnie's intentions. You heard his stumbling foot steps as you moved further out of the open caravan door, focusing far too much on the washcloth and the practically sparkling pot that you still scrubbed.

"Hey, dove," he said in  sing-song tone that usually made your heart melt. Now it made your blood boil.

"Mornin' Bon," you replied back, far too snappy for his soft voice. 

He was startled. You didn't have to see his face to know he had flinched, feeling the sudden twinge of pain in the air like a broken string.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kindly, reaching down to rest his hand over yours. Instantly, you dropped the pan and cloth on the floor, hearing it crash against the soft grass.

"Well, you'd know if you'd have been there!" Along with your swift movement to stand up, the fierceness in your voice made Bonnie back away into the caravan. He saw the frustration clear in your face, and his shoulders hung in shame. He knew he'd been busy- too busy- and it must've hurt you.

"I'm so sorry, dove, I swear I'm trying to do this for us." 

"For you! And all I fucking do is stay in this fucking city!"

"It's not for long- then we can have that life we planned, with the boxing licence and our own caravan and-"

"And I don't wanna be here!"

You screamed it so loud that you were sure the birds in the trees surrounding you had flapped away from your voice like a shot had been fired from one of the Golds' many, many guns. And Bonnie seemed like he wanted to flee too, face so smushed up and hurt.

"I hate this place! It's dirty and cold and it smells like fucking shit!" 

Bonnie felt his whole body crumble at the tightness in your face, the look of pure anger making your fists squeeze in so tight he knew your nails would be digging in. He was the boxer and it was of his opinion that you should never have to raise a fist like this. You must hate him. You must do, and he was feeling his broad shoulders dip at the wildness that flickered in your eyes.

"I don't want to be here!" It was the crack in your voice that revealed yourself. A crack that mended Bonnie's wounded expression into that of concern. You didn't hate him. You didn't. You probably didn't even mind stinking old Small Heath. 

"Then how about we get outta here?" He suggested, giving you that lopsided grin that always made you childishly giddy. Even now, with frustration embedding your palms, you felt a kinder warmth flood to your cheeks. With more confidence, he moved towards you, cupping your cheek as you felt yourself just drop a little without the weight of frustration on your shoulders.

"Please," you muttered, leaning forward to rest your forehead against yours. "I want fresh air and empty fields and a blanket next to a stream."

"Just you and me lying down and looking at the stars?"

"That's all, Bon."

"Then you'll get it. Let's get changed, pack some food and we can get on a horse and just keep on riding, ey?" You chuckled a little at his romantic proposition, burying yourself closing into his grasp. "And get out of smelly old Small Heath that's been keeping me away from my dove."

"You're gonna have a lot of time to make up for." A little bit of frustration still hung in your mind, but the sweet look of adoration on your Bonnie's face was enough to soothe it into a cheeky remark.

"Indeed I do," he whispered into your neck. His expression got sadder again. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

#bonnie gold #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold imagine #bonnie gold fanfiction #bonnie gold fanfic #bonnie gold preference #bonnie gold fluff #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders preference #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders oc #Aberama Gold #tommy shelby #Arthur shelby

[beyondspaceandstars]

While You Sleep

Chapter 6

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: mainly fluffy, brief mentions of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

(a/n: this was probably the most fun chapter for me to write so far it just came out so cute and sweet i think!! also super sorry all my energy has been focused on this fic i haven’t written many other one shots or anything i just really am getting into this story!)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

When you woke up the next day, something new was in the air. Everything felt lighter, a bit more relaxed. You actually felt refreshed for what seemed like the first time in your life. As dramatic as it sounds, it was unreal. 

You sat up in bed, taking in the morning without the dread. Sure, prior to your dream last night there were bits of chaos still lurking. You couldn’t ignore it and it certainly was not going to go away overnight but everything had shifted, and you could at least appreciate what lulled you to sleep. 

You sighed, almost looking off into a daydream like a lovestruck school girl. You had seen Bucky in such a normal fashion just sitting in his bed reading. You didn’t know when exactly the memory had been from but that didn’t matter. It was something without violence, it was a real look at him. He was so content as he focused on the book...

But you didn’t have the time to sit around pondering about your soulmate’s hobbies forever. You still had a life to get on with. 

Despite your body’s reluctance, you lugged yourself out of bed and started getting your work uniform together. There was a bit of pep in your step, a complete contrast to just a few weeks ago when you were pulling yourself around holding on to the last bit of will you had. It was insane what one meeting with a soulmate could do. Maybe you now understood everyone’s fuss over it.

You redid your hair and touched up your makeup before packing your bag for the day. Once your sneakers were on and you felt actually good (the most glorious feeling, you thought), you headed out your apartment door. 

As you were making your way down the stairs, you noticed someone was waiting by the building’s entrance. You rarely ever saw people around the space so the figure stunned you a bit. As you walked closer, though, you recognized that shoulder-length brown hair.

“Bucky?” You said, surprised, as you opened the lobby door. He turned around, greeting you with a warm smile.

“Good morning.” He spoke so casually as if he always stood outside your apartment waiting for you.

“Everything okay?” You asked, suddenly worried his presence here wasn’t as cheery as he was leading on.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I just came to walk you to work if that’s okay.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “Walk me to work? W-Why?”

Bucky shifted his stance slightly as if suddenly embarrassed. “Because I think that’s something that, uh… that…”

“Soulmates,” you said, finishing his sentence. Bucky looked relieved at that. “That’s something soulmates do?”

He chuckled at the little smirk you were giving him. Your heart felt so full at the thought of Bucky wanting to walk you to work, make sure you got there safe and everything. Maybe even check out the area where you spent most of your days. 

“You can say no, of course.”

You shook your head. “I’m flattered you want to walk me.”

At your acceptance, Bucky extended his elbow for you to take. You giggled as your hand wrapped around his arm and you two began on the route. You were too giddy to look back up at Bucky, even though you could feel him sneaking glances at you, so you turned your attention to his arm. Surprisingly, it was the metal one he had offered to you. While most of it was covered by the sweater he wore, his hand was still peaking out of the sleeve. You stared down at it, curiously, watching the light bounce off the material and listening to the little groans it made as his fingers moved every now and then. 

“It’s not going to hurt you,” Bucky said suddenly, making you jump. You quickly pulled your gaze away, opting instead to look up at him. Your heart sank at the tinge of worry behind his eyes. 

You shook your head as your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “I didn’t think it would,” you confessed, honestly. “I just think it’s interesting.”

He hummed, unsure. “Interesting?”

A sudden uneasiness fell over you as you found yourself maybe crossing lines now. Sure, you had seen here and there in the nightmares what the arm had done, but you also could see that wasn’t what it was doing right now. Right now it wasn’t a weapon, a danger. It was a guide for you, physically bringing you a tad bit closer to your soulmate. 

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged. You had to choose your words carefully, you thought. “I don’t have to tell you this but it’s unlike anything else out there. It’s powerful. Seems very strong, as well. Probably… Probably has seen a lot but you extended it towards me showing you’re at least a little comfortable with it,” A pause. “I-I don’t think it defines you if that’s what you’re worried about, despite how it’s -- how you -- have been weaponized.”

Bucky didn’t respond at first, making your heart plummet. Had you actually burnt this entire thing down in less than twenty-four hours? You two fell into silent steps as you continued your path to work.

As you rounded a corner, just when you were about to spontaneously tell him it was okay if he never wanted to see you again, Bucky finally spoke up.

“Have you seen the things I’ve done?”

“I’ve read some articles-,”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You brought yourself to a stop on the sidewalk. Bucky halted beside you and shook off your grip. You frowned at the action but didn’t acknowledge it any further. 

“I don’t think it matters what I’ve seen,” you said, a bit of confidence finally mustered up in your tone. It was true, too. Over the past few hours, you hadn’t seen anything from the nightmares that aligned with the actual Bucky in front of you. “We can discuss this another time but I promise you, Bucky, I’m only focusing on what I see right now. Right now I see a man who voluntarily woke up at a ridiculous hour just so he could surprise me and walk me to work. It’s incredible.”

Bucky’s eyes were faintly glossing over, threatening to cry. You didn’t know what to do other than take his hand, intertwining your touch with his metal one. He accepted it, wordlessly. With a nod, you got back on your walking route to the shop. 

“Thank you, doll,” Bucky said just above a whisper. You nearly missed it. Your heart did somersaults as you registered the words.

You two fell into more silence until you decided you needed to lighten the mood. You weren’t letting him drop you off at work like this. 

“Now,” you said, clearing your throat as your own tears had just about formed, “how did you spend the rest of your night?”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing crazy,” he sighed. “I did some reading before bed.”

“Hmm.” Your interest had been peaked. You thought back to the little dream you had last night, portraying a very studious Bucky. You figured that while it was recent, it wasn’t from last night (dreams rarely ever came through that quick), making you now curious of his reading choices. “Interesting. Wouldn’t have taken you for a reader. What’s the book about?”

He let out a breathy chuckle. “Some new science fiction series Steve picked up for me,” Bucky explained. “I’m not too far into it but I think it has something to do with time traveling.”

You nearly laughed. You thought back to how the nightmares you had been getting recently were all over the place as if you were on your own time-traveling journey -- only it was the cruelest way possible. Fate was such a character. 

“Is that the kind of books you prefer? Science fiction?”

Bucky nodded, “Guess I’ve always been interested in all that science stuff.”

That science stuff. You giggled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you said. “I’ve fallen a bit out of reading but I’d love to get your recommendations one day.”

“I’m not exactly well versed in all the books out there.” Because he had missed so much -- there was always that unspoken fact in every other thing he said. You wished you could coax him out of that habit but that didn’t seem possible right now. I

“Well, good thing I’m not looking to know about all the books,” you smiled, looking up at him, “I’m just looking to know about your books. Whatever comes across your radar that you end up loving, I’d like to hear about it.”

Bucky returned the smile. “What did you do with the rest of your night?”

“Nothing really,” you shrugged, turning your focus back to the sidewalk ahead of you. “I fell asleep pretty much right after getting home.”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you. From the corner of your vision, you could see a bit of a frown on his lips. 

“You didn’t do anything?”

You shook your head.

“No hobbies or anything?”

You sighed. “I’m usually just too tired or too into work to do very much. Last night had been… Overwhelming for me, I think. When it was over, I was exhausted. All of me, body and mental.”

You felt Bucky’s thumb start rubbing soothing patterns on the back of your hand. Your breath caught a bit in your throat. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean for you to get overwhelmed.”

You began shaking your head profusely, “No, no, it’s not your fault, Bucky,” you insisted, “I psyched myself out a bit, I think.”

He let out a long sigh at that. “Well, you shouldn’t do that anymore,” he said, so sincerely. “I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”

“We do?” You looked up at him but he had already turned away. “Oh, you mean what soulmates do.”

“The word still gets caught on the tip of my tongue.”

Your cheeks started feeling hot. “I understand.”

As the conversation faded, your coffee shop came into view. You two stopped outside it. Glancing in the window, you made eye contact with your coworker who had just begun setting up for the day. Her eyes got wide as she realized who the man was behind you. Her shock promptly morphed into excitement.

You turned back to Bucky. “Thank you for accompanying me.”

He flashed you a smile, making your heart just absolutely dissolve. “Of course,” he said. “Anyday, anytime. I’d be happy to accompany you anywhere.”

You were shamelessly full-on blushing, once again feeling like a ridiculous school girl. You had to avert your gaze as Bucky’s eyes on you were making you feel all sorts of things in these fluffy moments. 

With a pointless nod and no more words, you turned to face the coffee shop entrance. One hand on the handle, you stood there. Just holding it. You could hear Bucky walking away. 

Fuck it, you thought. 

You quickly turned back around and dashed to catch up with him. He was walking so leisurely as if he expected this. You called out his name and he whipped around promptly, looking as if he was fighting back another smile. 

“Here,” you said as you grabbed a napkin and pen from your bag and scribbled down your phone number. “It’s my number in case you want to, I don’t know, text me or call or something.” 

He took the napkin gently as if it was the most precious gem in the world seconds away from shattering. With a nod, Bucky responded, “Sure, doll. Thank you.”

You smiled, giving him a nod back. That wasn’t all, though. You had another caution to throw into the wind. Quickly, you placed your hand on Bucky’s shoulder and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. It was so fast you barely had time to register your own movement but Bucky definitely picked up on it. Now his face was the one with a tinge of warm color coming up on it.

“Have a good shift.” It was all Bucky seemed capable of saying as he shot you a wider smile, eyes softening at your nervous form. Before you could respond anymore, prolonging this weird but sweet goodbye for the day, he resumed his walk back. 

As feelings of all sorts washed over, you headed back to the coffee shop where you finally entered… And was greeted by your coworker standing in front of the entrance, arms crossed, staring you down.

“Good morning,” you said, avoiding eye contact and trying to get around her. She stepped in your path.

“Was that…” You nodded before she could finish the words. She broke out into a surprise fit of giggles. “You met him?” She asked in disbelief. 

You nodded. “Last night. We had dinner and he walked me home. It was very nice.” You kept it short and sweet, not feeling like gossiping about something so fresh. But you also secretly wanted to just throw everything out there. It was exciting, it was new. Overall, though, it felt great. 

Your coworker let out gasps, almost in awe. “That’s so exciting,” she said. “Is he, like, nice? Anything like-,”

You shook your head quickly, making her cut off her words. “He’s nothing like…” You didn’t want to say them anymore. Well, at least for right now. You knew a talk with Bucky about it all had to be coming but you want to push it aside for now. “He’s wonderful. A true gentleman. He showed up this morning to walk me to work. What man nowadays would do that?” You chuckled, almost in your own state of disbelief. “Plus, he’s kind of fascinating. Unexpected, even. Would you have guessed he’s a reader?”

You made your way farther into the shop, discarding your bag and throwing on an apron. You began wiping down the counters as your coworker followed. 

“He sounds almost… normal?”

You stopped your movement, taking in that observation. You finally nodded in agreement. Yeah, you guessed that so far he was kind of normal. At least, personality-wise. 

After a moment you said, “I think I’m glad I didn’t try to move on.”

Despite not looking at her, you knew your coworker wore another ridiculous, lovey smile. She was practically in awe and, you had to admit, you kind of were, too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist under construction right now, deepest apologies!

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #avengers #fanfiction #soulmate au #slow burn #fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

[quietmyfearswith]

fussy ; preferences

warnings — don’t think there’s any swear words here,, angst? fluff? clingy!reader, mean!laurie

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, bucky barnes, lance tucker,  syverson, august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DDLG FIC,, was inspired by this ask! to the anon who requested for it i hope you like it and tell me what you think!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space

masterlist

Andy and Y/N went over to the city where Laurie and Jacob moved to. A party was held to celebrate Jacob’s graduation from high school and a sendoff for when he heads to university. Y/N was chatting up with Jacob as they both were preparing the snacks and appetizers for the guests that would later on arrive. The two didn’t feel awkward around each other; in fact they shared a lot of similarities, and could easily converse about anything. “Jacob, I think some of your friends are here already,” With that Jacob politely excused himself and before Y/N could find Andy, Laurie approached her. “So you and Andy are still together huh?” She sounded amused which made her feel awkward; she nodded to answer her question. “I’m surprised that you two lasted for so long,” Y/N had to step back in order to create distance between her and Laurie. “I mean, when I heard that you two were dating I thought that it was just Andy having a rebound; I didn’t actually think he’d stay this long with you.” Y/N’s lips were starting to quiver as her frantics eyes began to look around for Andy. As she locked eyes with Andy, she made me a move to go for him but just before she can do so, Laurie had a final jab at her with a smirk, “Perhaps he still is in that phase.”

Pushing her way past Laurie, she headed to enter the house, Andy noticed how Y/N’s demeanor changed and handed over some of the decorations he was putting up to Laurie’s boyfriend and chased after her.  Grabbing her arm, the lawyer guided the two to one of the vacant rooms, “What's wrong?” Y/N made grabby hands for Andy once she sat on the bed, her eyes were letting down a few tears that were peeking earlier due to what Laurie had been saying. He complied, engulfing her around in his warm embrace, stroking her hair as he was trying his best to calm her down as her whole body shook, “She was being mean to me, dada.” Andy moved a bit so he could see her face and wiped away tears that stained her face, “Who was being mean to you, missy?” After taking deep breaths, Y/N explained, “Laurie said the only reason dada is with me is because I’m your rebound.” Anger fueled within Andy upon hearing the lie that was told to his love; he decided that it was best to talk about it with Laurie later, but his focus right now was calming down the beloved girl in his arms. Situating her in his lap, he pressed loving kisses all over her face as his hands comfortingly rubbed her back, “Whatever she said to you isn’t true, missy. Dada loves you and you’re not his rebound. You’re the love and light of my life; you are the person that completes me.”

Y/N was mad at August; he burnt her nuggies, didn’t play with her during her playtime, and now he opted to sleep in the other room since he was too far busy with his work. Tossing and turning around their spacious bed didn’t lull her to sleep since she missed the warmth and love provided to her by her loving boyfriend. Gripping her stuffie with one hand, she stood and left the bed, venturing to the part of the house where she suspected her daddy would be. Barefoot and in her nightgown, she knocked on the door and with the lack of answer, she entered slowly. 

Seeing her daddy with no shirt and just some sweatpants on the bed made her long for the moments she’d get to spend all day wrapped in his arms. Quietly climbing on the bed, she moved his arm that was stretched across the mattress, lifting it and placing it above her body. Feeling movement around him, August moved his head and sleepily mumbled, “Little one?” She nodded as she kissed his forehead, “It’s me, daddy.” On instinct, he turned so his whole body faced hers; wrapping his legs around hers as his arms scooped her arm so her side was flushed against his, “Not mad at daddy anymore?” Shaking her head, she played with his chest hairs a bit as her eyes began to sleepily drop before confirming, “Not mad, daddy. I missed being with you.”

It was going to be a big mission; Bucky knew that hence why he was packing and repacking his duffel bags that he’d be bringing for the mission. “Tătic,” Y/N wailed, “Come be with me!” Despite being a man of control, it took every ounce of it for Bucky not to drop what he was doing and cuddle up Y/N. “Not now, sweetheart. I need to make sure I have everything.” The girl let out a loud grunt as she continued watching her favorite cartoons with her arms crossed; the sergeant not appreciating the slight presence of her brat attitude by yelling, “I heard that!”

“I just want my tătic to be with me before he leaves me again,” There was less anger in her sentence but more sadness. And even when he was in the other side of their living quarters, the super soldier was able to pick it up which led him to finish up quickly arranging his things to find his girl pouting as she watched. Sitting beside her he patted his lap, “Come sit here, sweetie.” The girl leapt out and did so as she snuggled the top of her head against Bucky’s chin. “Is that what this is all about, sweetie? You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone?” Nodding, she fiddled with the fingers on his metal arm; she always loved the coldness it always had. “I always miss you, tătic; I wanna spend as much time with you as I can before you leave.”

Y/N knew Steve would be coming back soon from his meeting so she busied herself by having a  tea party with her stuffies. “There you go, Bunbun, be careful now the tea’s quite hot,” She spoke to her stuffie as she poured him some of the imaginary liquid. When she heard some keys shake accompanied by the sound of the door unlocking, Y/N bounced from where she was sitting and excitedly turned to where the sounds were coming from. Smiling widely, her eyes glimmered with excitement and relief that finally her daddy was here, “How’s my little doll?” 

“Want you to hold me please sir? I missed you!” She requested softly but didn’t move from where she was seated — knowing that she wasn’t given the permission yet to move. Steve then sat beside her and patted his lap, and the girl took it as her cue to hover him. Wrapping her arms around his neck she took the super soldier back in surprise with the force for he lost balance and ended up laying down as he chuckles loudly at his girl’s antics. “You missed me too much? I was only gone for a few hours, doll,” But she pouted at him and instead countered, “Few hours too long, sir!” Sitting up with the girl still tightly latched onto him, Steve then kissed her nose as he promised, “Well you get me for the rest of the day now, doll; what do you wanna do?”

Even following his retirement from the army, Syverson saw to it that he exercises everyday to keep in shape. As he was doing his pushups in the backyard, he was surprised to see his Y/N come out in the sun with a tray of cold beverages. “What you got there, baby girl?” He mused as he paused his workout and sat down on the mat. Smiling as she drank from her cup she beamed, “Made you a drink, Captain. Thought you might be thirsty.” Nodding he waved her off, “Thanks for that baby; but I'll drink one later okay?”

Y/N wasn’t given a chance to argue since he immediately went back to his workout routine. And as he did so, her eyes suddenly found themselves focusing on Sy’s bulging and muscular arms. She always loved being wrapped around them and letting her fingertips run over the skin there. Wanting to feel him around here again she whimpered out loud, “Captain.” As he was in the middle of doing a plank, he whipped his head to look over to his girl and raised his brows as sweat dropped on it. Making grabby hands was all that she could do and the former soldier didn’t have enough heart to ignore her any longer so he abandoned his current position and walked towards her, lifting her up, chuckling as her legs went around his waist and her hands wrapped themselves around his neck. “You’re my needy baby girl aren’t you?” Despite his teasing, Y/N could only nod as she nuzzled against his neck, planting kisses on his sweat-soaked skin.

The gymnastics competition just ended and it went well for Lance; since his student won gold and silver. Y/N had been given firm and clear instructions that after the event Lance would pick her up from her seat. And like a good girl she was still sitting down even if the games ended 15 minutes ago. Her head was moving left and right, searching for a trace of her boyfriend. Both her legs were bouncing as she was aching to leave the place since she wanted to spend time with him. Being shoved and pushed around, even when she was seated, was inevitable with the other spectators wishing to vacate the gymnasium. There was also a kid that threw his soda cup in a fit and she was unfortunately splashed with some of the liquid; the brat’s parents didn’t even apologize but instead just dragged their kid away.

As she was wiping some of the sticky liquid off her, a worried voice asked her, “What happened to you, angel?” Her eyes glowed upon seeing his handsome face, her earlier bothered state quickly melting away upon seeing him. “Papa, hi!” She squeaked out in joy and moved to hug him but was halted when the gymnast placed both his hands on her shoulders; he was amused at how quick her mood shifted but was concerned about her so he reiterated his question, “What happened, angel? What are you wiping off?” Y/N pouted as she clawed at his forearms, after a long day of watching and having to be big she just wanted nothing more but to snuggle up to him. And when he didn’t give in to what she wanted, she answered, “Some kid threw his soda, papa. Got me a little wet but it’s fine,” Lance was about to argue that it wasn’t fine but was quickly cut off by his angel’s whiny demands, “Just wanna snuggle you, papa. I missed you.” letting go of her shoulders, he then wrapped his arms around her and she was more than happy about it as she laid her cheek against his shoulder, “Congratulations, papa. I love you.”

“King, stop it tickles,” Y/N giggled as her sides were being intruded by the fingertips of Ransom. “Why not, princess? It’s so fun isn’t it,” He laughed as she squirmed from where she was sitting right across him. After the two had their lunch, they retreated to the couch so he could read to his princess who was feeling little. From reading storybooks, Ransom could sense his baby was getting all needy so he put the book down to turn his attention to his baby. As Y/N was busy laughing and pushing Ransom’s hands away, she failed to warn him how she was so close to puking the meal she just ate. “Stop, stop, king,” Was the only warning she gave before being able to push his hands away and quickly stand up to head towards the bathroom. “Princess?” Ransom followed her and his heart sank as he saw her throwing up on the toilet bowl. Immediately kneeling behind her, he pulled back her hair that framed the front of her face. Rubbing his hand on her back, “Let it out, princess.”

Once she was done, the former playboy took it upon himself to flush the toilet and grab some tissue to wipe her mouth of any more vomit. He grabbed her hand, indicating for her to stand and when she did he guided her to the sink and lifted her so she could sit on the countertop. “I’m gonna brush your teeth now, okay?” She nodded and automatically opened her mouth so when he brought her toothpaste-filled bristles against her teeth. After he had cleaned her teeth and rid of the putrid traces of vomit, Y/N pouted her lip as she looked at Ransom with glossy eyes, “I’m so sorry, I liked our playtime so much and I shouldn’t have moved around too much.” Placing both his hands on her cheeks, he lifted her face so they both looked directly at each other’s eyes, “It’s not your fault okay? I should have not played with you too much, princess.” Nodding, she wrapped her arms around Ransom as best she could, “I wanna cuddle with you king.” Kissing her nose, he lifted her off the counter and onto their bedroom, “We can do that, princess.”

#quietmyfearswith #My writing #chris evans x reader #henry cavill x reader #sebastian stan x reader #andy barber x reader #august walker x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #captain syverson x reader #syverson x reader #lance tucker x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #daddy!andy barber x little!reader #daddy!august walker x little!reader #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy!steve rogers x little!reader #daddy!syverson x little!reader #daddy!lance tucker x little!reader #daddy!ransom drysdale x little!reader #daddy!ransom thrombey x little!reader

[reidecorating]

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift. 

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :) 

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding. 

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do. 

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it. 

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request. 

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door. 

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well. 

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake. 

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :) 

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

 ∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-” 

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far. 

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way. 

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist. 

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?” 

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally  drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him. 

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,” 

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders. 

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen  at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,” 

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing,  trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud. 

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come. 

#this was almost as long as their elevator ride #me? writing? unheard of #this took so long i don't know if it's even fully edited but we'll see #hope u guys have fun reading it!! #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg fic #spencer reid x reader #mgg oneshot #cbs criminal minds #gublernation #spencer reid smut #spencer reid self insert #mine: writing

[jishyucks]

And They Were Roommates ‣ ldh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn (?)

‣ wc: 10.7k

‣ summary: “It was unbearable living beneath you and now living with you? No thanks.” ; alternatively where Donghyuck needs a place to stay and you’re the only option left

‣ tw: mentions of a fire happening and its aftermath (nothing drastic and super detailed)

requested by anonymous

a/n: I’m not the best at writing slow burn type of fics so pls forgive me if it seems rushed! Enjoy!

i.

You would have never thought you’d be wishing for some expensive sound proof headphones at four in the morning.  Not when you remembered the building owner saying that the place was peaceful and perfect for a university student like you. But because of your upstairs neighbour, Lee Donghyuck, it was bluntly known to those who lived around him that this detail no longer exists with him around.

You suddenly remembered the first night after he had moved in. You were ecstatic to have someone your age in the building. It was a good change from the small families and aging elderly. The idea of making a new friend that lived so close to you brought a deep sense of excitement. But all those thoughts were cleared from your head once you had realized that Donghyuck was going to be that type of neighbour.

He seemed to save graveyard hours for his gaming, not being shy to shout out strings of profanities and shouts of victory with his entire chest. The floors were nearly as thin as paper and everything that spewed from his mouth had gone dead straight into your ears. It was if he was sitting in your living room.

Groaning deeply, you push yourself off of your bed and run your fingers roughly through your hair, preparing yourself to face the devil himself. You slammed a fist into one of your many pillows and stood up, sliding your feet into your slippers in the process. All this energy wasted and sleep lost for one irritating boy that didn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

“No,” Donghyuck smirked, “I’m not going to kindly shut the fuck up.” He leaned against the doorframe and scoffed, “Especially since you asked me.” You could barely see his eyes as his bangs covered them like drapes. In his hand he held his headphones, one of those fancy ones that lit up.

“Don’t make me tape your mouth shut,” you threatened and rolled your eyes, “When are you going to learn?”

The smirk on his face deepened as he leaned closer to you, “Oh I did. But I choose not to apply that knowledge.” He returned to his previous pose, tapping his foot impatiently.

Breathing fire, you scowled and let an angry sound erupt from your chest. You knew it wasn’t going to do anything yet you let it out out of pure frustration.

“Are you done now? I need to get back to gaming,”  he stuck a lip out as if he were begging you to leave, but it made you cringe so hard that that alone would have had you willingly fleeing from his floor and back to yours without question.

“No, I’m not done,” you retorted through gritted teeth, “Can you do your fucking–”

“Can you two please keep it down?” Donghyuck’s neighbour had poked her head out her own door, eyes unable to keep open. She was wrapped tightly in a robe and was probably half asleep. You felt bad. You knew how she felt. It was unfortunate that she lived next to a human air horn.

“Yeah, keep it down,” Donghyuck sniggered, directing all fault to you, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo but Y/N here is being quite an irritating little rat. Goodnight, Mrs. Seo.” Without a second thought nor glance, Donghyuck closed the door in your face, making sure to laugh out loud in the process.

You shot him one last glare at him through the door, hoping he’d somehow unconsciously feel the heat from your eyes and flipped him off all before turning sharply towards the stairs.

ii.

Donghyuck wasn’t one to have his moods change quickly. Often he’d spend an entire day in a good mood and if not, a terrible mood. And today, after meeting up with his friends across town, he could sense that this day could not go wrong.

It was about mid-afternoon when he arrived back at the building. From the bus’ view, he had spotted a fire truck parked along the fire lane in front of the apartment building. Off to the side, he could see familiar faces anxiously waiting to get back into their building.

“Mrs. Seo?” Donghyuck was puzzled at the scene. It was as if he’d walked into a movie theatre in the middle of its showing. There was no context provided and he was desperately curious.

“Donghyuck, it’s your room,” she hadn’t held back any information, “I heard Lisa and the twins arriving home from school and they knocked on my door and pointed at smoke leaking from underneath your door… we called the fire department and–“

“Who is the owner of apartment six-jay?” A firefighter slipped through the crowd, voice with great clarity in order for everyone to hear. Donghyuck has raised his hand. Everyone was soon led back into the building, being directed towards the stairs instead of the elevator as they had been shut off.

The firefighters led Donghyuck to his room once everyone had finally gotten to their own apartments. Donghyuck hadn’t completely processed the fact that his home was almost probably all ash. He needed to see it to believe it.

The door had been kicked to the ground, basically demolished. What used to be his kitchen was nothing but darkened wood and his living room was almost unrecognizable. Donghyuck’s mind runs back to all the previous belongings he had that were probably lost in the fire. He felt his shoulders grow heavy and his posture worsened by the second.

“The fire started from your room and it quickly spread throughout the apartment. It’s a wonder how the fire didn’t spread throughout the entire building, but everyone’s lucky that your neighbour had noticed smoke,” the firefighter explained, “The source of the fire was from all of the wires in your room…”

“Is there anything that wasn’t burned?” Donghyuck had finally processed everything. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. Everything was gone.

“You can see so for yourself,” the man had handed Donghyuck some safety gear and a box, “In these conditions, please be aware that there might not be anything left but it is still good to make sure.”

After rummaging through what looked like dirt, Donghyuck soon had come to the realization that the fireman was right. Not even his bed was in good condition. The fire had consumed nearly every single thing that belonged to him, aside from some clothes encased in his closet.

Before the firemen needed to leave, the last one out turned to Donghyuck, “Do you have any place to stay in for the meantime?”

He shrugged, “I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll figure it out… thank you.”

Nearly losing his entire ability to think straight, he found himself sitting on the rusting bench right outside the building. He only had his wallet, his phone, his charger, and the box of clothes that was safe from the flames.

He dialed Renjun first. He lived the closest and the hustle wouldn’t be as bad as going to Jeno’s or Jaemin’s.

“Hyuck? What’s up?” By the sound of it, Renjun was chewing on something crunchy, words muffled by the food.

“Hey, my… home burnt down…” Donghyuck wasn’t quite sure how he should break the news. He was still numb from the realization that he was basically homeless right now.

Renjun choked on his snack, “Your apartment? Like it’s all gone?” He was as shocked as he was when he got the news, “Is everything fine?”

“Yeah it is… except for the fact that I have nowhere to go while they fix it,” he sighed through the line, “T-that’s why I called you… I was wondering if I could possibly stay with you?” Donghyuck kicked his foot against the deteriorating pavement, feeling a slight bit embarrassed. Renjun was silent at the other end, probably thinking up ways this could happen. As the silence grew longer, Donghyuck started to wonder whether or not it was a good or bad thing. Maybe he was already getting stuff ready, or maybe he was trying to think of an easy way to let him down.

“Hyuck?” The tone was bad.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure I can let you stay here… you know I live with Yangyang and Chenle so it’s a bit crowded?” Renjun explained, “You already know I’d let you if there was free space…I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, Jun. I still have one option left so it’s not like you’re my last chance,” trying to brighten the mood, he forced out a small chuckle before he decided that ending the call was the best for him and Renjun, “I’ll see you, tomorrow?”

“I will! Good luck. I hope you find a place to stay.”

“Thanks, Junnie.” And the call ended.

Donghyuck scrolled through his contacts and straight to the J’s. He pressed on ‘Jeno/Jaemin’ as it was the landline and listened to it ring once before Jaemin picked up, “Donghyuckie! What’s up?”

He went through the same process as Renjun, only wishing that their answer was at the opposite of Renjun’s.

“It’s not that we don’t want you to stay with us… but it’s just that we don’t have space and it’ll be embarrassing if we let you stay with us… we’d feel bad for you.”

“You guys are my last chance,” he huffed out, “Where else can I go?”

“Maybe they have extra room on campus?” Jeno rang in, “I heard they have extra rooms in case a random student comes in.”

“I’ll try that… thanks guys.”

“We’re sorry!”

“It’s fine… bye.”

Donghyuck slumped in his seat, straightening his legs underneath him. He would rather not want to pay for an over expensive room at the university… but if that was his only choice, then so be it.

You hopped out of the bus, thanking the driver as you did. It caught Donghyuck’s attention almost immediately, head shooting at your direction. You were completely aware of Donghyuck’s glare and presence, firing back your own well planned glare. The hell was his problem? Quickening your pace, you yanked the door open and practically teleported inside and onto the elevator.

A small grin was soon plastered on Donghyuck’s face. An idea had popped into his head. But he wasn’t quite sure if it was a good one.

-

A heavy knock at your door had startled you. You were halfway to sleep, a nap calling you helplessly as you stared blankly at the Netflix screen. Whoever stood on the other side of that door didn’t know how to wait. It sounded like this person had a countless number of hands as the knocking didn’t dare stop until you unlocked your door.

You swung the door open to find Donghyuck standing in front of you. The way he held his body didn’t radiate the energy he usually held. It was actually quite depressing to see. It was like for once, Donghyuck wasn’t the vain and rambunctious boy that lived above you. He had his hands deep in his hoodie pockets and he wore a natural pout on his lips.

“What are you doing here?” It was surprisingly natural how the tone in your voice had sounded irritated. You were just used to speaking to him in such a way.

“I’m not here to piss you off,” he mumbled seriously.

You were thrown off at his reply, “Huh?”

“Can I come in?” If you weren’t looking at him as he spoke, you could probably hear his frown, “Please?” The sincerity in his eyes really proved that he was desperate about something and you weren’t quite sure what.

You wearily shuffled behind your door and let him through. Closing the door behind him, you turn around and see him rocking back and forth in place. It was weird seeing him in your home, “Okay… speak.”

“My entire apartment was burned. There’s basically nothing left,” he explained, “They said it was some type of electrical mishap because of my gaming stuff.”

If it was the right moment, you’d make fun of him for it. But you held yourself back as you sensed that the Donghyuck in front of you was not in the mood for pestering. How did you not know that the apartment directly above you had basically vanished from flames? “Oh… I’m sorry to hear that… and why are you telling me this?”

It took awhile for him to reply. He stared down at your feet, unable to string the right words together. It was a weird type of silence.

“I’m telling you this because I have a proposition.”

You sit down on your couch, “A proposition?”

“You know, like a proposal…”

“I know what a fucking proposition is, dumbass. What is it?” Donghyuck has never failed to provoke you.

“You let me stay here until they fix my place… and once I move back, I won’t make a single peep after one o’clock,” a sheepish expression surfaced on his face. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

“Don’t you have friends?” you held back a laugh.

“I do, but none of them can take me in… you’re literally my only hope right now.”

“No. It was unbearable living beneath you and now living with you? No thanks,” you stood up and approached your door. Sure you felt kind of bad for him, but there was no way you were going to let this clown live with you.

He stopped your hand from turning the knob before he fell to his knees. He begged, “Please~ Please, Y/N! I’ll try not to keep you awake, I just need a place to sleep and eat and…” His bottom lip jutted out like a little toddler who was dying to play games on your phone.

You push him lightly out your door and sighed, “Look I’m really not looking for a roommate right now.” And it was true. There was a reason that you were still living alone after months of starting university.

“Please?” He sounded desperate now.

“No, Donghyuck,” you answered, “How about beg one of your friends?”

“I’m going to sit out here until you let me in,” he threatened.

“Do I look like I care? Because I don’t,” you say bluntly. You closed the door and went back to the nap you were ever so craving. If Donghyuck really was going to sit outside of your apartment, then let him. He was going to give up anyway.

The echoing sound of your empty stomach woke you up from your nap. The sunset being framed by your window indicated that it was inching closer to dinner time. A reminder had popped into your head that your kitchen held no groceries for dinner, meaning that you had to eat out and buy groceries. Which was perfectly fine with you.

Opening your apartment door, you feel a somewhat heavy object fall abruptly onto your feet. You shut your eyes tight, afraid that if you looked down you’d see something straight out of a horror film. It took a prolonged moment for you to actually build up the courage to open your eyes and look down.

Once you had reached the minimum amount of courage, you looked to your feet and found Donghyuck holding his head. He continued to curse under his breath, looking up at you, obviously irritated about what had just happened.

“Donghyuck, what the fuck?” You hit him with your purse, mostly because of how frightened you had been, “What the hell are you doing there?”

“I told you. I’m sitting out here until you let me stay with you,” he stood up and dusted off his pants, “I fell asleep.”

You gave him a dead look, not having it with him. This was the most you had conversed with him in one day and you really had to admit that talking to someone like Donghyuck was rather tiresome. Your door locked behind you as you pushed past him, ignoring the way he stood up with the built up energy he had in his body.

“Where are you going?” he followed you willingly. “Dinner. Groceries,” you mumbled. You were praying for the elevator to come faster.

“I’m coming with you,” he stated, standing at your side.

“No you’re not.”

As if the film had cut to the next scene, you found yourself sitting across from Donghyuck at a nearby McDonald’s. He was munching on his nth chicken nugget, cold drink in the other, as he blinked at whatever car drove past the building. The silence was awkward, but you’d rather it be awkward than hear his voice for at least the entirety of your stay at the restaurant. With his backpack sitting next to him, he looked like one of those kids you’d baby sit right after school.

Once you finished, you threw your garbage on the way out and started to walk to the grocery store right across the street. It wasn’t a surprise to you when you hear the nearing footsteps of Donghyuck. He didn’t say anything, he sort of just floated next to you.

Upon entering the store, you were actually relieved to see that Donghyuck had gone his own way. At first you thought about packing your cart with all that you needed and leaving him. But then you realized that there was seriously no use because he knew where you lived. At this realization, you decided that taking time was better on your energy level.

About ten minutes into the shopping trip, you were bent down in the ramen aisle, eyeing down which spice level you should get. Often, you’d get mild, but you found yourself needing more than what the package provided. The only thing holding you back was what if the ultra spicy was too spicy? Then it’d be a waste of ramen.

“Oh there you are,” Donghyuck had slipped into the aisle with his own basket full of goods, “I thought you left me or something.”

You glare at him before giving up and throwing both flavours into your cart, “You better be paying for your own stuff.” You start to roll it down to the front of the store and to self checkout.

“Of course I am,” he dropped his own basket to the checkout next to yours and started doing his own thing.

There was still a bit of hope in you that maybe, hopefully, one of Donghyuck’s friends would offer him a nice place to stay in instead of yours. But when you still felt the boy’s presence behind you as you left your apartment building’s elevator, you knew damn well that he really wasn’t going anywhere.

You groaned and turned around to face him. You noticed that you had startled him by the way his eyes widened and how he jumped back a bit, “You’re really not going to leave me alone, are you?” At this point, your fingers were grazing your door’s handle.

You thought about it on the way up. If you did let Donghyuck stay with you, you could tell him what to do and what not to do. It would be amusing. If he ever refused, you could tell him that he would have to find another place to stay. You could use it to your advantage.

Shaking his head, Donghyuck straightened his back, “Nope. Not at all.” His determination said it all. It was weaved with hints of desperation and you knew how easy it would be to persuade the boy into doing anything.

“Okay then…” you unlocked your door and gently pushed it open, “I’ll let you stay with me.” Before he could rejoice, you stopped him, “But on a few conditions.”

He nodded, “Anything.”

“Keep up your end of the bargain, the one you said earlier,” you started, “You can’t make any noise when I say so. Boundaries are important. No long showers. Remember that you’re a guest under my roof.”

“As long as I have a place to stay, then I’ll follow your rules,” he stated seriously. You weren’t sure if you could trust him or not. After all, it was Donghyuck. Not even 24 hours ago, his noise had woken you up from your sleep.

You motioned for him to enter first since you still needed to take your home key out. As he approached the interior end of your apartment, he beamed brightly at you. Donghyuck, who has lost control of himself due to the wave of relief he was feeling, brought himself to give you a short hug of gratitude. His arms had wrapped tightly over your shoulders. You froze at the contact.

“Shit, sorry,” he muttered. He took a few steps back and smiled sheepishly at you, “W-where should I put my stuff?”

Still in shock from contact with Donghyuck, you couldn’t answer or think straight. You waddled to your kitchen counter and dropped your bags after you had closed and locked the door, “There’s a room down the… hall and to the right. That’s the extra room.”

“Thanks.” He smiled again and you were genuinely taken aback by how this boy, who was usually obnoxious and annoying, was acting. You blinked back at him and watched as he disappeared the deeper he had gone down the hall.

His duality was scary. It was unpredictable. It was the reason why you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

iii.

When Donghyuck said he’d follow your rules, you didn’t have any hopes in him actually following them. You knew how Donghyuck was. He’d lie to someone in order to get something he’d want in return. And this is one of those occasions.

Donghyuck gladly followed your ‘boundaries’ rule which at first seemed a bit rude as he didn’t even greet you in the mornings or evenings. You were letting him stay with you and you figured that that was probably better than nothing. After a bit of thinking, avoiding convos with Donghyuck would probably be a lot better than bickering that would probably wear you out over the period of his stay.

The only time these said ‘avoided’ convos would happen would be when Donghyuck couldn’t find the appropriate time to make noise and he would not listen when you told him to shut up. It was like you were practically babysitting a toddler, maybe even six of them, and they all would not listen to you.

It wasn’t often that you would physically go to the guest bedroom to tell him to shut up. Usually, you’d be the bigger person and try to mind your own business, but when you remembered that this was your home and not his, you decided to actually put a stop to it before you lost it.

You knocked twice on the door, hearing Donghyuck’s reply not even a moment after, “Come in!” He goes back to yelling at whoever he was playing with on the phone. When you had actually entered, you found him slumped against the headboard, headphones sitting ungracefully on his head.

“Can you… quiet down?” You put on a customer service-esque voice, “Please.”

Donghyuck didn’t let his eyes leave his screen, fingers going crazy on it’s touchscreen, “Nope.” You scowled at him, brows furrowing at the audacity this boy had.

“It’s almost one in the morning,” you pointed out.

“Didn’t know you were some kind of human clock,” he mumbled. The majority of his attention was still pinned on the screen, eyes darting towards you to see if you had gone and left the room.

You feel the expression on your face intensify. Walking up to the side of the bed, you grabbed his phone.

“What the hell?” He sat up and grabbed his phone back from you, “I’m not even that loud, quit being sensitive.” He quickly finished his game and shut his phone off, focusing on this situation with you.

“How about I kick you out by tomorrow morning?” you say as if you were bargaining. You knew that this was one way to get Donghyuck to shut the fuck up. Judging by how desperate he was before, you knew he had no other choice but to listen to you.

At this mention, he shut his mouth and frowned, “The fuck? Just because this once?”

“Quit being sensitive,” you mocked, “If you wanna stay in this room until your apartment is finished, you really need to watch how loud you’re being.” Seeing how much Donghyuck’s mood changed, you smirked. It worked.

“Fine…” He retorted, “Whatever.”

You huffed and turned to leave, the smirk reappearing on your face.

Y/N: 1

Donghyuck: 0

-

Leaving the apartment to Donghyuck for a weekend wasn’t something that you were quite in favour of. You, along with Yeji and Lia, had planned an entire weekend trip for the long weekend, and of course you were excited for it, but that was when Donghyuck’s apartment was still intact. Now that you knew we were leaving your beloved haven with Donghyuck, you were hesitant to actually go on said trip. But (no) thanks to Lia, she convinced you to come after hours of persuasion.

Upon returning, your heart dropped at the idea that Donghyuck might’ve burnt down your own apartment as well. But seeing that the door was still standing, you feel a slight wave of relief wash over.

“Thank goodness,” you mumbled.

Slowly, you unlocked your door and nudged it open. That was when you knew you had spoken too soon. What once was your nice and cozy, neat home had turned into some kind of new rat’s hole. It wasn’t too messy, but it just wasn’t something you were used to nor expecting. The coffee was filled with used dishes, the carpet had bits of crumbs everywhere, wrappers scattered on your previous couch, and the kitchen was littered with groceries that weren’t put back in its place. What made everything else worse was that you could hear Donghyuck yelling in the back, playing games instead of cleaning up his mess.

“Son of a bitch.”

You dropped your bags and made a beeline to the guest room, opening it without knocking, “The fucking audacity you have, Lee Donghyuck.”

“There’s something called knocking,” he scoffed.

“Clean my apartment,” you ordered, “I left this place clean.” You were fuming. This was the main reason why you didn’t want to leave, “I’m letting you stay here, as a guest, and you choose to treat it like it’s your own house. At least clean up after yourself.”

“I was, I just thought you were coming back tomorrow, not today,” he shrugged. Donghyuck redirected his focus to his phone, corner of his mouth angling up.

“Lee Donghyuck I swear if you’re starting another game, I’m kicking you out,” you warned. It was the same reason as before, only this time you were dead serious. This time you weren’t treating it as some sort of way to control him.

“If that’s what you want,” he stands up and bows, “Madame.” Donghyuck walks around you, hands in his pockets as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. He knows he’s pissing you off and he’s enjoying it. What the hell is wrong with him?

You leave his room and grab your bags before dragging yourself into your room. Two strikes… three and he’s out.

-

You believed that home cooked meals were a lot more healthier than most of the affordable food you could get when you eat out. Which is why you opted to cook your own meals for half or possibly more than half of the week. Though they were often just simple recipes either your mom had taught you or ones you’ve seen on tv or youtube, you still took a lot of pride in those meals.

Trekking into the kitchen, you scrolled through the many possible recipes you could complete on your phone, mentally noting the ingredients. You pulled open the fridge, rummaging through its contents trying to find the specific items, which you clearly remembered you bought not even a week ago. Muttering underneath your breath, your mind wanders over to the other living being in your home. There was no way that those groceries could have magically disappeared, not in this universe at least.

Closing the fridge, you make your way to the pantry, still puzzled on the missing groceries, “I swear I bought a whole pack just last weekend.” But after scavenging the pantry, none of the ingredients you needed were sitting there waiting to be used.

“Lee Donghyuck!” you called.

Said boy appeared in the kitchen moments later, posture reflecting the fact that he did not want to be there, “What do you want now?” It was like you were living with a teenager.

“Did you eat all the food I bought?” usually you wouldn’t just accuse one of something, but knowing you hadn’t touched those groceries, Donghyuck was the only possible culprit for the missing food.

“Yes, and?”

“You do know those groceries were for our meals, right?” You walked past him and crouched down to the snack cabinet, opening it, “This is literally empty! Those were all my snacks! Who said you could eat whatever was in there?”

“I was hungry? I’m a guest, I should be able to do so.”

You wonder why Donghyuck would even be acting like he was if he knew that a place to stay was at stake, “You’re a guest, but not like that…” Again you change locations, “Where the hell are your manners? You sure as hell know that I hesitated letting you live with me and you choose to test me almost every other day! A one year old toddler knows better than you! Dumb shit, why did I even agree to you staying here?”

“One year olds can’t even complete an entire sentence,” he jokingly argued, “Isn’t that a bit too far?”

“Me? Too far? You’re taking it too far! You have no idea when to stop being immature!” The volume in your voice was increasing, “You’re twenty fucking years old, Donghyuck. You should be able to know when it’s good and when it’s bad to mess around.”

Simultaneously, he stands up and gives you an expression of hurt and anger, all in one. You could tell that you’ve actually, for once, offended him just by the look in his eyes. He muttered something underneath his breath before he started walking towards your door. Swiftly, he unlocked it, slipping out and shutting it without another peep.

Stunned, you blinked at the door, confused as to what had just happened. The silence that replaced the prior argument seemed to be louder than the argument itself… and you didn’t like that.

You leaned against the kitchen counter and sighed. Where would he go? He didn’t have another place to stay and he left basically all his stuff in his room. Where would he go?

You dismissed the feelings of worry and guilt, shaking it all off before you locked the door and made your way to your room. You lost your appetite. You’ll just eat later.

In between your songs, the banging at your door caused your heart rate to escalate. You rolled over in your bed, almost falling off and straight onto your face, and ran to the door, not even thinking of looking through the peephole. Right as you threw the door open, Donghyuck pushed past you and straight to the kitchen.

“Donghyuck?” It was then you noticed he was holding bags of groceries, both of his hands white from the weight. He put them down softly beside the kitchen counter, stretching his back from relief.

“Fuck the grocery store and not letting me take the cart home,” he rested his upper body on the counter and took a quick breather, as if he had ran a 12k marathon.

“What is all this?” It was obviously clear to you what it was; bags filled with groceries, most of which were the ones he used up. The question was more specifically directed towards him and his sudden act of kindness.

“Groceries,” he replied. Even when exhausted, Donghyuck’s wit outshone.

“Well no shit…” you say, “I mean why.”

“I… thought about what you said,” he exhaled deeply. Donghyuck was irritated at how he was letting you win, “And you’re right. I’ve been acting like a dumbass. Especially since you’re letting me stay here.” To avoid the awkward eye contact, he decided to start sorting out the groceries, “I’m… really sorry. It didn’t occur to me how I was acting. From now on, I’ll actually act my age to make it up to you. I’ll act like a proper guest.”

You feel a small smile creep up onto your lips, “Donghyuck?” He hummed. “I forgive you.” You paused for a moment, “And I’m sorry for earlier… my emotions took control of me. I couldn’t hold myself back.” He chuckles lightly, turning to you, “It’s okay, it’s understandable…” He hears his own stomach growl. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you make dinner now? I’m starving.”

iv.

You glared at Donghyuck at the corner of your eyes as it sounded like he was purposely turning up the volume of his game. The background music, character voices, weapons slashing, and shooting, they all started to drown out the show you decided to put on the tv. You decided not to point it out at first because of a goal you had made to not seem like such a buzzkill all the time.

“This is the best weapon in the game,” he grinned proudly, “It’s my baby. My pride and joy.” The tv screen in front of you was suddenly blocked by Donghyuck’s phone screen. At the same time, the couch had dipped down slightly as he shifted over to you. He held the device there for longer than you cared, hand shaking as seconds passed. It almost made you laugh.

“Mmhmm,” you hum monotony, trying your best to keep your eyes on the screen, “That’s really cool.”

Donghyuck sat back in his spot, “You know I’m not stupid enough to not hear the sarcasm in your voice.” He tapped a few buttons to join the queue of the game.

“I know… I just don’t care,” you finally turned to face him, “Why don’t you just play that in your room? I’m trying to watch and all I hear are shooting sounds.” And at that you turned the volume up by two.

“It’s… quiet in my room,” he says quietly, “I’ll just turn my volume down.” Staying with you had caused Donghyuck to realize how lonely it actually was just staying in a single room the entire night with his eyes not leaving the screen. He figured that maybe, when you were planted on the couch, he’d hang around you for a nice change.

Keeping your gaze forward. Though it was hopefully not obvious on the outside, you were thrown off by  Donghyuck’s compliance. Turning ever-so-slightly, you peered at the boy. His head was bowed in order to look at his phone screen but, even so, you could see the tip of his tongue peek out between his lips. He looked so focused that you almost laughed out loud. Never did you think that a boy as garish as Hyuck would ever reach a state like that. He looked… cute.

You forced your eyes back to the television and knocked the thought out of your head like with a mental baseball bat. There’s no way you just thought that Donghyuck was cute. No way.

-

It hadn’t occurred to Donghyuck that you weren’t awake to leave in time for the bus until he already turned the front door’s knob halfway and his eyes had fallen on the only pair of shoes you would wear. He let go of the doorknob and kicked his own sneakers off of his feet, letting out a low groan only for him to hear. He knows that you probably worked on school work until late, which he found stupid since you could not, for the life of you, wake up later on to go to school.

Donghyuck knocked twice and waited for a reply, letting himself in when he hadn’t heard one. He snuck his head through the gap he made and set his eyes on your bed. He snorted at the sight of your passed out figure, leg sticking out from underneath the blanket and hanging off of your bed. Your mouth was wide open, freely giving flies a good place to hang out. Your textbooks and notes were scattered at the foot of your bed, your other foot leaving creases in them.

“Y/N, wake up you’re late,” he shook your shoulder, bending down a tad bit closer, “Wake up!”

Groaning, you shifted and grabbed his hand from your shoulder to push it away, “Donghyuck, can you please shut the fuck up?” You were unable to open your eyelids and your throat was still dry. Donghyuck continued to force his hand to your shoulder to shake you again, but you countered it with your own elbow strength.

“Hey the bus comes in a few minutes and you’re barely awake,” Donghyuck noted, “Hey wake up.”

For some reason, you hadn’t processed what he was saying. You genuinely believed he was only in there to irritate you at such an early hour. Refusing to retract his elbow, he applied a bit more pressure down onto you.

“Stop it!” you blindly swung an arm at his inner elbow which caused it to bend at contact. Donghyuck fell forward and onto you, all of it happening so fast that he couldn’t save himself. His face was only inches from yours, though you hadn’t noticed until your eyes had shot open from the sudden realization of the collision. The both of you laid there for a brief moment, staring at each other with wide eyes. It was all purely out of shock, like deer in headlights.

When you had processed it all, you rolled over, “Get out of my room!” It was then that you were suddenly aware of the situation. Classes started in less than an hour, the bus leaves in two minutes, and you were still not dressed. Curse the psychology homework you left until last minute.

Donghyuck pushes himself up, “I’m only here to help you!” He argued, “You know what? Why did I even try? I should’ve just left you here and let you miss your classes.” And at that, Donghyuck turned and exited your room, leaving your door open.

He jogged out of the apartment, slipping his nikes on as if they were crocs, creasing them carelessly. If you were the reason why he could be late, he wouldn’t know how he’d react. He just knew that he wouldn’t want that.

Donghyuck was just in time for the bus, greeting the driver quickly before finding a place to sit on the bus. He placed himself near the back at a window seat, leaning his head against the glass after he finally took the time to tuck his heels properly into his shoes. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His heart was beating faster than normal, adrenaline running through his body, only he wasn’t sure if it was from the thought of being late to class or because of what just happened between him and you.

-

You always set aside Friday nights for self care and movie nights. You’d put on a cheap drugstore face mask, dump a whole bag of your favourite chips into a bowl, pour yourself a cold drink, and pick out whatever movie that looked appealing. It was rather an ordinary routine, but you liked to think of it as something special.

Resting against the couch, you decided to pull up To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, hoping to watch the first and second movie even though you already watched both when they were initially released.

“Hey Y/N, have you– oh hey, it’s that Noah dude that’s in every Netflix movie,” Donghyuck has emerged from his room, the first time since you both arrived from school. He leaned over the back of the couch and took in whatever scene was playing on the screen, “What are you watching?”

You turn around, face covered in an unnatural shade of purple, making Donghyuck jump a bit, “To all the boys I’ve loved before.”

“That sounds really dumb,” he snorted, but nonetheless he sits down on the cushion next to you.

You questioned his actions, glaring at him, “If you think it’s stupid, why does it look like you’re here to watch it.”

“I have nothing better to do. None of my friends are online,” he shrugged. Reaching over, he grabs a can of pop from the coffee table, snapping it open before taking a purposefully loud sip, “So why not?”

“I’ll only let you watch if you shut up,” you turn the volume up by one, “Okay?” He nods understandingly as he mirrors your resting figure on the couch. After what seemed like five minutes, he stretches his arm out to grab a handful of chips before throwing them all into his mouth at once.

“So… he’s only pretending to date her to make the blonde girl jealous?” It was astonishing to you how you actually understood everything he said through his mouth full of chips. He didn’t even try speaking loudly either.

“Basically,” you hummed in response.

“Does it work though?” He questioned after swallowing.

“Shhh, Donghyuck, just watch,” you flick his knee, directing an unamused look at his direction, “You’ll see.”

For a good portion of the movie, Donghyuck chose to keep comments to himself. Every time he would want to say something, he’d hold himself back, silently reacting to the rather dramatic parts of the film. It was admittedly a cute movie. He hadn’t seen anything like it in a while.

“Wait! It’s just a misunderstanding!” Donghyuck gasped. His legs were crossed underneath him, eyes planted semi-permanently on the screen, “She took that scrunched from him! He didn’t give it to her! Just when everything seemed fine.” You snickered at how into the movie he was. You didn’t react like he was when you first watched the movie.

“It’s so obvious that Gen did it,” He muttered, “Who the hell else would do it? She’s jealous as hell. Can she stop please?” From the corner of your eye, you could see that Donghyuck was close to throwing one of your throw pillows.

“I mean, at least Peter’s plan worked,” you responded quietly, sinking back into the couch, “It’s just that now it doesn’t really matter if it worked or not.”

“She’s acting like they’re still a thing,” Donghyuck scoffed, “They’re not.” He was one hundred percent for Lara Jean and Peter and it was actually pretty amusing in a cute way. But you weren’t saying that out loud, you’ll gladly keep it to yourself.

The movie slowly came to the end, wrapping up like it did in the books. “Why does she walk like that though,” he laughed, “Who walks like that normally?” He lays back against the couch and grins, “That was actually a good film…”

He was so immersed in the film that he hadn’t noticed that you had fallen asleep by the end, head falling in a strange way against the armrest of the couch. The way your chest had risen and fallen in such a calm and constant rhythm indicated to Donghyuck that you were having a good slumber. He didn’t want to wake you up. Not when you seemed so peaceful.

His eyes shifted to the thin blanket you already brought with you, clutched in your hand, then back to your face. He couldn’t help but trace your features with his eyes. There was no other time that he would be able to do this. When you were awake, you were too aware about everything he did, or what went on around you, but in this state, you were the complete opposite. He smiled softly at your serene figure, quickly shaking his head at the sudden change in image you had created in his head for that brief moment. As if it was something he’d do often, he easily laid your blanket over you, making sure it covered you chest down. I just need sleep, he thought, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

v.

Mutualistic (symbiotic) relationships in nature worked as so: both organisms in the relationship would both completely benefit from the other. It was funny to think that such relationships were always so dynamic. Who would have thought that an animal as large as a crocodile would benefit from a bird as tiny as the plover. It was interesting how it worked like that.

As weeks had passed with Donghyuck still living in your guest room, the both of you had noticed that having each other as temporary roommates actually wasn’t that bad. A parasitic relationship had slowly evolved into a mutual one and you wondered if something like this could actually happen out in nature.

You noted this shift when Donghyuck had arrived home from a study group with bags filled with groceries. Sure it wasn’t the first time he’d taken the action to do so, knowing how much you struggled with carrying bags home, but this time was different.

It was nothing drastic or overly significant, but it was something that caught your eye immediately and you couldn’t help feel your chest warm up a bit. Donghyuck had bought all of your favourite snacks and candies. Even the ones you couldn’t usually find in the grocery store you’d usually shop at. They were all bunched into one separate bag, indicating that this was in no case a coincidence. And at that thought you smiled and looked up at him, only he didn’t catch you looking. He was far too busy sorting the rest of the groceries into their respective spots.

“Thanks Donghyuck,” you say, quietly. Though it sounded like you were thanking him for doing another round of grocery shopping, this time, it was directed more towards his little deed.

“It’s no problem,” he offered a tight lipped smile before scrunching the bags into messy balls, stuffing them into a small bin with others. He turned back to the counter, realizing that he hadn’t unpacked the bag filled with your favourites, “You can do those right?” It wasn’t like he couldn’t do them himself. It was just that those were all meant for you.

You nodded, “Did you do this on purpose?” You started to take the snacks out of the bag, “These are my favourites.”

Donghyuck’s eyes widened out of panic of being exposed but you weren’t aware of his mood change as he quickly fixed his composure, “No? I mean… they just looked good so I got them.”

He was lying and you knew, “Mmhmm… that grocery store I shop at doesn’t even sell these.” You held up a flavourful bag of gummy bears.

“I passed by a corner store and got them.” Lying again. But this time you just hummed.

“Whatever you say, Hyuck.” The nickname had slipped out of your mouth so naturally that you didn’t catch yourself saying it. Donghyuck was obviously thrown off by the name, feeling his heart skip a beat for the second time in five minutes, “Thank you.”

He scoffed, trying to tap back into his usual self, “For buying food for me? Ah, you’re welcome.” Before you could say anything else, he rushed to his room, making up some lame excuse just to get out of the conversation.

It was funny because that wasn’t the last time he bought your favourites.

Donghyuck noticed this shift himself when he came home one day with his clothes neatly folded on his bed. The last time he’s seen his clothes, they were all piled at the corner of the room, dirty with sweat or generally smelling like it’s been soaking up the sun.

He dropped his bag by the room’s door, curiosity taking hold of him as he walked up to the folded clothes. They were clean. He smiled, sorting them out so they were organized the way he wanted them to be.

He could recall how he had told you he had no time to do laundry. From school and extra shifts at work, he was growing frustrated with everything that’s been piling up, finding no time to take care of himself at home. He had been re-wearing the clothes that seemed clean enough just to get through his day.

Leaving his room with a bit of pep in his step, he enters the kitchen where you had been working on some assignment. You didn’t look up, even with the hint of his presence, too indulged in your work.

“Y/N,” He strayed towards the dishwasher, grabbing a cup as if he was only there to grab water. Glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, waiting for your reply.

“What, Donghyuck?” you muttered. You weren’t trying to come off as rude but you didn’t want to lose the focus you had built up in the last 30 minutes. You typed away, ears perked up in order to hear the nonsense that could be coming out his mouth any second now.

“Thanks for doing my laundry,” he says sincerely. He chugged down the water that he poured into his glass and quickly washed the cup, “It doesn’t seem like a lot but it truly is.”

You finally look up at him, fingers pausing abruptly. Your eyebrows were raised, shocked at the tone in Donghyuck’s voice, “It’s no problem. I know that you’ve been busy. And you still buy groceries even when you’re running low on time.” And it was true. In a way it was your only way of giving back aside from letting him stay at your place.

Donghyuck couldn’t do anything but smile. He bowed his head slightly to reply wordlessly to you before retreating back slowly to his room.

-

Your thumb switched between the right arrow button and the down arrow button, scrolling through the selection of movies shown on the screen. The past half an hour, you had been trying to settle with a film that suited your mood, but since the movies seem quite uninteresting, time was being wasted.

Mentally, you kept a list of movies that stood out more than others, only not finally deciding because you opted to choose more options. The third Harry Potter film was among those, and honestly, looking at the rest of the movies, you really were leaning towards rewatching it instead of taking a risk and watching a one star film.

Double checking if you had everything you needed, you pressed a button to start it, the warner bros logo appearing after a dark screen. There was a hint of background music playing and a house appears after the logo. Then, you hear a door open and close, followed by light footsteps. You sit unbothered, already knowing what was about to happen.

“Oh, a movie?” Donghyuck’s voice bounced around the room and over the movie’s soundtrack, “I didn’t know you were watching a movie.” His footsteps grew softer indicating that he was on his way to the kitchen just a few feet from the couch. You stifle a laugh and shake your head slightly. Of course. It wasn’t the first time Donghyuck had coincidentally walked in right when you started a movie. It happened last week and the night ended up with him sleeping with the lights on. You knew that he started to like these unspoken movie nights. And you did too.

You keep quiet as you preferred to listen to the film than reply to the curious boy, already knowing he was getting ready to take his usual seat next to you.

“Is this Harry Potter?” And as you predicted, the right side of the couch dips down slightly under Donghyuck’s weight. He sets down his own cup of pop and a movie snack in front of him.

“Yeah, the third one,” you blinked at the screen, “It’s probably my favourite one.”

“I’ve only seen the first one,” he states, “So you have to catch me up a bit.”

You sighed, “It’s okay, it’s easy to understand.”

Donghyuck takes a slight glance in your direction. You were slumped, cross legged, underneath your blanket, bag of chips sitting on your lap and a can of pop in your left hand. You looked cuddly. You didn’t know it. And Donghyuck didn’t know this until he had the sudden urge to scoot over to your side in order to feel completely comfortable.

Subtly, Donghyuck shifts his weight from one side to the other, crossing his legs. His knee sat rather closely to yours. A part of him did it on purpose, leaving the rest stunned at the close interaction. You didn’t move away, mostly because your knee was covered with your blanket. You couldn’t tell the difference between the blanket and Donghyuck’s knee.

Again he took a peek at you unconsciously, brain and muscle control seemingly working separately. He admitted it to himself he liked these movie nights. Even if you both unspokenly only had three. It was different from how he’d usually spend nights alone. It was a good different.

His phone buzzed, Jeno’s name popping up on the screen: Sick again? Feel better :)

Quickly unlocking his phone, he had texted back a ‘thanks Jeno’ before setting it back down in the crack of the couch. He had declined an invite from Jeno to go see a movie in the theatres in an hour, but the idea of spending the night just on the couch seemed much more appealing than having to go out and get ready to do the same thing.

One more time, in the corner of his eye he took in your figure. Whether he stayed home because he was too lazy to get ready or because he secretly wanted to spend time with you… we’ll never know.

vi.

“Thank you so much for the update.”

You had walked in after an energy draining shift to Donghyuck getting off the phone. The way he smiled caused him to embody happiness, radiating sunshine as he beamed at you.

“You look fucking stupid,” you say to break the silence creeping up on both of you. In reality he didn’t look stupid, he looked like a cute little kid being told news he was going on a fun family trip.

“My apartment’s done in a week!” He did a small dance to express what he was feeling, his smile not faltering one bit.

Your heart dropped a bit, the feeling of disappointment overtaking it. You brushed it aside, “That’s great to hear! Now I can kick you out for good.” You let out a small laugh to indicate it was a harmless joke before you make your way to your room, this conversation being something you want to avoid.

You had grown used to Donghyuck. His noise, his presence on the Friday movie nights, the never-empty fridge and pantry due to his constant visits to the grocery store. It was weird thinking that that’d be all gone by next week. You would have never thought you’d want him to stay…?

The hell? I want him to stay?

You flicked your own forehead before shaking it as if water had gone into your ear. You shake it to get rid of those thoughts you were ever so scared of confronting.

You sat down on your bed and sighed. Funny how over a month ago you strongly yearned for Donghyuck to leave. You wanted nothing to do with him, threatening to kick him out everytime he ever so slightly crossed the line. But now, you wouldn’t think twice seeing the boy passed out on the couch. You wouldn’t mind him taking up time in the washroom or yelling at ungodly hours at night. It was clear that he had grown on you. And instead of being thrilled that you’d get your apartment back to yourself, you were secretly hoping that time would move a bit slower just so Donghyuck wouldn’t move back any sooner.

Donghyuck made his way back to the guest room, a bittersweet feeling lingering in his chest. The news he had just gotten was great. It was information he had been waiting for for the past few weeks. But he had such a good time staying with you… he wondered if your guys’ relationship would be the same as it is now when he does move back. It’s not like he was leaving the city. He was literally only moving a floor up. If you both stood directly in the same spot in your apartments, you would be closer to each other than you would be staying in the same apartment and different rooms.

Would it be weird to ask you if you would still be friends? Maybe a little bit. But if Donghyuck had to do it, to ensure the growing worry in himself, then he’d do it.

-

Symbiotic relationships were easy to understand. It was grade seven level science after all. But something that wasn’t as simple to understand was the fact that you were actually going to miss Lee Donghyuck once he moved back to his apartment.

There was still that little voice inside of you that was telling you to quit it. That he was moving back tomorrow and after he does move, you probably won’t even have the same relationship as now. It was better to cut those arising feelings short before they actually endure.

Donghyuck has been spending a bit less time in your apartment and in his, making sure everything was good to go once he returned to his man hole. You could hear his voice through the ceiling. It honestly sucked because you wanted to spend the last week just spending time with him.

“How’s everything going?” You questioned as he appeared through the front door. You were on your way to your room, notebook and laptop sitting snugly in your arms. The time was drawing close to eleven and you could feel the residence of the apartment building all going to sleep. You figured it was time for you to go to bed too.

“Almost set,” he replied quietly, “I can finish them tomorrow.” A silence hung in the air as you tapped your fingertips against the edge of your laptop.

“That’s good.” Though it wasn’t obvious to Donghyuck, you had tried to force the content tone blanketing over the mixed emotions, “Well goodnight… will I still you tomorrow?”

You remembered Donghyuck saying he was moving back early morning, but knowing him and his habits, it would probably be postponed till midday.

“Maybe,” he laughed softly, “Maybe not.”

You let a laugh similar to his before backing into your room and shutting the door. Sighing heavily, you dragged yourself to your desk and set your things down. Maybe you should wake up early just to say goodbye.

Donghyuck smiles at your door, before calling it a night himself. Tomorrow he was moving back and tomorrow he wanted to tell you something. Maybe.

-

Surprisingly, Donghyuck had woken up before his alarm which was set to go off at nine in the morning. He sighs and blinks at his door a couple of times before getting up and making the bed, wanting it to look presentable for when you come in to clean it.

After he had followed his usual routine, changing into day clothes, brushing his teeth, washing his face, and fixing his hair, he set his backpack down beside the door beside his shoes. He stood there for a moment, resting his hands on his hips and huffed. Within his chest he could feel that same bittersweet feeling he felt about a week ago when he was told his apartment was finished.

Unconsciously, he turned back towards the hallway and stood in front of your room. Is Y/N sleeping? He questioned himself. Probably, he countered. Though his head was telling him to not bother you, his body had decided that it was a great idea to knock, not once but twice.

“Come in.” Unexpectedly, you had replied, voice sounding like you had been awake for a while. And the truth was, you had been awake since eight, unable to go out and face Donghyuck.

“Can I talk to you?” Donghyuck’s head was barely pushed through the crack he had made, door hiding anything below his eyes.

You were partly laying down in your bed, phone in hand. Sitting up, you nodded, “Yeah of course, what’s up?” You watched Donghyuck swing the door so that his entire body was visible. He had a sheepish smile on his face, eyes unable to sit on you as he glanced around your room.

“I just wanted to say thank you for letting me stay here,” he says seriously, finally bringing himself to look at you, “I really do owe you shit… I owe you so much. So if you need me, then I’ll do anything.”

You couldn’t help but feel the inside of your chest warm up to your temporary roommate. A smile crept up onto your face and you nodded, “I got to be honest, you already know this, but I really didn’t want you staying with me… but I guess it wasn’t that bad at the end. No problem.”

He bows his head gently and turns to leave, only stopping to turn around again, “Oh by the way, I don’t think you’ll hear me causing a ruckus for a bit because I still need to save up for new equipment.”

You laughed and joked, “Sounds good to me.”

“Bye Y/N.” Donghyuck licks his eyes with yours for a prolonged moment, sparkling in yours. Your stomach bursts with butterflies, feeling yourself squeal internally at this type of contact.

“Bye Hyuck.” And at that he leaves.

You were engulfed with a heavy feeling that you weren’t usually familiar with when it came to Donghyuck. Often you’d know if it were hate or annoyance or amusement. But this was different. The flame in your chest was growing stronger and this time you really couldn’t ignore it. You cringe at the butterflies in your stomach that were alive than never before.

Once you heard the door to your apartment close, that was when you finally gave in to that feeling that started to grow slowly and subtly without your knowledge.

You liked Donghyuck… you really liked Donghyuck and there obviously was no running from it now.

Donghyuck enters his apartment and is immediately greeted with silence. Though he’s only stayed at your apartment for about a month, he without a doubt had grown to get used to your presence greeting him at the door. It was just weird now. He should’ve asked you to help him sort his new furniture. Then he could be around you longer for a good reason and that could give him a chance to actually ask you if you guys could still be friends.

He loved your presence. He loved the movie nights you both had and the short yet amusing banters. You two actually complimented each other well despite the fact that at first you two seemed to be polar opposites… but that was it, you guys were opposites but that was why you both went well together. He loved the friendship that you guys had managed to muster up within a month.

Involuntarily, Donghyuck shakes his head at the thought of being just friends. A friendship was far different from what he wanted. And at that conclusion, he made up his mind. He liked you, maybe closer to love than like. He wanted more, and it took him this long to finally admit it.

At that second, someone knocked on his door twice, his head snapping towards that direction. He feels the beat of his heart quicken in pace as he approaches it slowly. Answering it, he remembers when you were there about aa month ago just to tell him off. Donghyuck laughs, “Y/N? Missed me already?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Shut up Hyuck… you know how you owe me?” He nods, unable to predict  what was coming up next.

“Well how about you take me out to dinner…” You cringed at how you worded that. It sounded like you were demanding it. This mistake caused you to back up a bit sheepishly.

Donghyuck smiles at your cute behaviour, stepping forward to keep the distance the same, “Like a date?”  It was your turn to nod.

“Then I would love to.”

#fullsunnet #repost bc tumblr is annoying rn #haechan #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #lee donghyuck #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #my nct writings #my writings #nct imagines #nct 127 #jaemin nct dream #nct donghyuck #nct haechan #donghyuck imagines #Donghyuck scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop #nct scenarios #nct u jungwoo #donghyuck #lee haechan

[calmsweetcreature]

Fraternizing

A/N: Here’s my first Mikey Fic!! Lemme know the kinds of fics you want to see for the boys and I’ll make a start, I’m thinking a Luke Fic next so lemme know!

Warnings: Angst/Smut/Fluff

Word count: 5.4K

The party was heaving with bodies everywhere and as I squeezed my way through to the kitchen a hand came down hard on my shoulder.

“It’s the little mouse, what are you doing here?” Johnny Macintosh was a real piece of work, he was one of the most well known frat guys on campus - namely for how he treated women and how much beer he could put away at parties. “Always thought you were too square for parties like this, did you get lost on the way to the library?” His words were a wet whisper against my ear that made me shiver with how uncomfortable I felt. I shrugged his hand off my shoulder and walked through the gyrating bodies towards the kitchen, until again a hand came down onto my shoulder and I spun around to give Johnny a piece of my mind only to be met with my roommate and best friend Julia.

“Hey Y/N I found you! You having fun?” her words were slurred, and as she raised a red plastic cup to her lips a body crashed into her from behind sending a cherry red drink all down my white top.

“Oh s-shit, Y/N I’m sorry!” Julia reaches for my top and I push her hand away. Her heart was always in the right place but Julia always took the phrase ‘let loose on the weekend’ a bit too seriously. She dragged me out most weekends but it was never long before she left with some guy, not to be seen again until the next day.

“It’s fine, just go and sit for a bit okay? I’ll come find you soon, I’ve got to try and clean this off before it dries!” I pushed my way through and into the kitchen, grabbing some paper towels and wetting them under the faucet, patting the red liquid stains off of my top.

“I bet you regret wearing white to a frat, don’t you?” A lazy drawl came from behind me and I clamped my eyes shut in frustration. Michael-fucking-Clifford.

Me and Michael had been butting heads ever since I had started college, he liked to tease me in everyway possible and I fucking hated him for it.

“You could say that, although I think I regret coming here at all now.” Your words came out more viciously then you had intended and a hand dropped on my shoulder to turn me around.

“Now now Kitten, don’t be like that.” His lips were pouting but there was a twinkle in his eyes that led on to just how mischievous he was being. My eyes narrowed as a growl left my throat at the term of endearment he had so graciously given to me. After hearing Johnny call me mouse for the longest time and listening to me verbally bite Johnny’s ear off every time, Michael had decided that this was no mouse but a Kitten with claws, which is the only thing he had called me since.

“What do you want Michael? I’m not in the mood today.” I keep scrubbing at my top, the cloth not removing the red drink stain but instead adding a large wet patch, making the top see through and revealing the pale pink lace bra underneath. Michael scowls, reaching behind me to grab a towel, patting the top dry.

“You do not want to walk around this house like that Y/N, not with the likes of Johnny here.” His eyes were dark, the dabbing motion of his hand getting slower until his hand is slowly dragging the towel over my chest, the side of his fingers trailing over the swell of my breasts.

“Mouse!” Johnny’s voice is carried from the other side of the room and Michael’s hand moves away so fast it’s like I burnt him.

“We’re starting truth or dare in the other room and I reserved you a seat!” He pushed his way through the kitchen, pushing freshman out of the way until he is stood directly in front of me.

“I’m not interested Johnny.” His eyes go to my top and a dark grin spreads over his face.

“Shame little mouse, I think everyone would like to see more of you.” His eyes linger on my chest for a moment before he saunters off into the crowd. The intensity of his gaze makes me almost fold into myself, and I stare at the ground, wishing it could swallow me up.

“Ignore that guy kitten, he’s a prick,” Michael’s words are hushed but I can hear the anger in them which makes my eyes meet his in the crowded room. It’s like the music and the chatter stops, the only hint of the pounding music is the floor vibrating under my feet. I blink, shaking my head.

“Like you, you mean?” He lets out a snarl at my words and throws the towel he’d been grasping at my chest.

“Go fuck yourself then Little Mouse” He sneers, walking away from me.

“Michael wait!” I call, following after him. I walk into the lounge to see a huge circle of people, Michael going and sitting across the room.

“Changed your mind then mouse? I saved you a spot next to me!” Johnny pats the floor next to him and I can’t help but sigh knowing that I didn’t really have a choice. I timidly sit myself next to Johnny and I can feel Michael’s eyes on me from across the circle.

I keep my eyes low on the floor, my arms across my chest to hide the still slight transparent patch on my top. The game begins and I soon realise this isn’t the same game that I remember from high school. The rules are that all truths must be answered or you must streak across campus but the forfeit for not completing dares were that you must do a double shot of vodka or a line of coke.I was not prepared to do any of those things so I knew I would have to be extra careful.

“Mikey, truth or dare?” One of the girls in the group asked him with a twinkle in her eye as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger. You didn’t want to judge another woman and label her a bimbo but you weren’t totally sure how she got into college - it definitely wasn’t through academic means, you knew that.

“Dare.” His eyes met the girls and she giggled, her eyes blazing from either alcohol or drugs - I couldn’t tell which.

“I dare you to take a body shot off of me.” Michael rolls his eyes but nods, clearly having had enough of this dumb game already. I couldn’t help but frown at the unsteady feeling in my stomach at the thought of watching Michael do something intimate with a random girl. The feeling intensifies when the girl strips off her top leaving her in a bra and skirt - causing all of the boys and a few of the girls in the circle to whoop and holler.

I stare as another girl wets a line leading between the valley between the breasts of the girl (you now knew to be called Lucy) and sprinkle salt across it before pouring a shots worth of tequila in her bellybutton, finishing with a wedge of lemon between Lucy’s teeth.Michael manoeuvres himself until he is leaning over the blonde, his eyes catching mine as his tongue slides across her skin, the eye contact not stopping as he sucks the tequila from her belly button and not even as his mouth hovers over hers to suck up the lemon. There was a darkness in his eyes that I couldn’t ignore and as much as I didn’t always like the man, a shiver was running through my body that was setting me alight.

He sits up throwing the leftover lemon across the room. “I fucking hate tequila.”

Lucy leans up, looking after Michael longingly, “Hey Mich-”

He cuts her off, sitting back in his spot in the circle. “Put your fucking shirt on Lucy.”

A hurt look crosses the girls face and she grabs her clothes, leaving the room.

“Fucking savage bro, you going after her? She’d probably follow you to bed easy” Johnny asks Michael, who shakes his head before taking a long swig of his beer.

A slew of truths and dares go around the group, from being asked to pretend butt-dial parents and fake sex noises to chugging a bottle of ketchup. I was about ready to stand up and leave the game when Johnny pointedly stares at me, pointing in my direction.

“Mouse, truth or dare?” His grin is sickening and I close my eyes, dreading what was to come. Before I can open my mouth to answer he interrupts me. “You’re taking too long, you get a dare.”

“Johnny that’s not fair, I-” He cuts me off again.

“New rule little mouse, dare it is.” Chuckles go around the room and I cringe a little, suddenly realising how much of the group is made up of Johnny’s minions. From the corner of my eye I see Michael roll his eyes and that makes me sit up straighter, thinking that he’s judging me for being a whimp.

“Fine, bring it.” I falsify confidence, hoping no one can recognise the nerves on my face. I’m not supposed to be here, I’m the quiet girl who doesn’t spend time in frats - this game being one of the reasons why.

Johnny strokes his face as if thinking before he smirks, leaning back against the couch he is sat in front of.

“You have to sit on my lap. And kiss me.” All of the guys in the circle crack up apart from Michael who pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. The girls glare at me jealousy and I stare at Johnny incredulously.

“Johnny what the fuck?” I stare at him in shock and he grins, a sly laugh leaving his lips.

“I could always cut you a line princess. Your choice.” I stare at the ground, sighing before moving, sitting on Johnny’s lap as close to his knees as I can get without falling off him.

“You didn’t say how long for so thirty seconds is your limit.” I keep my words pointed and he rolls his eyes but nods nonetheless.

The group cheers as he puts his hand on the back of my head, pulling me in and kissing me. Now - as much as I didn’t like the guy, I had to admit he could kiss. His tongue slides across my bottom lip and I don’t let him in, that is until he pinches the skin of my thigh and I gasp, his tongue entering my mouth and wrestling with my own.I count to thirty in my head before I move my head back, but his hand clasps my head and keeps me in place as his other hand goes to the bottom of my back, pushing me further into his lap. I put my hands on his chest and push but to no avail, I breathe deeply through my nose pushing against him as hard as I can.

While most of his friends start laughing I can hear some of his friends calling his name.

“Johnny man, it’s time.”

“Uh dude you should probably stop now.”

“Get your hands the fuck off her Coleman.” I can hear Michael’s voice over the rest and I push with both hands at Johnny’s chest. His hands move to my shirt as he pulls away breathing heavy. I hear a ripping noise before I feel myself getting pulled off of his lap as I’m pushed behind a tall body. I look down at my ripped shirt, my lace bra out in the open, I push my front against the tall boy in front of me that I now realise is Michael as I catch my breath.

“Awh Mouse I was enjoying that.” Johnny wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why’d you ruin my fun Clifford, want a taste?”

Michael tenses in front of me and I put a hand on his back, stroking my thumb until I feel his body relax slightly. I couldn’t even tell what the dynamic was between us in this moment but all I knew was I felt safe behind him.

“No man, I'm good.” Johnny smirks at his words but the smile drops from his lips when Michael utters “I like my women when they’re willing.”

Johnny stands up, his chest puffing out. “Fuck you man. Hey mouse, don’t panic - you’re a shit kisser anyway, thought your tits would make up for it but they’re shit too.”

Michael takes a step forward and I put an arm around his waist, “Michael leave it, please.”

He stills, his arm resting on top of mine before he growls under his breath, turning to leave the room with me trailing behind him.

“Michael it’s fine, I’ll just go back to my room.” He leads me up the stairs, his hand holding mine as we walk through the house.

“Y/N there is no way in hell you’re walking back through campus with that rip in your shirt. I’m getting you another shirt and then I’ll walk you back.” He pulls you through a door with a ‘KEEP OUT’ sign across the front, you bite your lip as you take in the decor. Black bedding adorns the bed, a grey rug on the floor with a wall of guitars and band posters everywhere.

“Nice room.” You murmur, picking up a photo from a cabinet and observing the picture where Michael has his arms around three other guys.

“That’s my best friends - Ash, Cal and Luke. We’re in a band together.” He turns and rummages through a drawer by his bed, looking for a shirt. I run a finger over the photo, tracing over Michael’s grin.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that,” I whisper, thinking about how most of mine and Michael’s conversations had been little bickers.I smile at the photo of the grinning man, laughing with his friends. The darkly dressed, scowling man you’d come to know looked so different.

“Why would you, it’s hard to give you a smile when you’re irritating me all of the damn time.” I turn to look at him when a black ball of fabric hits me in the face. I stumble back, hitting my head on the door and sliding until I’m sat on the floor. A yelp leaves my throat at the sudden fall, but the sound is muffled by the tee.

“Shit!” I pull the shirt from my face to see Michael kneeling in front of me, a concerned look on his face. “Y/N, I didn’t mean for that to happen, are you okay?” His hand goes to the back of my head, and while the touch makes me flinch, I know there’s no lasting damage.

“I’ll probably have a sore head tomorrow but yeah I’m fine.” I laugh softly at the worry on his face and he rolls his eyes, his hand not moving from the back of my head.

I look at the tee and back to Michael. “Liberty’s? You work there?” The dive bar just off of campus was not a place you frequented often, but most of your friends did - if not for the live music then for the rowdy atmosphere that was sure to get your blood pumping.

“Yeah, it’s where my band plays most of the time - I DJ sometimes and Luke and Cal who are in that photo you were drooling over work the bar most night and Ash works the door.” I blush at his words as he stands up, walking over to a mini fridge in the corner and grabbing two beers.

“I was not drooling, don’t be a jackass.” I change into the tee, it swallows me and becomes kind of like a dress on my figure. I grab one of the beers and sit on the edge of his bed awkwardly. “Thanks for the beer?” My words trail off into a question as I look at him, trying to figure out what is going on in this boy’s mind.

“One for the road. That fucking dick downstairs made my buzz disappear.” My fingers play with the hem of the t-shirt, trying to muster up the courage to say what I needed to.

“T-thank you. For what you did downstairs.” I keep my eyes low, not sure whether to say anything more.

“Don’t mention it, you shouldn’t have fucking joined that game, Johnny is a messed up dude who sees you as fruit ripe for the picking.” Michael’s words get angry and I can’t help but watch as he clenches his hand into a fist on his leg before taking a long drink.

“And what do you see me as?” Embarrassment floods through me as I hear a twinge of hope in my words. It’s only now that I’m sitting so close to him that I realise how bright his eyes are, how the stubble on his chin makes him look older then he is and I can’t help but internally shiver as I imagine that stubble grazing my neck.

“I did see you as an annoying spoiled brat who always wanted her own way. I saw you as rude, bitchy and irritating.” His words hurt and it must have been the drink making me that little bit more sensitive because I could feel tears filling my eyes at his words.

I nod softly, setting my beer on the floor. “Don’t worry about walking me back, I’ll be okay.”

I stand from the bed, walking towards the door. I knew that we had always bickered but there was a part of that felt like it was just part of the way we spoke to each other, it was never that I genuinely didn’t like him, but he obviously didn’t feel the same.

“Y/N wait.” I could hear him call after me but I didn’t want to hear more reasons why he didn’t like me. I flew open the door and stepped back out into the booming noise of the party. There were bodies everywhere and the beer was making me feel hazy as a hand clasp my wrist.

“Michael, I-” The room starts spinning when I see Johnny looking down at me, sneering.

“Where’ve you been Mouse? You left me high and dry in front of my boys.” He shakes his head, pushing me against the nearest wall, his arm resting above my head as he towers over my small frame. “You can make it up to me though,”

“No Johnny I was just going home, it was part of the game.” I fake confidence but my voice cracks slightly.

He presses against me, one hand trailing up of Michael’s tshirt, pushing it up slightly. “Awh c’mon Y/N, don’t be so frigid.” His mouth starts lowering towards mine and I turn my head away.

“Johnny, no.” I push against his chest and he tenses, pushing further into me as his mouth connects with my neck. I let out a small cry and push against him more, when suddenly his body is pulled off me and lands with a thud on the floor, another person led over him as punches are thrown at his face.

“She said no. Take no for a fucking answer you fucking creep.” I stand pressed against the wall, my chest heaving as I watch Michael pummel Johnny into the ground.

“Michael get off of him! Mate stop!” Two of the frat boys shout before they come and pull Michael away, leaving Johnny groaning on the floor holding his nose.

I unfreeze as Johnny stands unsteadily, pointing towards me.

“You’ve got fucking problems with this chick man, last week you fucking hated her and now what? You’re defending her honour?” Johnny spits out his words, blood flying from his split lip as he walks towards Michael. “You can fucking have her, she’s a frigid bitch anyway.” He pushes past Michael towards his room, some of his minions following after him.

Michael walks over to you slowly, your eyes on the bloodied knuckles of his hands. He reaches for my hand and I flinch slightly. His eyes get a hurt look in them and goes to move his hand away when I clasp it in mine, gripping it tightly but being careful not to hurt his hand. We look at each other for a moment, silent words passing through our eyes.

“Come back to my room for a minute, please? I just want to talk.” His words are low but pleading and I nod softly. It’s only when he turns that we notice all of the eyes on us. I blush, following after Michael as he drags me softly towards his room, locking the door behind him.

“That’s not to keep you in by the way, you can leave whenever. I just want to keep those assholes out.” I nod softly, holding myself as Michael moves to sit on his bed. “Y/N, kitten, please sit down.” Michael had always used that name to tease me but there was a softness in his words that warmed my heart.

“Firstly you need to know that Johnny won’t bother you again. He’s pretty coked up now but I’ll let him know tomorrow that if he even looks at you that a broken nose, split lip and black eye are the least of his worries.” His fingers move to my chin making me look in his eyes. The intense gaze he was giving me was sending butterflies to my stomach.

“Secondly what I said to you before was a dick move but you need to know that I said those things in the past tense, because I don’t see you that way anymore and I don’t think I ever really did. Fuck Y/N I don’t know.” He lifts his cap, running a hand through his messy hair before putting the cap back on and rubbing his eyes, groaning.

“And what that fucker said was a lie because I’ve never fucking hated you.” He stares into my eyes and I know he’s telling the truth.

One of his hands cups my cheek, and I hold my breath in fear of scaring him off. His forehead presses against mine and I can feel his breath against my lips.

“Have you ever hated me?” His words are hushed and I blush at how close our mouths are.

“Oh there’s been times where I’ve definitely hated you.” Michael smirks, a dark laugh leaving his lips before they’re pushed against mine and suddenly everything disappears. Just his kiss was sending a thousand volts through my body and it was suddenly like I couldn’t get close enough to him. Our faces moved against each other as our tongues wrestled. His hands gripped my face as mine clenched his shirt. We pull away for air and a small whimper leaves my throat. We both sit in silence, breathing in unison.

“Michael… could I stay here? I don’t want to be alone.” His eyes widen at my words and his mouth drops open playfully.

“Y/N how forward of you!” I blush and slap him on the chest.

“Not like that! I just want to talk to you, we’ve never just talked.” For the first real time since I’ve known him, Michael smiles - really smiles and puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his chest. He feels warm and in his arms I feel safe, almost like I don’t want to leave.

“I’d like that, Kitten.”

We both climb into the bed in our clothes, talking about anything and everything from Michael’s favourite music and where I grew up. I wasn’t sure when I fell asleep but all I knew was that just before I did I felt Michael kiss my forehead.

***

The light shone through the window, casting over the dark room and highlighting the arm around my waist. Somewhere through the night we had pressed up against each other and our legs were tangled as Michael spooned me. The T-shirt I was in had ridden up to my waist, Michael’s arm hot against my skin. I blinked slowly, letting myself wake up peacefully and my eyes adjust to the small amount of light in the room. I take time to remember everything that had happened at the party, left with the knowledge that Michael really does care about me and had saved me from Johnny’s ways.

I shift slightly in the bed, becoming aware of one of Michael’s hands resting on the skin of my thigh and I stretch out my back only to accidentally press my backside against his hips. His arm wraps tighter around me and his fingers spread out across my stomach. Somewhere during the night I had shed my skirt and was dressed only in his long t-shirt. I bite my lip trying not to laugh out loud and wiggle against him again. His fingers dig into my hips and I feel his face nuzzle into the back of my head.

“Kitten. Quit it.” But something bold awakens in me and I continue the movement, circling my hips back and revelling in how tight he holds me close in reaction.

“Y/N.” His voice is a growl of warning but there’s something electric about our bodies being so close. I know I’m pushing my luck but feeling his body react to me gives me all kinds of confidence.

His fingers trace the edge of my underwear and I shiver, fully rocking my ass back against his hardening dick.

“You feeling needy this morning? What happened to just talking?” His words blow hot breaths against my ear and I let out a breathy moan as his hand searches lazily over the lace of my panties, searching for my clit. He knows he’s found it when I let out a short gasp, and chuckles darkly.

“You need something?” His hand leaves my body and travels up towards my jaw, tilting my face up so that his lips are pressed against my ear. His grip is forceful but not painful and the dominance in his movements makes me whimper quietly.

“I just want to feel good Mikey.”

He groans in my ear and leans back from me, his hand on my hip.

“Turn around, please?” I shift my body until I’m facing him and he pulls me even closer, hooking my thigh over his hip until he is pressed up against me, grinding directly against my heat. I rock against him slowly, his half awake eyes and lazy grin making him look so fucking hot that I can’t help the whine that leaves my lips. I lean forward, brushing my lips softly against his.

He leans his head closer to mine to fully press his lips against my own but I pull back. He smirks and waits for me to lean forward before trying again but I pull my head away again, teasing him.

His hand goes to my ass and smacks down, pulling me into him and kissing me forcefully. I giggle against his lips and wrap my free arm around his neck, kissing him with everything I have. Michael rolls onto his back, pulling me on top of him, kiss hands pushing down on my backside and grinding up so I can feel every inch of his hardness.

“Kitten you’re going to make me nut right here if you’re not careful, looking so fucking beautiful in my clothes.” I sit up until I’m straddling him, blushing at his words.

“Are you going to go back to not liking me after this?” I take each of his hands in mine, entwining our fingers as I rock my hips forward at a steady pace. “Because i’m not that kind of girl, Clifford.” My tone is teasing and he pulls me down until I’m laying flat on his chest and kisses me deeply, murmuring against my lips.

“I have a funny feeling things aren’t going to be the same again Kitten.” He pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. “Look I’m DJing tonight and my band might play a set. Come and watch us? We can grab food after and see what happens?”

I rest my arms on either side of his head, “I’d like that.” Our lips meet again and I feel myself falling sideways as he rolls us over so that he’s on top of me.

“I want to make you feel good.” His words are whispered against my neck and he kisses down to where my neck and shoulder meets, biting down. I arch against his chest, pulling him closer. Our hips move against each other again, rocking to create as much friction as possible. I could feel how thick he was against my lace covered core and it made me want skin to skin contact - as much as I can get.

I wrap my legs around his waist and push my hips up but I feel his teeth graze my neck before biting down and I yelp out quietly.

“Don’t think for a second that you’re in control here Y/N.” One of his fingers slide under the lace of my underwear and starts tracing figure eights around my clit. I gasp out, my eyes sliding shut as his bulge continues to grind against me, sensations flowing through my body.

“You want to know something Kitten? Eyes on me.” I meet his intense stare, his free hand gripping my hip to steady my movements. His fingers speed up their movements and my eyes start to glaze over as little pants leave my mouth.

“Everytime we used to have our little spats I’d imagine putting my hand on the back of your head and shutting you up with my mouth, sucking on your tongue and swallowing up your words. I imagined what that bratty mouth would feel like, what you’d taste like. Whether you’d kiss like a princess or a dirty girl.”

His words caused my whole body to shiver, heat rising through my body and making my head spin.

“You going to find out or keep it to your imagination?” My words come out whinier then intended but I get the exact reaction I wanted as Michael growls under his breath and forces his lips against mine roughly, his tongue sliding across my bottom lip before sucking my tongue and biting down.

His hand pushes the rest of our clothes out of his way before hiking one of my thighs high against the bed and slowly pushing into me. I arch my back against him, panting softly as I start to feel oh so full.

“Fucking beautiful.” His words are whispered between us and our eyes connect as he pulls out softly before pushing all the way in. It’s delicious and hot and we both groan and the feeling. Every negative word passed between us melts away and all that is left is two people connecting in the closest of ways.

Our hips rock together, both of us searching for our highs, the small grunts and gasps filling the space between us our eyes staying locked on each other.

Michael’s forehead presses against mine as he grips my hand and pushes it against the mattress.

“Mikey.. I… I” my words are gasped out and Michael presses his lips against mine. “You close baby?” He presses his lips against my neck and sucks harshly, pressing deep inside and grinding his hips and my head spins. Something bursts deep inside me and I throw my head back, a silent scream leaving my mouth.

“Oh fuck, so tight…” A groan leaves Mikey’s lips and he pulls out, releasing over my stomach. A giggle leaves my lips as he flops down next to me with a sheepish grin. He reaches for his shirt, cleaning me up softly.

“You going to let me call you Kitten from now on?” His hand strokes the side of my face and I muzzle into it.

“Only if I can call you my puppy dog?” His face scrunches up and he frowns and me playfully.

“Fuck right off.” His words are harsh but the glint in his eyes is warmer then it’s ever been.

“Woof woof,” I tease before a screaming laugh leaves my lips as he rolls back on top of me, his lips travelling to my stomach as he blows raspberries and tickles me.

I don’t know how long we led there but all I knew was I could spend forever lost between these sheets.

🎆

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