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theangelyouknew · 2 years

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So, I want to talk about my weird experience with Harry Potter. Why it’s specifically weird for me to think about the franchise these days.

I’ll start out with JK Rowling is transphobic trash. Get that out of the way.

Ever since these damn books came out, I’ve never been allowed to really experience these books in my own way. Not entirely. Yes, they shaped my teens, but not in the way I think a lot of people see it.

My grandma got me the books against my will for Christmas. I had zero interest in them. My other grandparents were visiting that summer (the summer between 8th and 9th grade) and my stepmom, who wanted to read the books herself? Got mad that I still hadn’t read them. She said she couldn’t read them until I did because they were mine. So I was grounded until I read them.

Again. My other grandparents were visiting from out of state. I was grounded until I read these books. There were 3 of them at the time. I read them as fast as I could. I think it took me like 3 days. I concentrated so hard despite my ADHD that I made myself sick from lack of eating. Cuz I wanted to see my grandparents. Thankfully the books held my interest or it would have been pure torture.

That’s one direction I was pulled into.

That fall, I, who had no friends, was invited to go to a school mate’s church. I had been going for a month or so when they told me Harry Potter is evil. I had to get rid of the books.

I asked my stepmom if I could get rid of the books church didn’t like. When she asked what books, I said “Harry Potter.” She flipped the fuck out. Said if I got rid of them I wouldn’t be allowed to go to church ever again. I had to compromise and put my books in a box under my bed and just not touch them if I really didn’t want to read them.

That’s another direction I was pulled in regards to Harry Potter.

So I have these books in my room making me feel guilty at church. The movie comes out. I have to go see it with the family. The entire time, I’m praying god won’t send me to hell cuz I still got the church in my ear telling me how bad Harry Potter is. My parents get the movie when it’s on idk if it was dvd yet or still vhs honestly by that time, but I remember sitting in the living room to “rewatch” it and just staring out the window bc I can’t enjoy it. Thanks god.

I spent years with her vs the church in my head. Both were wrong. But ultimately the church kicked me out when I turned 18, and I lived with her so it was easy to enjoy it. Besides; i was a huge alan rickman fan so, hell yeah Snape.

So this franchise was shoved down my throat and simultaneously vilified during some of my most life altering years of my life.

I don’t remember what my favorite color was BEFORE Harry Potter. But I can tell you now, it’s green. But if you look at everything I do, i instinctively gravitate towards blues. Blue car. Blue bike. Blue hair (ok that changes often), blue WEDDING DRESS, but if you ask me I always say green. For slytherin. But is green my favorite color? I don’t know. Most people around me assumes it’s blue.

If I had never been forced to read Harry Potter, would I have cared about it? Turned it into part of my personality? Honestly I doubt it. I mean I might have watched the movies eventually, but I wouldn’t have gotten so attached. Cuz it wouldn’t have mattered.

If I hadn’t I’d the church trying to pry it away from me would i feel the way do now? Probably not. It’d just be another book series. I might not have had my stepmom freak out and force it harder down my throat. Idk.

Both these scenarios were WRONG and extreme. And frustrating to think about now. And because JK is trash, with harmful world views, I’m being told once again how to feel about the books and world this garbage queen wrote.

And it wouldn’t be so hard to let go a book series if it wasn’t put on such weird pedestals in my life to begin with. It’s just a book series. It’s not a fucking life style. The story itself not a moral right or wrong. (The author is, don’t give her money fuck her) but at the end of the day the books themselves are dime a dozen at thrift shops and shit.

Also if you have kids and they don’t want to read a book, don’t force it. Holy hell.

#harry potter #anti jkr #I was at cemetery church and zoning out while the father went on and on #cuz I married a catholic but they’re more lenient than my old church #and I still have adhd and I was looking at the colors on the windows #and thinking about how the greens were pretty but the blues were too #and that got me to thinking about my weird relationship with Harry Potter #and I have no idea what the father was talking about at all

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earthscience-review · 6 months

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Reposted from a school website: https://tonkawritingcenter.wordpress.com/

4 Things you (probably) didn’t know about the center of the Earth

Have you ever wondered what it’d be like to tunnel straight down through the center of the Earth? If you’ve never wondered about it before, I dare you to not contemplate the mantle after going through this Core Curriculum.

Under the Sea (there’s more Sea)

Your middle school earth science class likely gave you a clear mental picture of the Earth’s layers. There’s the oceanic crust, the mantle, the outer core, and the inner core. At no point is there another layer of blue between the rock layers. However, new research suggests that more of the ocean lies under the seafloor than above. These water reservoirs were created over billions of years as subducted tectonic plates brought down surface water.

Between which layers is the secret Sea? It’s a little more complicated than that. The first underground ocean is in the transition zone, between the upper and lower mantle. However, the water is stored not as a solid, liquid, or gas but in a 4th state: a solute in high-pressure rock.

Ringwoodite is a brilliant blue phase of magnesium silicate, which is only stable at pressures existing around 400 miles under the surface. An article published in Science in 2014 introduced the now-popular theory that this layer is a big step in the water cycle. If just 1% of the transition zone is H2O by mass, this layer has 3x as much water as the ocean.

Another study published in Nature Geoscience on November 13 found evidence that not all water subducted into the mantle stops in the transition zone. If the water reaches the core, it reacts violently with the core materials to form a thin layer of metallic liquid. This is the forbidden stage of the water cycle, and it explains phenomena climate scientists have been wondering about for ages.

2. The grind isn’t always 24/7

That’s right. 1.4 billion years ago, there were only 19 hours a day. Really, no two days are ever the same length. Many things have affected how long it takes for the planet to rotate. These include the moon’s gravity, the melting of polar ice caps, and even earthquakes.

Recently, however, the core has begun decelerating the planet’s spin. This is because the core spins independently of the mantle. The mantle and outer core are molten rock, but the intense pressure at the planet’s center keeps the inner core solid. The inner core is only suspended in the mantle and can slosh around however it (and gravity) wants it to. This solid piece used to spin faster than the rest of the planet, but a study published in Nature Geoscience in January suggests that since 2009, it’s been slower than the planet.

It’s unclear yet why the core is doing this. However, we know this affects the entire planet because of the conservation of angular momentum. Since the planet’s mass is redistributed, its rotational velocity changes.

3. Never Eat Soggy Waffles…unless?

We can also thank the core for the planet’s magnetic field. Heat radiates from it, driving convection currents that move electrically charged particles in the molten outer core. The field generated by those currents is responsible for shielding life on Earth from cosmic radiation. It aligns our compasses and shapes animal brains for navigation. However, Earth’s polarity has a tendency to switch up.

The poorly understood process of field reversal involves a 90% weakening of the magnetic field before the poles swap places. North and south flip at an average interval of 200,000 years. It’s been 780,000 years since our last reversal, which is longer than humans have been around. Since it was first measured in the 1830s, the strength of the magnetic field has decreased by about 10%. This trend and an unusual gap in the magnetic field over the South Atlantic Ocean caused some sensationalist science news last year over fear of a catastrophic field reversal in our lifetimes. The magnetic field rift that has caused satellites to malfunction is pictured below.

This plausibility of imminent field switch was denied in an article published by the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences last year. The field will flip again. However, it won’t be instantaneous. Geomagnetic reversals take hundreds to thousands of years. So, we wouldn't know a switch was happening until it was more than halfway over.

4. The mantle brought you into this world, and it can take you out

Maybe you’ve heard of the Goldilocks Zone, an ideal size and distance from a star that planets need to support life. And while the planet’s position is crucial, so is catching its geology in its sustaining life era.

In a study published in Nature Geoscience this September, models that predict future climate change forecasted the end of all mammals in the distant future. 250 million years from now, it's likely that the movement of tectonic plates—pieces of the uppermost mantle—will form a new supercontinent, Pangaea Ultima. Because of its nature as a supercontinent, most life on it will be without the cooling effect of ocean currents. Volcanic activity and a hotter sun won’t help either. In the model, only 8% of Pangaea Ultima’s surface area will be habitable for mammals.

I hope you’ve learned something new about the center of the Earth! With the speed at which research is developing, this post could be outdated next week. Either way, it’s worth spending a little less time thinking about the world around you and more time thinking about the one beneath you.

Image sources:

https://www.sciencelearn.org.nz/resources/337-inside-the-earth

https://www.ucl.ac.uk/earth-sciences/news/2019/may/deepest-blue

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/South_Atlantic_Anomaly

https://climate.nasa.gov/explore/ask-nasa-climate/3104/flip-flop-why-variations-in-earths-magnetic-field-arent-causing-todays-climate-change/

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41561-023-01259-3

References

Farnsworth, Alexander, et al. “Climate extremes likely to drive land mammal extinction during next supercontinent assembly.” Nature Geoscience, 25 Sept. 2023, pp. 1–8, www.nature.com/articles/s41561-023-01259-3, https://doi.org/10.1038/s41561-023-01259-3. Accessed 28 Sept. 2023.

Kim, Taehyun, et al. “A hydrogen-enriched layer in the topmost outer core sourced from deeply subducted water.” Nature Geoscience, 13 Nov. 2023, https://doi.org/10.1038/s41561-023-01324-x. Accessed 16 Nov. 2023.

Nilsson, Andreas, et al. “Recurrent ancient geomagnetic field anomalies shed light on future evolution of the South Atlantic anomaly.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, vol. 119, no. 24, 6 June 2022, https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.2200749119.

Schmandt, Brandon, et al. “Dehydration melting at the top of the lower mantle.” Science, vol. 344, no. 6189, 13 June 2014, pp. 1265–1268, https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1253358.

Yang, Yi, and Xiaodong Song. “Multidecadal variation of the Earth’s inner-core rotation.” Nature Geoscience, 23 Jan. 2023, pp. 1–6, www.nature.com/articles/s41561-022-01112-z, https://doi.org/10.1038/s41561-022-01112-z. Accessed 26 Jan. 2023.

#geology #rocks #science #physics #research scientist #science news #space #stem #editorial #earthscience-review #earth science #geologist #geoscience #planets #climate change

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peakyblindersxx · 3 years

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Hello!! Do you think you could write something John Shelby where his gf is very shy and innocent (like the complete opposite of him) like John was her first everything and after a while she asks John to be more rough with her in bed?? Like more dominant and aggressive?? Hope that made sense, thank you !!!

a\n: hey babe! ty soo much for requesting this cause i liked it so much i had to make an entire fic about it. i’m a sinner. hope you enjoy!!

tagging my bestie @stxdyblr-2k ik you’ve been waiting love u !!

love, abi xxx

desperate - john shelby x reader

warnings: nsfw!!! degradation, praise kink, power play, john being sexy as fuck

John Shelby was a sight to behold in bed. From the moment he had taken your virginity, slow and sweet in your best friend Ada Shelby’s guest room, John’s touch was slow and torturous, fingertips searing into your skin as he was soft and slow with you, making you come with his mouth and hands before even attempting to broach the subject of his cock inside you. You were already his, his pink lips a welcome relief as he lapped at your cunt, obscene sounds echoing off the walls. The two of you were tipsy, the rest of the party obscenely dancing to music playing from the gramophone downstairs. John had always been irresistible to you, but you were his younger sister’s innocent friend, whom you thought he never noticed. He was surprised that you even showed up to the party hanging off Ada’s arm, clad in a light pink silk dress that clung to your curves in a way that made his mouth water. He had watched you make your way through the party, downing whatever drink Ada passed your way. Finally, he got drunk enough to make his way over to you, your eyes sparkling as they met his, gin and tonic sloshing in the glass in your hand. The two of you fell into conversation, John’s fingertips grazing your bare back, causing goosebumps to prickle on your skin.

“Having fun?” John’s lips brushed against your ear as the two of you stood at the edge of the party, at the entrance to a hallway leading to a few spare rooms. You shivered at the contact, alcohol pumping through your veins, giving you the courage to be blunt. “It’d be better if you kissed me,” you smiled shyly, looking up at John through your eyelashes. John’s lips met yours, backing you up slowly against the wall as he kissed you gently, teeth tugging at your bottom lip for access. You let him in, like you’d dreamed of so many times before, kissing him back with fervor, letting out a soft whimper. John groaned, abruptly removing his lips from yours before tugging you into the nearest empty bedroom. He shut the door quickly, lifting you up with his hands on your ass as he connected his lips with yours again, setting you down on the bed before looking down at you with dilated pupils.

“John, there’s something I need to tell you,” you murmured, looking down at the blanket on the bed.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” John asked, peppering kisses on your collarbone.

“I’m-I’m a virgin,” you blurted out, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

John stopped and locked his blue eyes with yours. “You don’t need to be embarrassed about that, darling. It’s just.. Are you sure you want to do this? With me?”

You nodded, looking up at John under hooded eyes. “Yes.”

John wasted no time in covering your body with his, kissing you harder than before. And now, here you were, back arching into John’s face as he continued rubbing circles into your clit while he devoured you. You weren’t even conscious of the noises leaving your mouth as you came all over John’s face, eyes rolling back into your head as you reached your climax. John groaned into your cunt as he watched you come, continuing his ministrations through your orgasm, causing your legs to shake. John finally stopped, chuckling as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

“So fucking pretty when you come.”

You blushed, as John made little work of the rest of your clothes. He spent the next hour showing you just how hard he could make you come, and you couldn’t help but let him. He was headache inducing, in all the right ways. From then on, he’d always find ways to get you alone, from in his office, in his car, in various hotels, to even in the goddamn movie theater once. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, the way he took his time with you, and always paid attention to how your body reacted. However, you knew there was more to John Shelby than the sweetness that he showed you. You had overheard many heated phone calls; heard the rumors spread about his reputation. You found yourself longing for more. You wanted to see the dark side of John, wanted him to use you to his satisfaction.

You could hear John swearing into the telephone before you even opened his office door, the air thick with the tension of the day. You quietly slipped in, not wanting to interrupt. John stood at his desk, eyes trained on the papers spread across it as he snapped into the receiver, shooting his whiskey between sentences. His shoulders were clenched underneath his dark grey suit, making you want to run your hands across the taught muscles in an attempt to help him relax. Profanities spewed from his soft lips as he argued with whoever was on the other line, running a hand through his neatly combed hair.

“I gave you a deadline, yeah? Now, you need to fucking deliver!” John slammed the phone down, exhaling as his eyes found you. A small smile replaced the frown that had previously occupied his mouth.

“God, you’re a fucking sight for sore eyes,” John exhaled.

“Could say the same.” You smiled up at him, walking behind his desk and kissing him, breathing in the intoxicating smell of his cologne. John picked you up and sat you on the desk, deepening the kiss. Before he could continue, you freed your lips from him. John furrowed his brow in confusion, but before he could say anything, you spoke.

“I need to ask you something.”

“What’s goin’ on, darlin’?” John looked slightly concerned, his blue eyes trained on yours.

You steadied your breath. “I was wondering if… you know…. you could be, um, rough with me?”

John let out a sigh, dropping his head slightly before bringing it back up to meet yours, the light of the fireplace reflected off of his eyes. his arms on either sides of you. “Fucking christ, sweetheart. Never thought I’d hear those words come out of that sweet little mouth, hm?” John grinned at you as you ducked your head in embarrassment.

John lifted your chin so your eyes met his again. “I’ll do it, but only if you promise to tell me if it’s too much. You say stop, and I’ll stop, yeah?”

“I promise,” You replied, blushing slightly.

John smiled at you before pressing kisses down your neck, causing goosebumps to prickle. “Pretty little thing like you, wanting me to treat you like a whore, eh?”

You shivered at his words, and John took note, letting out a low chuckle. “Look at you, getting all riled up. Barely even touched you yet sweetheart.”

“John,” you whined, and his eyes darkened.

“Don’t be a fucking brat.” John’s harsh tone went straight to your core as he continued pressing sloppy kisses to your collarbone. You fucking wanted it, and he knew it. Your back arched into John at the mere touch of his hands and mouth. You were already so far gone, it was ridiculous.

“John, please,” you whimpered, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes, cheeks flushed. This was the look he couldn’t resist, and some part of you knew it.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna take care of you,” John crooned, his fingers finding their way to your sopping wet core. “Jesus, Y/N, you that wet for me already? Been thinking about my cock all day, huh?”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, moaning at John’s fingertips curling against the spot that made your head spin. John chuckled darkly. “Pretty little girl, couldn’t even wait for me to get home, hm? Had to come see me so I could give you what you need.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, and John’s eyes darkened as he reached a hand up to grip your throat, making your breath hitch.

“Watch your language, princess. Don’t wanna have to make me punish you.” John rumbled, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit as you squirmed, nodding with flushed cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped between whimpers, as John wasted no time connecting your lips roughly. He flipped you over, shoving your skirt over the curve of your ass before entering you, groaning at the feeling of your wet heat practically sucking him in as he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your upper half off the desk as he fucked into you at an infuriatingly slow pace.

“You don’t even care that I’ve got you bent over the desk like a whore, huh? You that desperate for me, sweetheart?” John grunted, savoring the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you slowly. The only speech you could manage other than a fevered nod was almost a cry, and you almost could feel John grin at the state you were in.

“Please, sir,” you managed to blurt out, aching for more from him.

“Please, what?” John mocked, but it went straight to your lower abdomen. It was like he already knew which buttons to press to get you as riled up as possible. If you were screwed before, you were definitely fucked now. Quite literally.

“Please fuck me harder, sir,” you moaned, attempting to fuck yourself back onto him. John grinned at the sight of how eager you were for him; how willing you were to take whatever he gave you.

“Should’ve fucked you like this sooner, huh? Knew you loved my cock, but fucking ‘ell, darling,” John crooned, watching you cry out and grab for the top of the desk for leverage as he pounded into you, savoring the whimpers that fell out of your mouth.

“I’m gonna-” you couldn’t even finish your sentence as John quickened his pace, his hand toying with your clit.

“You gonna come all over my cock, pretty girl?” John growled as he slammed into you roughly, fingertips bruising at your hips. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came as hard as you had ever in your life, body going limp as John chased your orgasm with his, grunting as he released into your pulsing cunt, stickiness dripping down the back of your thighs.

“Fuck,” John groaned as he took his cock out of you. He reached into a drawer and produced a dry towel, cleaning you up and pressing kisses to the curve of your back as you laid there panting, seeing stars.

“You alright, love?” John questioned, pushing your hair behind your ear and planting a kiss to your forehead.

You nodded, smiling up at him before he pulled you into his arms for a kiss.

“Let me take you home and make you dinner, hmm?” John queried, pressing kisses to your hair.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured into John’s neck, sleepy yet satisfied.

#john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders smut #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #john shelby

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messers-moony · 3 years

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Loverboy | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader

Summary: Five helps his girlfriend through something she’s been hiding for a long time.

Request: Can I order a FiveXreader where the reader is sterile? (I'm sterile and I'm very judged because I can't have kids, but it's okay for me not to have kids, I just don't feel good about judgments)

They were twenty. Five had long gone the apocalypse and doomsday. He was finally able to settle down with his girlfriend. The girl who he planned to marry, the girl who was an assassin by his side, the girl who spent an entire apocalypse with him.

“Hey, loverboy.” Y/n called from the couch, and he slumped beside her, “What’s going on love?”

“How do you feel about having kids?”

“Kids?” Five repeated, and she nodded, “Well, I don’t have an exact opinion. How about you?”

Y/n hesitated, “Well- I- um… I’d love to have kids, but I can’t.”

“What do you mean?” Five turned and swirled the coffee in his cup.

“I’m- I’m sterile.” Y/n confessed, “I physically cannot have kids.”

His eyes softened, and he set down his coffee cup on the table, “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

“Love, look at me.” Five held both her hands, and she tilted her head to look at him, “It’s not a problem. I assure you.”

“You- You promise?” Tears were begging to fall from her eyes as Y/n stuttered, “I promise, baby. We will work through this. Just like everything else.”

Y/n smiled, and Five wiped her tears, gently kissing her forehead, “You’re my everything. You’ll always be my everything.”

Thankfully the conversation was over. Five had pulled her into his side. His fingers were running through her hair and occasionally kissing her temple while they watched their favorite show together. Y/n’s hand intertwined with the one that wasn’t around her.

Eventually, she fell asleep, and Five situated her more comfortably, “I love you, baby girl.”

The following morning she woke up to no Five. But instead, hot coffee and breakfast on the coffee table. A sticky note was beside it, a blue sticky note, and it read, “Always love you, pretty girl.” It warmed her heart to see how much he cared about her. But it wasn’t until hours later Five came back home.

“Shh, sh, she can’t know yet.” He whispered as he came into the apartment, “Know about what?” Y/n replied as she saw him in the doorway with something tiny in his hand along with a couple of bags.

“Whatcha got there?”

Five set down the little thing in his hand; it began to skitter to her legs. Y/n bent down to the little thing. The little thing was a Jack Russel Terrier. It was mainly white with brown spots. The dog had a blue-collar, and the charm read, Mr. PennyCrumb.

The puppy was licking her face all over as she stood up from the floor, seeing her nervous boyfriend, “Where’d you get the little guy?”

“Adoption shelter.” Five muttered, “Thought maybe if we couldn’t have a real child. You’d like a puppy?”

Y/n teared up, “You- You got us a puppy.”

“I did.” Five replied, “Is- Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” Y/n chuckled with tears in her eyes, “Of course it’s okay, loverboy!”

Five let out a sigh of relief and embraced his girlfriend in his arms, kissing her face all over, “I thought you were gonna be pissed.”

“Pissed?”

“Thought maybe it’d offend you.”

“No, no.” Y/n said, cupping his cheeks, “This is great.”

“You know.” Five began, “Check the back of his collar.”

Y/n gave him a suspicious look. She bent down to the puppy, who was very excited to meet his new momma. Carefully Y/n flipped the charm over to the other side. On it, it read, “Marry me?” Turning around, she saw Five on one knee and a ring in his hand.

“There literally aren’t enough words in the English language to describe how much you mean to me.” Five began, and tears piled in Y/n’s eyes, “Truly, I mean we’ve been through hell, literally.”

“But here I am, and I’m going to try.” Five stated, “Y/n, we met at ten years old. And here we are, physically twenty yet mentally seventy-something years old, and I cannot tell you how many times I wish you didn’t have to go through that. It was an awful time. We both suffered, but we made it through. Despite those horrendous times, we- we made it back home.”

“I’ll never forget your face of glee when we did. God, you looked so happy even if we were back in our thirteen-year-old bodies. You were just happy to be home.”

“Thank you for everything. Marrying you has been a dream of mine since we made it official at eleven years old. So after over five decades of waiting, let me make you Y/n Hargreeves.” Five stated, “Please.”

Y/n scoffed, “Please? Are you stupid? Of course, yes.”

Five stood up and slid the ring on her finger, “A man proposes to his girlfriend, and the first thing she asks him is ‘Are you stupid?’ That’s going down in the books.”

She laughed, and so did he. Five hugged her again, his nose in her hair and hers in the crook of his neck. An embrace so close and so intimate. It made his heart race like it did the first time she hugged him at ten years old. Back then, Five didn’t know what it meant, but now he did. Five would be damned if he let her go.

“I love you, Five Hargreeves.”

“I love you, Y/n Hargreeves.”

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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

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Razor: Cuddle HCs

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the compliment^^ I absolutely adore Razor, he was my favourite to play until Childe came out. Who is Diluc? Sorry? Claymore user?? Empowered autos??? Yeah no, I only see Razor sorry. Hahh, I’m still trying to grind all the materials I would need to 90 Xiao but it’s hard;;

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Today’s appreciation post goes to svnflowery. Actual sweetheart oml. One reply and I’m already smitten (❤´艸｀❤). One of the few people I can shout my conspiracy theories to about a fictional game but I appreciate you. Really it just devolves into me crying about how upsetting character stories are;; Seriously if you ever want to chat with me, my dms are open do not be shy. I love lore talk so goddamn much you have no idea.

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Semi Part 1: General HCs

Semi Part 2: Pre-Relationship HCs

Semi Part 4: Jealous HCs

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @sunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten

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Razor: Cuddle HCs

During your first interactions with Razor, he was a bit aloof and quiet. He never came off as rude but he didn’t seem like the cuddly type you would have expected. Though, he did live with wolves his entire life. It was cute to see his head popping out of the bushes when he noticed it was just you and running over. He didn’t smile as much as you would have hoped when he saw you but you could get a small one or even a laugh on lucky day’s when you both went exploring or hunting. After spending some more time together and having Razor warm up to you, it was almost like his entire personality did a 180 flip and he became this affectionate ball of fluff. The day he announced you as one of his Lupical was the first day he ever smiled full heartedly at you.

The first time you cuddled was during a really bad rainstorm. You could hear the thunder and some area’s of Wolvendom even sparked blue static before lightening crashed down. It’d be safe to say that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to try and walk home in this kind of weather condition. Razor seemed to agree as he quickly led you to a small cave hidden under some moss while telling you to avoid the trees unless you wanted to get struck. It was a bit of a tight fit if you both didn’t want to get pelted by rain but it was oddly comforting. Feeling Razor’s soft hair brush against your cheek and feeling him press against your arm. That was until lightening struck down a tree near you both scaring you out of your skin.

Razor subtly jumped at your jumpiness and noticed your shivering and quickly huddled up to you. He felt how cold you were against him but any fire you both could have started wouldn’t have any room where it was safe. Plus all the wood was probably wet at this point. He quickly shuffled closer to you and placed his head on top of yours and letting his body drape over you. It made you short-circuit for a moment before reminding yourself, Razor’s naturally affectionate with people he trusts and he had been raised by wolves. This was something he and his family did during rainstorms. There wasn’t anything wrong with this, just him trying to warm you up. There was no hidden meaning behind this and you should stop over-thinking and let your heart be still or else you might have a bigger problem on your hands.

Razor doesn’t cuddle in the traditional way, he doesn’t necessarily embrace you from behind in a back hug or anything, he was raised by wolves so he cuddles the way they do. At first it confused you the first time you huddle together during that thunderstorm and he just nuzzled into your neck and was basically trapping you under his body but it was a comforting weight, even if the hard ground wasn’t the most pleasant. His soft gray hair was a bit matted due to the rain but you didn’t mind one bit. As much as you tried not to compare Razor to a puppy it really did feel like you were cuddling up to one. Being able to wrap your arms around him, running your hands through his hair, and listening to the rain fall made you slowly drift off into sleep.

Razor’s always been amazed at how soft you are in your own way. After spending so much time living as a wolf, he had scars running over his body and his hands were rough from the grass and the occasional wolfhook that managed to scratch him. The scar on his cheek always made you wonder if they still hurt as you gently ran your hands over them but he never seemed to stir. Whenever you both cuddle Razor ends up falling asleep first but he’s a bit of a light sleeper. You can’t really make any sudden movements but just so long as you’re quiet he won’t be startled awake. Razor is always running around or taking care of his family that it makes you feel soft to see him finally relax, that he’s comfortable enough to cuddle up to you and fall asleep. Plus whenever he wakes up he seems so drowsy that you can’t help but internally squeal.

Sometimes when you’re stressed or just tired and lonely, you’ll go see Razor. He can catch your mood in your scent, not sure on how that works but you really hope it’s just wolf instinct that he’s picked up and not other things, and you can sit down and open your arms and he’ll run up and cuddle into your embrace. His hair is so soft despite being in the wild that you can’t help but sigh into his shoulder and nuzzle your cheek into it. When you’re with Razor, there is no such thing as personal boundary unless directly stated. You might have lost some sense of embarrassment or self-restraint considering how Razor acts that you have to catch yourself from petting Bennet or Sucrose because they both remind you of him. Which ends up making you feel a bit clingy and you find yourself back in Wolvendom searching for a head of gray hair to pop up from the bushes.

---

Every fiber of my being want’s to stop calling Razor a dog or giving him dog qualities but goddammit he’s such a goodboy.

A bit of a delay but I managed to finish my assignment on time to finish writing this. I’m gonna make these a bit shorter since I don’t have time to write a full fic at the bottom, sorry;; I woke up because I forgot to post this so I go back to sleep now. When I’m awake again I’ll reply to asks^^

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gojology · 3 years

Text

Lovebirds.

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | omg this is my first request. ilysm anon, im now feelin super cool. also, i just realized i put recc (as in recommended) instead of requests. i’m super stupid LOL. anyways, im touch starved too dw bby, i’m servin u up a long one since i rlly like this request and after all u r my first! 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Gojo x Wife! Reader 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 2307 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | None! 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Coming home from a long mission in America, precisely 1 year, you’re excited to catch up on Gojo’s students, Nanami, and just Gojo in general. Leaning out of the car window, resting your arm against your purse, you sighed. A humid wind brushed against your skin, tickling you. It had been quite a while since you had been in Japan, spending almost a year on a huge mission in America. You had killed a battalion worthy amount of special grades. You spent most of your time in America in mostly horribly rundown places, equally as infested with curses. Although you found yourself enjoying America’s natural beauty, further away from the city life that many of the Americans found themselves enjoying, you much preferred Japan. after all, it was your home, and where you met Gojo Satoru. It would be another day until you could return, and you had gone through hundreds of scenarios of finally being in his arms again, but nonetheless, you were ecstatic at the thought of your husband’s touch. Your phone’s notification chimed loudly, you threw your phone onto the other seat, heart jumping up to a high rate. It was a recording of Satoru loudly yelling, “OPEN YOUR FUCKING PHONE!” with a flurry of giggles afterwards. Ijichi jumped, turning left and right. Whispering under his breath, he let out an exasperated sigh, switching the music channel. The recording was mostly because of the time you had to ghost him due to work. Gojo had snuck on and recorded it, doing some magical tech stuff and giving you the custom notification sound. You had kept it that way ever since, since secretly, you enjoyed that you were so badly wanted by Gojo, that, and you had no idea how to change it back. But the custom notification was sweet as well. You smiled to yourself every time you heard it, a familiar twinge of pain flashing inside of you whenever you realized you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. Well, today, and the days after that would be different. You’d be able to finally see Gojo again, and his new students that he always frantically texted you about. Nanami, an old friend of Gojo, and also an old friend of yours, would also be there to welcome you back, you found yourself reminiscing about them. You had heard so much about them, one of the kids being Sukuna’s vessel, you wondered how Gojo could contain such a fear, being around the kid at all times, he always told you about how the kid was actually energetic and happy and an overall great kid, you had heard about Nanami, finally coming back into the jujutsu sorcerer field of work, even though you always found that he still had a thing for finances. You shook your head, “Save that shit for later, (Y/N).” muttering to yourself, you didn’t want to think of anything but Gojo, after all, it had been one fucking year of being deprived of the man you loved most. You were practically starving for the guy, in more ways than one. Ijichi gulped, facing towards you, one hand on his steering wheel, “Forgive me Mrs. Satoru, but um.. Forgive me if I misheard, but I think I heard your phones notification go off.. Due to the ah- incredibly loud profanity.” Now just realizing that you had completely forgotten about the phone notification, you nodded your thanks to Ijichi, a warmth rushing to your cheeks before opening up your phone. In the small, rounded box containing Gojo’s message, he wrote in all caps, “SUGAR, MY BELOVED, MY QUEEN, HOW CLOSE ARE YOU? I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT I’M LITERALLY BOUNCING UP AND DOWN IN OUR BED.” Smiling to yourself, you furiously texted back, “Calm down honeybun, I’ll be there in like, 24 hours, I’m not even fucking close.” You almost instantly got a DM back, making you jump a bit in your seat. Even with the 5 years of friendship, and the 3 years of relationship, and the 2 years of marriage, he still almost always texted you back as quickly as possible. “God I can’t fucking wait for you to meet the kids! We’ll keep it a surprise, yeah? We have a bunch of treats, and we also got the kids to get some gifts for you! How thoughtful aren’t they? They’re MY offspring by the way, so like, you know, whenever you want a kid, it’s your call ;)” You snorted to yourself, smiling. He genuinely seemed so excited, and it was all shining through even though it was from a screen. “Maybe in a few years, I don’t even wanna imagine a little you.” Despite the excited, bubbling feeling brewing bigger and bigger in your stomach, you figured it’d be best to sleep before the chaos. Happily sighing, you laid down, using your purse as a pillow, drifting into a blissful sleep. ‧₊˚✩彡. You awoke to a sudden halt, Looking around your surroundings, you figured you were home. Ijichi looked like he was damn near about to fall asleep on the steering wheel. Well, maybe that’s what 24 hours of constant driving did to you. You fished around in your purse, silently cursing looking for a water bottle. “Here, Ijichi, looks like you ran a marathon.” you grinned, handing the slightly crumped water bottle to him. He beamed as if a guardian angel had descended down and gave him a trillion dollars. “Mrs. Satoru! You really mean it? The ride was nothing, I was merely instructed to do so and I would’ve done it happily regardless.” You waved your hand, as a dismissal of the conversation. “You overwork yourself Ijichi, go catch a break, on me. If Gojo tears you apart, tell him he won’t be getting any pussy from me for another year.” Ichiji nodded vigorously, before dashing off, probably towards a massage center, God that guy needed it. ‧₊˚✩彡. Gojo frantically hopped up and down, it had been a day, now he was just waiting for you to bust through the door in your wild hair, his legs sprawled onto the whole of a couch, he stared at the ceiling, a dopey smile spread across his face. “Satoru. (Y/N) will not even want to be associated with you, looking at your current state.” he remarked, staring at the sorcerer with his strikingly dead eyes. “Nanami, how the fuck am I supposed to act calm?! I’ve waited for this moment for ONE YEAR! Does my hair look normal?!” “Your hair looks just like an albino porcupine, just as usual.” Flipping the page of his newspaper, he sighed, rubbing his temples. “I will never understand how someone like (Y/N) would be.. Interested in you, Satoru.” Gojo paid no attention to the insult Nanami had so clearly made, his ears were perked up, eavesdropping on a distant conversation coming closer and closer. “Gojo-Senpai was telling me about this movie while training my cursed energy! He basically spoiled the whole thing but he told me that the main character was super annoying but apparently she dies in the end in the most gruesome way possible! It’s worth the watch, your soul will feel cleansed as soon as you see her lifeless body!” “Yuuji, you literally spoiled the whole thing to me just now.” Fushiguro calmly stated, looking bored out of his mind. “Oh, oops.” Yuuji rubbed the back of his neck. He smiled coyly, tightly hugging his present. “What’s with the decorations, Gojo-Sensei?” inquired Nobara, stroking her warm toned brown hair. She had figured it was something about the presents that Gojo had forced the trio to get, but he never told them who it was for. The room had been decorated with various balloons and confetti, scattered about, on the table and the ground. A cake box wrapped with a gigantic bow limply guarded whoever was brave enough to get their hands on something that Gojo seemed to be protecting with his life. A pink table cover with a crudely drawn Gojo and what would seem to be a girl, a heart in the middle of the pair. In a horrible font with an even awfuller text, the text on top and at the bottom of the drawing proudly stated: “WELCOME BACK QT” “-YOU’RE HUSBAND AND THE CREW” Nobara stood in distaste, trying to disguise the face she made. The drawing, the misused you’re, and the overall poor design choice was enough to almost make her vomit. Nobara, about to make her distasteful statements about the whole mess, was suddenly shut up as Gojo started hopping up and down, looking directly at his phone. “SHE’S COMING! SHE’S COMING! EVERYONE IN YOUR PLACES!” Now, seeing Gojo freak out wasn’t outside of the ordinary, but it was to see him freak out to this extent. He was hopping up and down, blabbering about a certain woman named (Y/N). Nobara was pretty sure that if a curse attacked right now, even a special grade comparable to the one with the uncomplete domain could completely crush Gojo, the guy seemed completely unaware of the example he was setting to the kids. Even Yuuji stood in disbelief, and he had seen multiple tantrums by Gojo. Nanami, however, licked his finger and flipped the newspaper page. A face of boredom obviously displayed. Nobara, preparing herself to chew Gojo out about how utterly stupid and embarrassing he made the whole class of jujutsu sorcerers look like, stopped wide eyed as she looked at the doors slide wide open. ‧₊˚✩彡. You stood, shyly, looking at the ground. Gojo dove headfirst into your arms, laughing like a maniac and digging his face into your shoulder. You breathed in his scent, scanning the room. Three teens, sat wide-eyed, backs straight as they looked at you with eyes you couldn’t quite read. All three of them held presents. The one with eyelids underneath his eyes (which you assumed was Yuuji, the vessel of Sukuna) eyed you curiously, his eye twitched. The other boy, one with wild black-blue hair, sat mouth agape, before closing it. He looked like he was about to say something, before stopping entirely and hugging his present closer to his chest. The warm haired girl darted her eyes between you two, seemingly trying to put the puzzle together. Nanami put the newspaper down, glancing over to you two. “This is obviously Gojo-Senpai’s wife. He hasn’t seen her in many months, and as you can see, really really misses her.” he paused, a small smile spreading on his face, a rare sight. “I don’t even know why myself, but what can you do with lovebirds?” he thought aloud, his attention now focused to the two of you furiously making out, hands in places Yuuji and the crew didn’t need to see. “Satoru, (Y/N), leave the kissing for later. Don’t you see the kids?” You detached yourself from his mouth, panting for breath. The air being exhaled out of his nose fanned over your face, you had just now realized the kids again. “Satoru, lets sit down. I bet the kids are surprised. “ you motioned to the couch. Gojo whined. “What? They’re not that dumb, they can tell you’re my wife or at least, you’re my girlfriend, just by the way we kiss right? Isn’t this telling enough?” “You didn’t tell them about me, ever did you?” He sighed in defeat, holding tightly onto your arm as you dragged him over and sat down on the comfortable couch, opposite of Yuuji and the crew. Nanami scooched over, before finally getting up to pull another chair from somewhere else. Grunting, he excused himself from the room. “YOU HAD A GIRLFRIEND, GOJO-SENPAI? AND DIDN’T TELL US?” Yuuji questioned, looking like he was about to faint. Gojo laughed, snuggling deeper onto you, almost like a koala. “She’s my wife, aren’t you, sugar? Did you even pay attention to anything Nanami said? He literally said she was my wife.” Megumi made an obvious gagging sound, but even he didn’t seem as bored as he was usually. He actually looked intrigued. “Why didn’t you tell us, Gojo-Senpai?” the girl nagged, slamming her fist down on the table. Gojo smiled, “Uh, well, I wanted it to be a surprise when she came back.” “Couldn’t you have told us that you had a wife or something?” Megumi butt in. The door slid open, Nanami coming in with a wooden stool. “Knowing Gojo-Senpai, that probably went over his head.” grunting as he placed the wooden stool down and sat, he opened his newspaper again. “Where do you guys know eachother?” “Was Gojo-Senpai handsome back in highschool too?” “Do you know what lipgloss Gojo-Senpai wears?” “Gojo-Senpai, how did you know you loved her?” “Gojo-Senpai, can we eat now?” “Do you know why Gojo has such a horrible sweet tooth?” Before you could even respond, Nanami put his hand up. “Now, now, lets let the happy couple settle down.” he cleard his throat, not even making eye contact with anyone but the newspaper. An audible chorus of groans sounded, “What do you expect us to do? We literally just met her!” moaned Yuuji. “Weren’t you the one that literally asked if we could eat yet?” Yuuji immediately shut up afterwards. “Yuuji, she just came back from a 1 day trip. She should be laying down comfortably with Gojo-Senpai and they should be catching up. You’ll have the opportunity to talk to her and learn about her later. Right now she needs space.” “But-” Nobara whined, clasping her hands together. Nanami turned to Fushiguro, but even he had his mind set. “I didn’t even begin to think that Gojo had a wife. I really want to know more about her, if you think about it, this is all Gojo-Sensei’s fault.” Nanami rubbed his temples, staring at the two of you for backup, realizing that you two were making out again. Nanami sighed, 10 years later and you two were still the same.

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Lightning Strikes Across Our Skin

Barry Allen x Lanternsis One-Shot

Word Count: 2K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: This got farther away from me than I meant for it too, but oh well! Enjoy! -Thorne

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

He loved her. He loved her more than anything in the entire multiverse. But when she and her brother got around one another—and truth be told, they were never not around each other; something about Blue and Green Lantern rings working best in each other’s range—they caused more trouble than he liked.

Hal was the antagonizer, and she was the instigator. And when they concocted a plan to get someone into trouble or just to piss someone off, they pulled the plan with perfection; the only thing worse than one Jordan barreling headfirst into danger was a second Jordan following behind with shouts of acclamation.

And poor Barry was stuck between the two of them when they did, like he always was—partially because he was the only one who could keep his best friend out of trouble, and the other part because he was the only one who could keep his girlfriend out of trouble too. That and because wherever a Lantern was, a Speedster was sure to be around too.

***

She slapped her hand against Hal’s chest, flipping the villain the middle finger in hope that it would anger them. “I’ll pay you half my stipend from the air base if you hit Weather Wizard with a lightning bolt.”

He snorted, creating another construct wall as a wave of ice came at them. “Isn’t that Barry’s thing, (Y/N)?”

Her eyes followed along the ground, watching as the yellow blur unraveled another tornado, speeding to another one. “He’s…wound up right now.” She turned, facing Weather Wizard. “C’mon pal! We’ve got better things to do than hang out here! And you’ve got a date in Iron Heights!”

The supervillain all but growled, slinging icicles and hail at her and she raised her arm, a blue aegis forming. The ice shattered against it, and she lowered her wrist. “This isn’t going to end like you want it too.”

“What I want isn’t comprehendible to the likes of you, you blue bitch.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “My name’s not blue bitch, pal.” She flew, landing behind Hal and no words needed to be said between the Jordan siblings as a cyan construct of a jet formed around them; Hal in the front and her behind like it’d always been. Their heads were cloaked in flight helmets. She reached up and flicked a button, listening to the engines roar. “It’s Blue Lantern.”

“Damn straight,” Hal asserted, and they both felt the tug as they sunk back in their seats, the construct hitting Mach one almost instantly.

Weather Wizard didn’t even know what hit him, because when it did, they broke the sound barrier, and even Barry skidded to a halt as the sonic boom shook the city around them; he huffed a laugh of disbelief as Hal did a second flyby and (Y/N) flipped him the bird again.

The construct faded and the two siblings split apart; she pointed to the cyclone Barry was heading for. “Green! Go help Flash! I’ve got this!”

He looked at her. “You sure?” when she nodded, he hesitated, but a quick glance towards Barry made him agree and he flew off.

(Y/N) turned back to the supervillain who was picking himself up off the rooftop of a building, grasping the golden scepter. She lowered down and gazed at him. “This can end right here, Mardon.” Gesturing to the stave, she said, “Give me the staff.”

The cyclone blew in the distance, signaling its end and Weather wizard looked at her. “You want the staff?” he raised it and her eyes followed it into the night sky, watching it churn black and cloudy even in the darkness, thunder rumbling wildly. He had a crazed look in his eyes as he bellowed, “Then take it!” he brought the staff down and (Y/N) barely had time to react as multiple bolts of white-hot lightning shot down, cracking against the concrete roof around them.

She raised her hands, trying to form a shield, but a stray bolt of electricity connected to her ring and just like a rod, she was lit up with strikes. A scream stuck in her throat as the lightning died out and she collapsed onto the roof, the blue suit fading from her body as she smoked.

Someone called her name from above, but she fell into darkness with a blur of red being the last thing she saw.

***

The second she came too, she screamed out in pain as her skin cracked across her body, burned and charred. Someone was holding her shoulder, effectively pinning her down, but only causing more pain.

“(Y/N), don’t move.” It was Barry.

She felt tears roll down her burned cheeks. “It hurts.”

He appeared in her vision, still in his suit, but his cowl off, face torn in despair, eyes heavy with concern. “I know, honey,” he implored. “I know it does, but I need you to stay still. Hal’s coming back with Saint Walker as fast as they can.”

His hand was so tight on her shoulder, and she couldn’t help but screech out, “Let go of me!”

Barry pulled from her as if she’d shot him and his face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, honey.”

(Y/N) didn’t really care what he meant to do, all she cared about was the fact that every inch of her body was covered in third degree burns and though most of her nerve ending were probably seared dead, she still felt the pain licking up her body in waves of never-ending, excruciating agony.

She wailed loudly and it took all Barry had in him not to cradle her in his arms. But all he could do was find a clean cloth and soak it in cool water, gently draping it over her forehead.

“I know, honey,” he whispered. “Just hang on.”

“Put me out,” she begged, and he gaped at her. “Please, put me out.” Her hand shot out and she grabbed his wrist. “Please, Barry.”

He could only gaze at the woman he loved and nod, hurrying away and returning with a syringe full of anesthetic. “I love you,” he promised, sticking the needle into her arm and her head lolled back, eyes rolling into her skull.

***

When (Y/N) came to again, nothing hurt, and she blinked blearily, the ceiling of Barry’s bedroom clearing in her vision. She wiggled her fingers and toes, just to be sure they were still there and that she could move them, then she raised her arm into her sight. It was bare of any burns, and she sighed in relief. Saint Walker must’ve been able to regenerate most of her cells. (Y/N) was going to have to thank him when she got back to Odym.

Her eyes trailed from her arm to the window, and she was surprised to see the sun peeking through the curtains. She must’ve been out for hours.

(Y/N) sat up, glancing down at the state of her dress, and surmising that Barry had removed the remnants of her clothes and replaced them with a pair of his boxers and an old t-shirt. Speaking of Barry, she thought, looking around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the cold, hardwood floor and she stood up, quietly walking out of the bedroom and into the hallway. No sounds emanated from the bathrooms, or the kitchen and her brows furrowed as she walked into the kitchen, confusion giving way to relief when she saw Barry curled up on the couch, a blanket haphazardly thrown down his waist.

Walking over, she sat down on the edge of the sofa, resting a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking as she murmured, “Barry.” He shifted ever so slightly, and she smiled, leaning down to murmur again, this time in his ear, “Flash.”

He jerked, effectively kissing her forehead with his own and (Y/N) recoiled with a shout of pain, dropping onto the floor as she cradled her head. “Jesus fuck, Barry!”

“(Y/N),” he said, blinking, realization setting in as he scrambled to get the cover off his legs. “(Y/N)!”

Barry slammed into her, arms and legs wrapping around her like he was a monkey, and she could only smile as she wrapped her arms around his middle, holding him close. He buried his face in her shoulder and soon she felt the dampness seep through the fabric and onto her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he cried against her shoulder, and she reached up, running her fingers through his short blond hair.

“It’s okay, Barry.”

He pulled away, the tears pouring down his cheeks. “I wasn’t fast enough, and you almost died.”

(Y/N) took his face in her hands. “Hey, hey. Look at me.” He did so and she stated, “I engaged Mardon. What happened was on me, not you.” His lips parted, but she was quick to press her hand to them. “Barry, it wasn’t your fault.”

His blue eyes searched hers and he shook his head, evidently not satisfied with it, but he didn’t speak again, simply tucking her head under his chin, strong arms holding her tighter. “I love you,” he breathed against the crown of her head, and she reached up, running her fingers across his jaw.

“I love you, Barry.”

At some point they’d made it back to the bed, Barry only leaving for a few moments to get something for her to eat and drink, and when she’d finished, he’d curled up behind her, her resting back against his chest.

His hand traced patterns in the exposed skin of her arm and he murmured, “You were whimpering when I put you under.”

(Y/N) hummed, not really remembering much of the night; she’d been delirious. “How bad was it?”

The arm around her waist tightened. “Third degree over most of your body.” He sighed heavily against her head. “Saint Walker was exhausted when he was finished healing you.”

“I’ll have to thank him when I see him again.” She craned her neck, catching his eyes. “And I have you to thank for taking care of me while I was down.” (Y/N) reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. “Thank you, Barry.”

He stared down at her and firmly said, “Don’t do that again. Okay?”

She smiled. “I won’t.” Brushing her fingers over his skin, her thumb caught his lip and she grinned when she felt the stickiness of Chapstick. She pulled away, snorting at his whine of displeasure, and turned, throwing a leg over his hips as she perched herself in his lap.

“Are you wearing Cherry Chapstick?” his response was cut off as she pressed her lips to his, swiping her tongue over his bottom lip. “Mmm,” she moaned. “You are.”

Barry barely had time to grasp at her hips before she was tipping his head back, kissing him harder. “What—what’s up with—Cherry Chapstick?” he panted between kisses, feeling heat coursing through him as she tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck, lips moving in a hot streak down his jaw and neck.

“Tastes good,” she replied, sinking her teeth into his neck and Barry gasped, bucking against her. “Your pulse is racing.”

He couldn’t fight the laugh that bubbled from his throat because he knew she’d said that to get a rise from him. “Honey,” he groaned and kissed him again until they were both gasping for breath.

(Y/N) gazed at her handiwork, Barry with his head resting against the headboard, eyes blown and dazed, lips bruised and kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed a pretty red. She swiped her tongue across her lower lip, smirking when Barry’s eyes followed the movement and murmured, “Tastes like cherries.” Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his, holding back to ask, “Think you can slow down long enough?”

Barry grinned and flipped them, pressing her back into the bed. “I think I can manage that, honey.”

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Anonymous requested: willex and one of them confesses their feelings to the other while sleeping

So I wasn’t 100% sure if I’d understood this right and I had two directions I could go, either of which would have been good, so I did the Right Thing and included both versions of how I interpreted this. It’s a little short, but I love it. I got a random burst of inspiration for it in the middle of a maths exam yesterday so that was fun, and this is what came out of it. Thank you for the prompt!

No Going Back

If there was one thing Alex had become certain of in all the time he’d known Willie, it was that the guy didn’t get nearly enough sleep.

At first Willie’s constant state of being so exhausted that he was hyper had been endearing. Alex had looked forward to receiving that inevitable ‘are you awake?’ text in the darkest hours of every night, thrilled that he was on Willie’s mind, anxious to have a late-night deep conversation or for Willie to show up at his house and whisk him away on a midnight adventure. He had loved the spontaneity that Willie displayed, a by-product of his insomnia that rendered him incapable of figuring out when something was a bad idea – though Alex was still bitter about that time they’d nearly been arrested for breaking into a skatepark after dark, something Willie had sworn was perfectly legal.

He still loved all that about Willie, it wasn’t something he could ever stop loving. Willie was like that – once you loved him there was no going back. But over time Alex had started to worry, as he was wont to do, about how little sleep Willie was getting.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Willie said, not looking up from what he was doing. “What makes you think I didn’t?”

“Nothing,” Alex replied, “just the fact that you’re still wearing the same clothes as last night and there’s a marble run spanning the length of your apartment that definitely wasn’t there yesterday.”

It was mid-morning and Alex was stood in the doorway of Willie’s apartment, peering in through the door at what could only be described as chaos. Willie was stood in the centre of the living room, fiddling with a section of the marble run, his tongue poking out in concentration. All around him, the marble run twisted through the apartment, an explosion of plastic in colours that clashed painfully alongside each other. By the looks of it, the run started atop a light fixture, wound its way through the kitchen (including going inside the fridge and back out again), tracked into Willie’s bedroom, linked back around into the living room, and ended in the perfect position to hit the TV remote’s power button.

It was very obvious to Alex that Willie had spent the whole night trying to find the most complicated way of turning his TV on – getting him to admit it would be the difficult thing.

Willie looked around the apartment, eyes wide as if he was only seeing the marble run for the first time now. He looked utterly bewildered, stumped by his own creative genius.

“Oh,” he said simply. “Yeah, well, I did sleep for a bit. And I also made this. A guy can do two things.”

Alex stepped cautiously into the apartment, shutting the door behind him, being careful not to tread on the marbles that littered the floor. Willie quickly got back to tinkering with his marble run, trying to secure two bits of track together. He was stood on a coffee table up on his tip-toes – Alex moved instinctively behind him to catch him in case he fell.

“Did you really sleep?” he pressed.

“Yes,” Willie insisted. “For, like, an hour maybe. I woke up at about half one.”

Alex checked his watch and felt his jaw go slack in shock. “You’ve been building a marble run for eight hours?”

Although he probably didn’t need to, Willie held onto Alex’s outstretched hands as he lowered himself slowly down from the coffee table. He didn’t let go once he was down, leaving one hand gently slipped into Alex’s. Alex felt his heart beat that little bit faster but ignored the feeling in favour of continuing to worry about Willie’s godawful sleeping habits.

“Not the full eight hours,” Willie told him dismissively. “Probably more like five? I built a domino chain first, and then I had to clear it all up.”

He pointed to a box in the corner of the room that was being used to prop up a good chunk of the marble run and appeared to be filled with an ungodly amount of dominoes. He was smiling triumphantly as if setting up dominoes all night was any different to setting up a marble run.

“You say that like it makes this better, but you’ve still only had one hour’s sleep,” Alex reminded him as Willie tried and failed to stifle a yawn. “I think it’d be a good idea if you got some rest now.”

Willie shook his head. “I’ll be fine, hotdog. One hour is more than enough sleep, I usually get less.”

“That’s not something to be proud of.”

Willie just shrugged, but he wasn’t fooling Alex. In recent weeks, Alex had noticed that Willie’s lack of sleep really seemed to be getting to him. He was sleeping less and less, running on energy drinks and sugar highs, spending his time doing nonsensical things like building colossal marble runs all night instead of at least lying in bed. And Willie was pretending that he was fine, carrying on like it was nothing, but there was something in his eyes that told Alex he was struggling with it more than he would let on.

But now, Willie’s face broke into an excited grin and he squeezed Alex’s hand. “Do you want to test it out?”

In his head, Alex knew he should have insisted that Willie just try and take a nap instead, but he would have been lying if he said he didn’t want to see the end result (after all, there were some loop-the-loops in there and he was quietly curious to see if they’d actually work). So he nodded reluctantly and let Willie pull him to the kitchen where he hoisted himself onto the counter and plonked a marble in the start of the tube.

They watched in awe as the little blue marble rolled its way through all the tubes, flipping around the loops, gathering speed in tight spirals. It was oddly mesmerising and Alex was so caught up in watching it that he forgot he was supposed to be a little annoyed that Willie had made it instead of getting some well-deserved rest.

It was going well, the marble run holding out sturdily, but Alex noticed Willie tense as the marble neared the section he’d been fiddling with when Alex walked in. As the marble ran over that bit of track, there was a catastrophic crash and the entire marble run collapsed around them, raining bits of rainbow-coloured plastic down around the apartment like an avalanche. Alex had covered his head and closed his eyes instinctively, but when he opened them he saw that every inch of the floor was carpeted in bits of marble run and crushed dreams.

The marble dropped to the floor with a pathetic clack, the icing on the cake.

Alex turned to Willie, who was still stood atop the kitchen counter, staring at the wreckage with a completely blank expression. He reached his hand up to hold Willie’s and got nothing in response.

“Willie?” he prompted softly.

“I hate everything,” Willie sighed.

He hopped down from the counter and began trying to pick up bits of the marble run to clear it away. Alex could hardly believe how much of it there was when it wasn’t all stacked together – he couldn’t help but admire Willie for putting it all together, but it was overshadowed by the pity he felt now that it had failed.

Gently, he placed a hand on Willie’s shoulder. Willie instantly broke, his shoulders sagging and his head hanging defeatedly. The bit of track he was holding clattered to the floor.

“You take a nap,” Alex said. He wasn’t asking anymore, he was telling, and truth be told Willie looked like he was ready to fall asleep on his feet. “I’ll pack this away.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Willie said, rubbing at his eyes exhaustedly.

“You’re not asking me, I’m offering. Go on, you need to rest.”

There was a short pause while Willie looked at Alex, something indescribable in his teary eyes. He broke it to say, in a tired voice not quite like his own, “Will you come and stay with me when you’re done?”

Alex smiled softly. “If you want me to then of course I will.”

Willie nodded, eyes already drooping closed, and made his way to his bedroom incredibly slowly as he tried to avoid stepping on any bits of the marble run. Alex began packing it away, and he could hear Willie’s soft snores within minutes.

He spent at least two hours tidying away all the pieces, mainly because for most of that time he was arranging them by size and colour and trying to get them all to fit perfectly in the large container Willie had labelled ‘MARBLES :)’. Eventually though, when the apartment was clear, the final marble plonked into the box, Alex carefully pushed open the door to Willie’s bedroom.

Willie was tucked in underneath the covers, warm and snug, snoring soundly. It appeared he still hadn’t got changed out of yesterday’s clothes, but at least he was finally getting some rest. Alex crouched down by the side of his bed and placed his hand next to Willie’s where it was thrown out exhaustedly across the mattress.

People often thought Alex and Willie were dating, told them they were such a lovely couple, asked about how long they had been together. And every time they would laugh it off, correct whoever had said it, no harm done. But Alex wished that just once he could reply in a very different way, thank them for the compliment, tell them he and Willie had been together for six months or a year or five. Sometimes he suspected that Willie wanted it too – like when he held his hand, or giggled at Alex’s dumb jokes, or smiled in a way that seemed like it was just for him.

But he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

He thought about it now, how if he had been Willie’s boyfriend he could have held him as he slept, run his fingers through his hair, pressed kisses to his forehead until he dozed off. It was probably wishful thinking, but he wondered if he could have helped simply by being Willie’s boyfriend. (He knew the problem ran deeper than that, but he could hope.)

Willie shuffled a bit in his sleep and his hand came to rest atop Alex’s. He felt his breath stutter and hitch in his throat.

“I hope you can’t hear me,” Alex said quietly before he even knew he was going to say anything, “because all I want to tell you right now is that I love you. And I don’t know if that’s what you want to hear. But it’s true – I love you, Willie, and I’m always going to be right here when you need me.”

There was the briefest moment of silence in which neither of them moved and all Alex could hear was the thumping of his own heart. He couldn’t tell if Willie was fully asleep, and he wasn’t certain if he wanted that or not. He wanted Willie to know how he felt, he just didn’t want to tell him.

But after that moment, Willie’s hand clutched weakly at Alex’s, and he breathed, “I love you too.”

It was so quiet Alex thought he might have imagined it. He blinked, leaned a little closer as if Willie might say it again, but he was already back to sleep. Alex wanted to shake him awake, tell him again, make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

He didn’t though. That conversation could wait until Willie was awake. Instead, Alex sat himself down on the floor next to the bed, hand still in Willie’s, head resting against the mattress, and let Willie finally get the sleep he so deserved.

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @teammightypen @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh

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eminems-skittles · 3 years

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please don’t let go [spencer reid x reader]

spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: this focuses heavily on depression so read at your own caution word count: 4.1k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

It wasn't hard for her to tell when it was getting bad again. It was a gradual change but she could always tell when it was happening. It'd start off small, she'd have trouble forcing a smile around her friends. Her friends never seemed to notice the difference between her fake smile or her real smile, but even if they did, they didn't remark. After awhile, she would lose motivation for work and her efforts became minimal. She stopped putting effort into her appearance. Her normal makeup was replaced with chapstick, if she could be bothered to put it on, and her dresses and heels were replaced with sneakers and comfier clothes. When it gets really bad, she is unable to pull herself from the shelter her bed provides her, not moving for days at a time, with the exception of using the bathroom and getting food. During those times, her mind was held hostage by the negative thoughts.

The BAU team noticed something was off the first day she started wearing the facade. They often reached out to her when they noticed something was off but they were met with the same answer every time. 'I'm fine, just tired.' They knew she wasn't fine but they didn't want to push. She wasn't a very private person, sharing almost everything with the team, except for this. They decided that if Y/N didn't want to share this, then they shouldn't force her too. The team only hoped that she would come to them if things got really bad. Hotch was the only one who knew what Y/N was dealing with, as she disclosed it during her interview. After he knew she was the one for the job, he helped Y/N make an arrangement with Strauss so that she could take days off when it got really bad. When Strauss asked why Hotch was pushing to hire her, he told her that no one should be looked over simply because they have a mental illness. The deal was that when she could, she'd be at work and when she had to take days off, she'd do as much as possible at home. Y/N tried to be at work as much as possible, only working from home if she felt it would be too much to handle.

While she was normally able to somewhat predict when the harsh cycle would start again, there were often times when it would just hit her full force without warning. She was currently experiencing an unexpected 'episode' and there was nothing she could do to fix it. The team was currently on their way to work on a case in a small town in Illinois.She had never been on a case when she felt her lowest, always opting to stay back and assist with Penelope, or just working from home. By now, she knew the cycle. It would only be a matter of a few days before she would find herself immobilized by anxiety and depression. She could only hope that the case would be over in time for her to climb into bed and wait out the storm. The team of profilers were beginning to notice the signs too. They noticed how she was withdrawn from conversation and how she wouldn't attend outings with them unless it was for the case. On the jet, Y/N didn't give her usual input or witty remark. She sat silent, her head leaning against the window, silently observing and taking notes, already feeling drained of energy. Spencer watched his best friend intently to see if she was just tired or if she was falling back into the cycle.

He knew the signs better than most of the team. In fact he was the first one to point out that something might be wrong. He was able to spot the fake smile, because he had been the cause of the real smile on more occasions than he count on both hands. Spencer noticed when she didn't put as much as effort into her appearance, when her (y/h/c) wasn't curled or styled but thrown into a messy ponytail. Not that it mattered to him, he thought she looked beautiful whether she wore a ball gown or sweats and a hoodie. He was the only one who would visit her when she was at home, always volunteering to deliver the case file to her. She often wouldn't answer but when she did, his heart would break. Her eyes would be red and puffy, with dark purple bags under them, and the joy they held just days before, would be replaced with an empty gaze. He never pushed her to tell him what was wrong, but he knew what was happening.

Y/N had avoided speaking to anyone for the whole flight. It wasn't something she did on purpose but she was so lost in her own mind she didn't hear when people were calling her name or asking her questions. It wasn't until Spencer put his hand on her knee that she snapped back into reality. She shot a small, embarrassed smile Spencer's way, silently apologizing for being out of it.

"We landed, Y/N/N," Spencer said quietly. He watched as a shocked look crossed Y/N's features. She quickly looked around the jet only to find that they were the only two still occupying it.

"Oh, sorry for making you wait," Y/N said, so softly Spencer almost didn't hear it. She grabbed her bag before getting off of the jet with Spencer following closely behind her. 'I zoned out for the entire flight?' Y/N asked herself, bewildered by the fact she could get so lost in her mind that she didn't notice the plane landing. Y/N and Spencer climbed into one of the SUV's. They sat in the back while Emily and Rossi sat up front. Emily sent Y/N a sympathetic smile, having noticed the withdrawn behavior of her friend. Y/N smiled back, trying her best to force a convincing smile on her face.

The car ride to the first crime scene was relatively quiet, with the exception of a few comments about the town from Rossi, witty remarks from Emily and a few facts from Spencer. Y/N silently observed, not feeling anything she had to say was important enough to share. She saw the looks Spencer and Emily shared when they had gotten to the car. 'You're such a burden to them. They don't want to deal with you and your mood swings.' She thought to herself, and a frown settled on her face. She looked out the window, already dreading the case.

When they got to the crime scene, Emily and Rossi went to speak with the local police and Spencer and Y/N investigated the crime scene. Y/N opted to search through books and personal belongings while Spencer investigated the area where the body was found.

"Spencer," Y/N said, in almost a whisper when she found something. "Can you look at this? I think it might be helpful." She knew what she found was helpful but she second guessed herself.

"Yeah, let me see," Spencer said, jogging over to her. He grabbed the book from Y/N and read the page she had the book open on. The page had a passage that was highlighted blue. "What do you see?"

"See, this passage is highlighted, which isn't weird if you flip through the rest of the book. But this is the only thing highlighted blue. Someone who takes notes as diligently as this person did wouldn't change the color they used. It would throw off their whole balance," Y/N rambled, stopping when she noticed Spencer staring at her, a smile on his face. "Sorry." She said quietly. She thought Spencer was smiling because she was making a mistake. 'He thinks you're stupid.' The thought alone was enough to throw her through a loop.

"What for?" Spencer asked her, but she just shook her head and didn't answer. "I'll send this back to the department so we can analyze it more closely. Did you see anything else like this?"

Y/N shook her head, and Spencer frowned. "I can take it with me. I need to go talk to Hotch," Y/N said, desperately avoiding eye contact with Spencer.

"Is everything okay?" Spencer knew it was a question he shouldn't have asked, knowing she wasn't going to reply honestly. Y/N just muttered "i'm fine." almost as if she was trying to convince herself everything was okay, before going to find Rossi to ask for a ride back to the station. Emily walked over to Spencer, a concerned look on her face.

"Is Y/N okay?" Emily asked, her eyes shifting to watch Y/N and Rossi having a quiet conversation, before getting in the car to wait for the other two agents.

"I don't know. She's falling back into the same patterns," Spencer stated simply. Emily nodded solemnly. Spencer decided to change the subject. "Did you guys find anything?"

Emily shook her head. "The locals aren't too happy we are here and they don't want to help up out. We're heading back right now."

Spencer and Emily joined the other two in the car. The ride back to the station was silent except for the low hum of the radio. Spencer found himself sneaking glances at the (y/h/c) agent. She had her head leaning against the window and her eyes were scrunched closed. He was almost positive she was trying to push the overwhelming thoughts away, as he had been there so many times himself. The car went over a speed bump which caused Y/N's eyes to snap open. She looked down at her lap, sniffling quietly, before looking over at Spencer, smiling halfheartedly when she saw he was already looking at her. He reached out to grab her hand that was resting on the seat next to her and squeezed it gently. The gesture, while small, made Y/N's heart soar and grounded her for just a few seconds. She craved more of his touch, longing for him to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. Much to her dismay, he moved his hand away from hers shortly after they pulled into the parking lot of the police station.

As soon as the four agents were inside the station, Y/N made a bee line to the small conference room that Hotch was in. He was talking to the lead local detective on the case, when Y/N walked in the small room. Hotch asked the detective if he could excuse the two for a minute. The detective nodded before exiting the room, greeting Y/N with a 'hello ma'am' when he walked past her.

"Is everything okay?" Hotch asked, taking in Y/N's broken and tired expression. Y/N could have laughed at the question, obviously everything wasn't okay.

"Um, no-not exactly," Y/N's voice shook as she spoke. "I just...I just wanted to let you know that it's starting again."

Hotch's face softened. "Do you need to head back?"

"No, I can stay. I just wanted to let you know," Y/N said.

"Okay, but I want you to let me know if it gets worse," Hotch said.

"I will," Y/N said quietly. Hotch looked at her with sympathy in his eyes, placing a hand on her shoulder. It was his way of showing he was there for her.

After their conversation, the team filed into the room to come up with different theories about the unsub. They worked several different angles, trying to figure out the connection between the victims. They took a break to eat dinner before delving back into their work. The entire time, Y/N tried to keep herself busy, hoping that if she was busy enough, she could keep the negative thoughts at bay.

"Hotch, it's almost eleven. Why don't we call it a night?" Derek asked, pushing the file that he was holding away from his face. The team let out sighs of agreeance.

"Yeah, we've done as much as we can tonight. Go get some rest and we'll look at this with fresh eyes," Hotch dismissed the team. Everyone gathered their stuff before leaving the police station.

Y/N decided to hang back for a second to gather her thoughts. She sat at the conference table and rested her head in her hands, taking a deep breath. It had been a long, tiring, and mentally draining day to say the least.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, causing Y/N to jump at least three feet in the air. She sighed heavily. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. And I know you're probably sick of hearing that question, but I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You seemed out of it today."

"I thought you went back to the motel," Y/N said not bothering to make eye contact and completely dodging his question. She knew that if she did, there'd be nothing stopping her from launching herself into his arms.

"I did. But I noticed you weren't there. I wanted to make sure you didn't kidnapped by our unsub," Spencer said, eliciting a small laugh from Y/N. "Are you ready to head back to the motel?"

Y/N nodded, grabbing all of her stuff and heading over to where Spencer stood by the door. "Okay, let's go."

Spencer and Y/N left the small station before crossing the street and entering the rundown motel. Spencer and Y/N's rooms were right next to each other on the second floor.

"Goodnight Spencer," Y/N said when they reached her room.

"Goodnight Y/N," Spencer smiled at her softly. Once again, he grabbed her hand gently and squeezed it. "If you need anything, I'm here for you."

"Thank you, Spence," Y/N said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. She blinked them back before Spencer could see them. "I'll see you tomorrow morning okay?"

Spencer nodded, watching Y/N retreat into the dark motel room. After he made sure she was safe inside the room, he went to his room. Spencer changed into his pajama's and instantly fell asleep.

His sleep was cut off by his phone ringing loudly on the nightstand next to his bed. He looked at the clock and groaned when the red numbers showed the time being twelve thirty.

"Hello," Spencer said, not bothering to check the caller I.D.

"Spencer?" Y/N's voice came through the speaker. Spencer shot up instantly when he heard how sad and broken she sounded. "Ca-Can you come to my room? I really don't want to be alone right now."

"Yeah, I'm coming right now," Spencer said, rushing out of his room and over to her door. "I'm outside."

He waited for a minute before the door opened and he hung up the call. His heart broke when he saw her with tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight before him reminded him of the times he would drop of case files for her. Except this time he'd be able to comfort his best friend instead of standing idly by, watching her mind destroy herself. Y/N opened the door enough for Spencer to walk into the cramped motel room, and shut the door when he was inside.

Y/N practically launched herself into Spencer's arms and held on for dear life. Spencer immediately held her, his arms going around her torso. Y/N dug her head into the crook of his neck and Spencer felt her tears sliding onto his neck.

"I can't take it anymore," Y/N whispered, her voice breaking as she held Spencer as close as she possibly could. He pressed several kisses to the top of her head.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, that you've been dealing with this all by yourself. I wish there was a way I could take the pain away. I'll do anything you need me to do to help," Spencer said quietly, against her hair.

"Please don't let go." Y/N whispered desperately.

Spencer's face softened and he hugged her tighter, if that was even possible. "I won't. I promise."

They stood in each other's embrace for a few minutes. Spencer would rub Y/N's back and kiss the top of her head whenever she let out a strangled sob. His heart broke for his best friend, wishing he could take away all the pain she was feeling.

"Let's sit down," Spencer suggested. He lead Y/N to the bed, pulling her into his lap. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not yet," Y/N said, her voice gravelly. "It's too much to talk about right now. I'm sorry for waking you up."

"Love, I wouldn't have been able to sleep knowing you're hurting the way you are. I'm here for you, day or night," Spencer said. One of his hands rubbed her knee gently, and she snuggled closer to his chest. "Do you want me to stay the night?"

"Yes, please. I need you here." Y/N begged. "If that's okay."

"It's more than okay, my love," Spencer said, his hand still tracing shapes on her knee. "I know it's been a really hard day for you, darling. Why don't you try to get some sleep? I'll be here when you wake up."

"Thank you, Spence," Y/N whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I don't know how I would have got through today without you."

"I'll always be here. I know I won't be able to make bad days go away completely, but I want to help as much as I possibly can. I hate seeing you so broken because of your mind. And I've been there too, so please don't ever hesitate to ask me for help," Spencer said, finishing his little rant by kissing her nose.

"I know I keep saying it, but thank you, Spence," Y/N said, her voice laced with sleep. "We should probably go to sleep, we have to be up in a few hours."

Spencer and Y/N moved so Spencer was laying on his back and Y/N was laying on his chest. His arms stayed wrapped around her torso, and hers around his neck.

"Spence," Y/N paused, and Spencer hummed in response. "Can you tell me a story? I don't care what it's about, just wanna hear you talk."

"Of course, my love," Spencer said. "Do you want to hear the story of when I knew I was in love?"

"In love with who?" Y/N said, her voice muffled by his shoulder. She was already enjoying the distraction his voice offered.

"You'll just have to see. Do you want to hear it or not?" Spencer asked. Y/N nodded, her nose brushing his shoulder. "Okay, good. So it was a blustery day in October, and the sun was nowhere to be found. It almost felt like it should have been raining. We were working a case in Oregon, the one with the unsub who was going to different inn's...." Spencer decided not to include the gory details. "We went to one of the crime scenes, just you and me. We were inspecting the property and there were leaves all over the ground. The trees had just changed colors. I could go into the science behind why the leaves change colors, but I'll spare you the boring details. It was a beautiful day, really. The trees stood out with their orange leaves against the gray sky. And you, you looked as beautiful as ever. You were wearing your giant hoodie, the dark gray one that goes to your knees and everyone tells you not to wear it when we go on cases but you still do. Your hair was just thrown up in a messy ponytail."

Y/N was fighting sleep so she could listen to the story. Her heart swelled when she heard him call her beautiful. She remembered the day he was talking about. It was one of her favorite days she ever spent with him.

"You were walking ahead of me, looking all around you and pointing out the things you thought were interesting. I found myself wishing that we weren't on a case but rather staying at the quaint inn on a romantic vacation together and exploring the area. At point, I just stopped and watched you explore. You turned around and saw me just standing there and when you asked what I was looking at, the smile on your face was so big, it made me smile. I had to come up with an excuse so fast, I told you I was tying my shoes. When you heard that, you looked down at my shoes to see I wasn't wearing shoes with laces. But you just laughed and walked over to me. You grabbed my hand and led me over to something interesting you found. You didn't let go of my hand until we left the forest, which wasn't until almost an hour later. I remember thinking, 'I'm going to marry her someday.' We weren't even remotely together, just two best friends who work together. Hell, we still aren't together, but that's on me because I haven't had the courage to admit my feelings. I know this isn't the best time to do this, but I figured the story would cheer you up. I love you, Y/N."

"Oh Spence, I love you too" Y/N said, her voice filled with so much love. "That was one of my favorite days we ever spent together. That was the first time you let me hold your hand. That day got me through so many bad days, you have no idea. A-Are you sure you want this though? I'm a lot to handle, especially on the really bad days."

"Y/N, I love you, with all my heart. And I would do anything for you. I know this isn't going to be easy, but I want to be there for the good days, the bad days, and the really bad days," Spencer said, placing his hand on her cheek. "Please let me be there for you."

Y/N leaned into Spencer's hand, her eyes sliding shut. "I want nothing more than for us to be together."

"Can I kiss you?" Spencer asked, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. Y/N nodded, leaning in as he leaned in also. The kiss was soft, caring and full of love. Words, said and unsaid, were communicated through the short kiss. They pulled away shortly after. Spencer whispered "Wow," against her lips before leaning in and kiss her again.

"I love you, Spence," Y/N said. "Thank you, again, for being here for me."

"I love you, too. You're welcome, darling," Spencer replied. "How are you right now?"

"I'm doing better. Still not great, but you made a really bad day just a bad day. Which, trust me, is a huge improvement," Y/N said, smiling at him.

She honestly could not believe how much of a difference he had made in such a short amount of time. She had spent so long suffering by herself and locking away her emotions so now one would see them and she wished she had went to Spencer for help and comfort sooner.

Spencer held her as close as he possibly could, reaching over to shut the light off. "I'd do it all over again, love. Now let's go to sleep now. And we will handle whatever tomorrow has in store. Together."

"Okay, just promise me one thing," Y/N said. "Promise me you'll never let me go. No matter how hard things get."

She knew it was kind of dumb to say, knowing Spencer would never let her go. But the words held a deeper meaning, one she didn't have to explain because he understood. She was asking him to never let her become too trapped in her mind. Asking him to save her if she ever needed saving.

"I'll never, ever let you go, my love. You won't be able to get rid of me." Spencer said, kissing her once more. Y/N smiled into the kiss, which caused Spencer to smile.

"Goodnight, Spence," Y/N said, yawning. She dug her head into the crook of his neck, before falling asleep. Spencer fell asleep once he felt her body relax, happy she was finally getting a break from the tiring thoughts that had occupied her mind the whole day.

#cassie's masterlist #{ writing }#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #{ criminal minds }#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

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Saeran’s Passport Package

I’ve been waiting since the 19th to get my hands on this baby and I’m glad that it got here today. It took me a little bit to sit down and go through everything cause I wanted to cry about it the entire time.

Spoilers Ahead, everyone. So, if you’re not interested in seeing what’s in the Passport set AFTER the events of Saeran’s After Ending, then do not click Read More, got it? I’ve made it clear to you. I will say that it’s worth the money if you’re debating buying it.

So, we can go over the contents in the box, first as an overview. You receive a letter stamped with a cute sticker as well as the passport itself which holds the notes that Saeran’s been taking and drawing since this all started. I just think that’s cute. My brain said don’t open that passport until we review the letter first so, why don’t we go over the letter first? The little details are really cute. There’s just so many stamps on this baby.

The little touches are what sell it. You’ve got this man putting his love all over it and there’s a CUTE NOTE of CATS. Sir, was that a touch to Saeyoung? I know you know that your brother is a dork. Homage to brother who is an idiot but too glaringly obvious. It got a chuckle out of me. I know this man, and it’s just getting to me.

The passport itself is also really cute. It has the art from the promo banner but instead of everyone hustling around together, there’s new poses and all of that jazz. Jaehee isn’t rushing around. Zen’s got a selfie stick, no surprise on that front. Jumin just chilling. Seven and Yoosung... doing what they do best and you know it. RUN, YOOSUNG, RUN.

Saeran and MC... being cute on the inside made me go, “Aw!” Ice cream. They can really just put ice cream and it’s going to make me cry, huh? Really? Is that how easy this is? Am I a joke to you, Cheritz? Is that what this is?

Now, if you want to talk about the contents in the letter, you get this sheet that is listed in three languages, surprised me, Korean, Spanish, and English, and it lets you tick off little things that you like to do. An itinerary sheet. I feel like this is purely Jumin crafting these. It asks about Cats. Literally. Cats. Wine? Yeah, this is on Jumin. You always come in flex, Jumin, but oh boy, I’m chuckling over here at these little touches.

You get 2 boarding passes. One with Saeran’s name and one with a blank to fill in your name. I thought that was cute. Tying in that with the CG of the passes in the game with this just makes it more real to me. I’m holding this in my hands and it just makes my immersion feel much more real than it did when I was holding my phone in my hand and playing this out.

I think merch like this just makes you feel more apart of the story then you do when you’re able to talk and chat, you know? If you really like feeling like you are involved with the game, this is how you do it. You wanna know how I know that Jumin is the one setting this up with Saeran? Flip over the fucking passport and you realize that Elizabeth is on the back.

I’m still laughing.

I’m trying to imagine this and now, like, I’m starting to see why Jaehee is so damn tired because Elizabeth really is on everything that he can get his hands on and she’s good too many files to sort through when it comes to whatever the photographers take of her. Jumin can’t take photos. He’s either got Jihyun to do this for him at some point, or he’s straight up hiring photographers for her cause he can’t do it.

I mean, we all know that Jumin will put Elizabeth everywhere but I just— It’s on the BOARDING PASSES? JUMIN!

There’s also a postcard within the letter that is once more, written in all three aforementioned languages. Saeran says that it feels like a dream when he is with you, like this is where he’s always meant to be. His promise of happiness is made truest when he’s with you. I teared up a little. I know that he means well when he does that but damn, does it take an arrow to the heart every single time he does it.

Saeran put a lot of thought into this in a very short amount of time. I know that he did this plan likely with the idea that he may not be able to go with us but he wanted us to be able to see the world for him. You know, how he implied that he wanted Saeyoung to see things for him? To live for him? Even if he was dead, he wanted Saeyoung and the player to be happy and free.

The blurred state on those... doesn’t have names. It doesn’t name Saeran in this photo.

The implication of his sacrifice with the boarding passes kind of hurts because this is a side note of the fact that Saeran Did Not Know If He Would Live To See This Through. He made it thinking maybe.. if things worked out, it would be an okay future, but this was... God. I just. I’m thinking about the weight of the AE and what that felt like. I almost glossed over the Boarding Pass because I was just so upset with him.

I’m the type to try to sacrifice myself for others, too. I have that in common with Saeyoung and Saeran.

I think that we’d argue over who should die for the others and while that’s macabre, it’s just the kind of people that we are. We love these people so much that we’re willing to die if they’re safe and sound. Knowing that, I understand what Saeran tried, and even what Saeyoung tries, but it’s hard cause I want to make sure they’re happy in comparison to myself.

This is where being selfless is a bad thing.

Does anyone know what a big deal it is for Saeran to have a passport? He’s never had an ID or paperwork in his entire life. If he did, he would’ve been killed, so would his brother. They’re both never had IDs. Unless you count the ones from the Agency and Mint Eye. They’ve got them in the Believer box with their names and faces, but that’s not official. That’s not paperwork that everyone else has. That’s just...

You know?

Seeing this tangible thing in my hands is a testament to Saeran Choi being alive and thriving. He’s not afraid of showing his face. He’s living. He’s a free man and nobody can kill him for existing. Does that not weigh on anyone here? It hit me and I wanted to cry. I might break down thinking about this later because I just take this too seriously. Look at him. Look at HIM. Okay? Did you look? Now, LOOK AGAIN.

Okay, I’m not going to share every single page inside of the passport but I will give you little snippets of the journey ahead and show you what he writes and draws. Yes, he’s drawing. I knew that he was talented because he is great at doodling and drawing, but he knows how to have such a cute style that I want to gush about and he probably has no clue about how cute it is because nobody’s ever told him!

Okay, so the trip is broken up over a few months and into segments. You know how I was surprised by the 3 languages? Yes, this passport is written in three languages and it stays that way. It implies that Saeran knows English and Spanish, or at the very least, he’s been studying them, I get that it’s kind of a neat tie in to make sure that all languages are included but I only English and I can only read Spanish, I suck at conversational Spanish, so I could only read the English and Spanish sections.

So, if anyone wants to throw in what the Korean segments say, please do. I have a rough idea, but it’d be nice to know. The first segment of the trip is spent traveling over Korea. You see the things that he packed in the bag!

I almost had a heart attack because I thought the vitamins were Caffeine Pills. I was about to beat my Husband and make him go to bed. Thin ice, Saeran. Thin ice, the Special Believer package implied you take more then ten and I want you to go the fuck to sleep at night.

He packed his hanbok! Look! You remember? From the title screen event? The blue shirt is the one that he matches with MC in. There’s so much I’m screaming about it.

It shows you things that you do. Like, biking, karaoke, gardens... is there a locket bridge in Korea? You know? If you put them together on a bridge, it’s said that your love lasts forever. I forget where that came from but I guess there must be one in South Korea, too. Oh, and food. Can you believe that he can eat whatever he wants now? I’m sobbing.

Please.

HE’S IN HANBOK. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

Okay, here’s the thing. I only have one gripe with the Passport Package and I’m going to say this again at the end, but I really wish that they had included big photos for this because the Passport itself it rather small and I wish that I could have bigger photos of this. It’s my only complaint. Literally, it’s the only thing I have to say about the box that will affect my rating. Look, we’re doing cheesy couple stuff!

HE’S DOING THE HEART THING WITH HIS HANDS.

A KISS.

KISS.

GUSHING.

DYING. HELP. ME.

God, I wish I wasn’t broke. I would commission someone to do this for my MC.

The second and third portion of the trip are spent in the U.S.A. and Mexico, I was so surprised by that! New York and Hawaii specifically are what they name and I was. Well, those are really far apart, huh. I mean, those are very popular spots. I’m not surprised. I’m chuckling because he’s got matching outfits.

Saeran Choi, you really want the embarrassing couple look, don’t you? Well, if it’s for you, I’d do it. Did... Saeyoung or Jumin set us up, are we fucking loaded? There’s mad bank here.

Saeran and MC basically are living per Jumin and Saeyoung, to be honest, because Saeran’s never had a job and MC is... your MC literally agrees to go and test a game in the woods, how good can our lives be? I’m broke, boy. I ain’t got nothing. So, I like to think that those two are offering to let Saeran be as happy and free as he wants. No expense. Like, kindness. The RFA is too damn much, I’m gonna cry. I’m starting to understand why the RFA didn’t hear from us for months.

The final Check-In with the RFA is set 6 Months after the events that take place when we save Saeran. The events of this Passport cover 3 months. So, we go back to Korea after this adventure and met up with Saeyoung, because we know that we’re hanging out with him in the conclusion. So, if they haven’t really heard from us, that means that we’ve been traveling more with him.

I kind of like that.

We’re spending time with Saeran alone and time with the brothers together, and that’s sweet! I love that. I need to write more about it.

I’m trying not to laugh about this Mexico portion but it looks like he passed out from an ice tea... lemonade...? It’s surely not alcohol. Maybe too much sugar, I know that crash can hurt. I’ve been there. I just know that you’re not implying the man with alcohol trauma is gonna drink. Nope. Neither he nor Saeyoung ever will do that. I stand by that statement and I’ll die by that statement. Bite me my tongue if I’m wrong, but I stand by that.

Saeran is at least mindful of the sun. He’s also made notes that the perfect time for sunset is 18:34. Cute. He notes that it’s time for the Day of the Dead as well, so that’s fun!

IS THAT A FUCKING V CACTUS—

TWO V CACTUS—

There’s actually a portion in here where he asks you certain questions and you have the space to fill in it. I like that it’s interactive.

Do you have favorites sweets? Are there things about yourself that you hide? Did you make sure to ask Santa what you wanted? I’m wheezing. The food doodles are one thing, and the Christmas photo is one thing, but he really drew himself as a butterfly and the MC as a bug catcher.

“CATCH ME, MC.”

Help me.

I’m laughing so hard.

Saeran, you fucking goofball.

And, the last page of the passport is us assumedly returning home with all kinds of trinkets and gifts. Flower crown, snow globe, cactus, hats, listen, there’s a lot of details in this photos that I really wish I could have it blown up.

That’s really my only complaint about the Passport Package. I really want to have bigger photos that are shared. I wouldn’t have minded if it was the photo of the final CG in the game, or the Christmas photo, I really would have enjoyed getting that to have for myself.

You know? The passport itself is roughly like 5 x 7 or so, so while it’s not big, it’s still like. I would love to see the details blown up. It’s smaller then the diary, that I know for sure. I think it’s the only thing stopping from giving Cheritz a 10/10 on this item.

I’m going to have to give them a 9.8/10 simply because it feels like we are lacking one big photo.

I guess I’ll print my favorite CGs and decorate my room like that. But, all and all, I really enjoyed reading this and it made it feel like I was there and I was able to reflect on Saeran’s vacation with the player. Like, he was doing this as we were going using his little doodles... I’m in love with this fucking sap. I’d say that this is worth the money.

For sure.

My only gripe aside. That’s a personal problem, not really a content problem. I love this bastard.

Look at him, he’s GOT A PLUSHIE. I have so many things that I want to write about now thanks to this. Saeran, darling, sweetie, my love, I am dying. Either way, I’m glad this arrived when it did. I needed this. I justified getting this for myself because I don’t expect to get anything for my birthday in early February but I’m happy I have him.

It’s been five years since I found this game in August 2016. I’m happy that it’s been here with me.

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wondernimbus · 4 years

Text

crush — harry potter

pairing: harry potter x female!reader

prompt: harry works up the courage to talk to his crush.

please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

Unbeknownst to the girl sitting in the farthermost corner of the library, the sun has long since set in the horizon to give way to the moon that now hangs in the midnight blue sky. Numerous stars twinkle from up above, shining upon the Hogwarts castle; it paints a breathtaking, almost otherworldly view. One could glance up at the night sky for a brief moment and find themselves unable to tear their eyes away from it.

But the night sky is not what [Y/N] finds herself immersed in. What has her full attention—what has had her full attention for the past five hours now, is the book she holds in her hands: Mind-Boggling Mysteries in Magical History by Atasha Iqinn. It has nine hundred pages worth of exactly what its title states—strange mysteries in the wizarding world that have gone down in history for their oddity—and [Y/N] is already on page 783.

Just like every other weekend trip to the Hogwarts library, [Y/N] has spent a much longer time than intended in the vicinity of the countless bookshelves. She'd told herself that she'd only stay to read for a little while—two hours at most—but five have passed and [Y/N] still hasn't quite snapped herself out of her state of reverie. It's just so easy to lose herself in the abundance of books that Hogwarts has to offer; she'd pluck one out from a bookshelf, skim over its contents briefly, and if she found it to be interesting enough, she would sit down at her favorite table—the one right by the window in the farthest corner—and read.

And she would read for hours and hours until someone—most likely Madame Pince—tapped her on the shoulder and ushered her out.

Today, though, it's not Madame Pince.

—

"Stop it, Ron—"

"Come on, mate—don't be a wuss—"

"Shut up—I'm not being a wuss—it'd be weird if I just went up to her and—bloody hell, stop it!"

Ron stops dragging Harry by the arm and drops his hands to his sides. The pair of them are standing, very poorly hidden behind a bookshelf, near the Ravenclaw girl reading a book in the corner—the same one Harry has been helplessly crushing on for, what, two months now?

It had all started when Harry stumbled upon her in the Hogwarts Express in search for Ron and Hermione. He'd opened a random compartment door and, despite the fact that there were two other Ravenclaws in the compartment, she'd captured his attention first. Up to now, Harry can still vaguely recall the feeling of being dumbstruck by how—well—downright pretty she was.

Harry can't quite call it love at first sight, but he certainly does like her. Is "like at first sight" a thing?

Ever since that very brief encounter on the Hogwarts Express, Harry has only seen her around the castle once or twice. They don't have any classes together since apparently she's older than him by a year, but what Harry has noticed is that she is almost always in the library.

So naturally, Harry has now become a bit of a bookworm as well. Not because of a love for reading, but because of a particularly pretty fourth-year Ravenclaw.

He'd pass by the library under the pretense of checking out a book just to catch a glimpse of her. He'd spend his free periods there reading the same book over and over just so he has an excuse to be in her presence, albeit he always sits at a table at least ten feet away from her. Ron and Hermione have, of course, noticed, but Hermione isn't nearly as insistent as Ron is being about it.

E.g. right now: Harry has quickly realized that bringing Ron along to the library had been a very, very big mistake. He'd been planning on doing his regular [Y/N]-admiring routine (Merlin, that sounds weird) today, but Ron keeps pestering him to go say hi to her.

Which, of course, is absolutely ridiculous. Harry has never even considered actually trying to befriend her, much less talk to her. He's content with staring at her from afar, thank you very much, no wonder how weird that makes him seem. He's not the type to make a move. Never has—never will be.

But Ron isn't quite helping with that. Harry swats his hand away when Ron makes a move to grab his arm again, presumably to physically drag him over to [Y/N].

"Bugger off, Ron," he hisses, taking a quick peek behind the bookshelf to look at [Y/N], who is still as engrossed with her book as ever.

Ron snorts loudly. "Don't tell me you can face bloody You-Know-Who but not talk to a crush."

Harry scowls. "This is different." Ron has a point—but he's not about to admit that. "What if I asked you to go confess your undying love for Hermione?"

Ron's mouth falls open; it isn't long before his cheeks turn into a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair. “Undying love?" he repeats incredulously, opening and closing his mouth like a fish blown out of water. "Undying love—that's ridiculous. I don't love Hermione—I don't like her either—that's just weird.. that's like liking—I don't know—McGonagall or something," he shudders dramatically, but the blush on his cheeks says otherwise.

Harry stares at his best friend, amused, and then reaches out to pat his shoulder. "Whatever you say, mate."

Ron frowns. "I don't—what—" huffing, he realizes that it would be better to just stay silent at this point. With his eyes skittering away, he mumbles something about "crushes.. Hermione.. bloody mental".

Harry finally chooses a random book and removes it from the shelf—The Wizard's Cookbook by Ellis Ephodal. "Come on, let's sit—and for the love of Merlin, don't do anything dodgy.."

"Dodgy in what way?" Ron asks, carelessly plucking a book from a shelf that he and Harry pass by on their way to Harry's regular table.

"Don't start waving to her or something," Harry narrows his eyes at him, taking a seat on the chair facing [Y/N], who remains completely oblivious to the two Gryffindors whispering about her a mere few feet away.

"Ha, as if you're not being dodgy," Ron mutters, sitting opposite him and flipping to a random page in his book. "Sitting here spying on her on a daily basis.."

It's Harry's turn to blush. "I'm not spying on her," he protests, his eyes momentarily darting to [Y/N] over Ron's shoulder. "I'm just.."

"Stalking her?" Ron snickers.

Harry shoots him a look. "No. Quit yapping, she might hear you."

Ron looks over his shoulder—or perhaps that's an understatement, because he quite literally twists his entire body around in his seat to look at [Y/N]. Harry gapes at him, reaching over the table to smack his head—and successfully doing so.

"Ow!"

From somewhere in the library, Madame Pince says, "Shhh!"

Clutching his head, Ron turns back to face Harry and glowers at him. "That hurt."

"Sorry," whispers Harry, but the deadpan look on his face makes it very clear that he doesn't mean it. "Did you really have to turn around like that?"

Ron rolls his eyes, still massaging the spot where Harry hit him. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. I could start stripping right now and she wouldn't even notice."

Once again, Ron has a point. But once again, Harry isn't going to admit that to him. The utterly focused look on [Y/N]'s face gives the impression that even if the castle were to start crumbling right then and there, she wouldn't even bat an eye.

Harry and Ron finally fall silent for a few minutes, but isn't long before Ron starts up again and goes, "You know what—"

Harry's eyes dart away from [Y/N] to look at Ron. "Be quiet."

Ron ignores him. "I'm tired of this. As your best mate, I'm telling her you fancy her." Without waiting for an answer, Ron slams his book shut with a loud thud ("Shhhh!" says Madame Pince's voice) and rises to his feet.

"What are you doing—"

"Being a good friend," says Ron matter-of-factly, rolling his shoulders back like he's about to get into a fistfight. "No need to thank me."

With gritted teeth, Harry's eyes dart around the library before he practically dives over the table and grabs Ron's arm, tugging him back down to his seat. "Sit—down—"

"Let go—"

Ron persists, but Harry keeps hanging onto his robes until the redhead finally groans and plops back down onto his chair. "Are you bloody mental?" asks Harry incredulously.

"Maybe, but at least I'm not a wimp!" Ron retorts, exasperated. "Grow some balls, Harry! You don't seriously think you'll ever get the girl if you just sit here staring at her every single day, do you?"

"I'm not trying to get her—"

"What, are you just planning to watch her like some creepy stalker the whole year? What'll you do if some random bloke comes up to her and asks her out? You're flipping Harry Potter—if anyone's got a chance with any girl, it's you!"

"Shhhhh!" chides Madame Pince more insistently this time, poking her head out of an aisle of bookshelves.

Ron gives Harry a serious look. In a quieter tone, he says, pointing his index finger at him, "You've gotta take your chances, mate. If you don't get up right now and talk to her, I swear to Merlin I'm telling her you like her—and you can't stop me this time."

Harry scoffs. "Oh, yeah? Try me."

Ron makes a move to stand up, but at a speed much quicker than lightning, Harry grabs his arm again and pulls him back down into his seat. "I was joking," insists Harry hastily.

"Didn't sound like you were," Ron remarks.

"I was," Harry assures him not-very-convincingly. And then, fidgeting in his seat, he looks at [Y/N] for a half-moment before leaning forward towards Ron and saying quietly, "You're being serious?"

"Hundred percent," Ron assures him, nodding fervently. "I could climb over this table right now and start yelling 'Harry fancies [Y/N]' at the top of my lungs, if you like."

Harry let outs a long breath, rubbing his forehead. "Jesus Christ.."

Ron crosses his arms and props his elbows on the desk, leaning towards Harry with his butt almost hanging off of his chair as he urges in an insistent tone, "Just do it, Harry. You fought off You-Know-Who twice—you can do anything. Come on."

As much as Harry hates to admit it, his best friend once again has a point—if Harry can fight off one of the most powerful wizards to have ever existed, then he can talk to a girl.. right?

Right?

"Alright, fine. To hell with it," Harry gets up from his seat, struck by a sudden burst of courage. "You're right. I can't just sit around here watching her all year—I'm gonna go talk to her."

"Brilliant!" exclaims Ron, clapping his hands together. "You've got this, Harry. Come on."

Clenching his fists, Harry takes a deep breath and starts walking towards [Y/N], whose eyes remain on her book. Throughout the five-second journey it takes for Harry to approach her, Ron keeps whispering hushed encouragements from behind him—"You're gonna ace this, mate, you're a champion". Harry almost turns around to tell him to shut up, but in all honesty Ron's little comments are egging him on, so he just lets him.

Finally, Harry comes to a stop in front of [Y/N]'s table. He licks his lips nervously, and with his hands curled into fists at his side, he clears his throat.

She doesn't look up.

Oh Merlin this is going horribly wrong.

Harry tries again, this time reaching out to tap her on the shoulder. Finally—finally, she blinks several times, tears her gaze away from the book for what must have been the first time in hours, and looks up at him.

"Um, hi," Harry grins awkwardly, sliding into the seat opposite her. "I’m—I'm Harry."

She raises her eyebrows at him, obviously a little taken aback. Harry flushes and scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Um," he presses his lips together, grasping at words that won't come to him. "I've—I've been watching you."

It takes Harry a moment to realize how horribly wrong that must have sounded like. [Y/N] looks more taken aback than ever—a crease forms between her brows as she asks, "I'm sorry?"

"That came out wrong," he says hurriedly. "I meant to say I've been watching what you read. Unintentionally. You have.. really good taste in books."

With her eyes still narrowed suspiciously, she nods slowly. It's clear that she's still thinking about him telling her he'd been watching her. "Thanks..?"

Harry swallows, trying to ignore the panicky feeling inside his chest that screams at him to run out of there and never look back. Ron's words echo in his head: "You're a champion, Harry.. you can do anything.."

Shifting in his seat, he gestures to the book she holds in her hands and discreetly squints at the cover. "Mind-Boggling Mysteries in Magical History—yeah, great book," he comments much too enthusiastically, "Love that book."

She glances down at the book in her hands and lets out a light laugh��and yes, it's a very awkward laugh, but it's a laugh nonetheless. "It is," she agrees, eyebrows raised. "What'd you think about the Magical Menagerie chapter? I found that one really intriguing."

What the bloody hell is that, Harry's brain thinks, but his mouth says, "Oh, yeah. Loved that one. Really.. really mysterious."

Her eyebrows arch up even higher and she lets out another laugh. A real one this time. Marking the page where she left off, she closes the book shut, sets it down on the table, and folds her arms on top of it. "What if I tell you there is no Magical Menagerie chapter?" she asks, eyes twinkling.

Harry gawks at her.

Oh, I’m done for, Harry thinks to himself, already preparing to get up and run away. But then he hears Ron's voice inside his head again, "Come on.. you're the Chosen One.. shoot your shot, Harry Potter, slayer of You-Know-Who.."

He clears his throat and scratches his temple as if in thought, feigning a look of wonder. "That's funny," he furrows his brows, watching her reaction. "Last time I checked there was—maybe that one was a different edition.."

[Y/N] snorts slightly with laughter, the mischievous glint in her eyes turning into an amused one. "Sure. A different edition—let's call it that. Points for trying, though," she smiles a little. Harry thinks he's doing fairly well—the skeptical, suspicious gaze she'd been staring at him with earlier had turned into one of curiosity.

"Now, is there a specific reason why The Boy Who Lived is trying to talk to me about books he doesn't seem to know anything about?" [Y/N] asks, tilting her head to the side, still smiling yet with her eyebrows raised expectantly.

Harry gulps. Oh, yeah—he can think of a few specific reasons.

1. I think you're really pretty.

2. Scratch that: you're absolutely bloody gorgeous.

3. I might have a crush on you.

4. I really, really like you.

"Pick one, oh Chosen One," he imagines Ron's voice saying inside his head. As though he's been possessed by Ron Weasley, Harry blurts out, "I think you're really pretty."

[Y/N]'s eyes widen a little, eyebrows rising even higher. And then she laughs, and then says in a voice tinged with amusement, "Really."

Harry gulps again—he swears the sound is ten times louder than it usually is. "Um—yeah. Sorry," he adds, just because he feels like he's weirding her out. His entire body is burning up; he's probably turned bright red at this point. Yeah, now would be the time to leave.

He moves to get up from his seat, mumbling something about having somewhere to go, but [Y/N] says, "Wait."

Harry pauses with his butt halfway off his chair, knees bent, and then he sits back down.

[Y/N] is smiling softly at him, lips slightly tugged up at the edges and her cheek twitching like she's suppressing a grin. And—Harry gasps mentally—is she blushing, or has he gone mad?

"Thanks," she tells him, pursing her lips before adding somewhat bashfully, "For calling me—um—pretty, I guess."

Harry wipes his clammy hands on his robes underneath the table, letting his eyes skitter away because something about holding her gaze for too long is making him jittery. Pursing his lips, he mutters, "You're welcome. It's—well. It's true."

[Y/N] lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head as though in disbelief. "You're one awkward bloke, aren't you, Harry Potter?" she teases, her eyes sparkling as she leans forward in her seat. "That's surprising, though. I've always pegged you as the arrogant type—you're 'The Boy Who Lived', after all," she grins at him, eyes flicking up momentarily to the scar on his forehead before maintaining his gaze again. "I suppose I was completely wrong. It's a pleasure to meet you—I'm [Y/F/N]."

She sticks her hand out over the table. Harry stares at it for a moment before he realizes he's supposed to shake it. Hurriedly wiping his sweaty palms on his robes again, he takes her hand; "Harry Potter," he grins rather awkwardly, shaking her hand for a brief moment before pulling away. He doesn't know if he's imagining it, but his hand feels tingly. (So does his heart.)

—

Two hours later, Harry stares up at the dark canopy of his bed, listening to the sound of rain falling outside combined with Neville's loud snoring.

For the first time in what seems like forever, normal teenage-boy thoughts are what render him unable to fall asleep. Not thoughts of Lord Voldemort coming back to life, not of Sirius Black hunting him down or of those hooded dementors—no, all that he can think about tonight is a certain Ravenclaw who had captured his heart ever since he saw her on the Hogwarts Express.

a/n: i had loads of fun writing this aaa as always feedback is very much appreciated!

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter x reader #hp x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #hp oneshot #hp oneshots #hp imagine #hp imagines #ron weasley #prisoner of azkaban #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

booksforevermore13 · 3 years

Text

I know now

Summary: Harry heaved in a breath, and looked at her, this time seeing her for herself, and not the little girl he had gotten used to in his mind.

"I know now," he said.

And Lily smiled.

Read it on AO3 if you prefer.

...

"I learnt about fishes today." Harry heard Lily's voice and turned to look at her.

A smile tugged at his lips as he saw the small, though hazy figure of his daughter by the edge of the bed, red hair bundled on her head in an angry halo as she tugged her dress further down her knees.

One hand reached out beside him to find his glasses, flailing around when he felt a pair being gently put over his eyes. Harry kissed Lily's hands, brushing his beard against her palm and smiling as she giggled.

"Now, about the fishes," he started as Lily climbed up on the bed and crawled onto his stomach, Harry holding her by her side to keep her steady.

"I saw a movie today," she said, "about Dory. And Nemo. But I liked Dory the best," and Harry nodded, though he hadn't the slightest idea what she was saying. "Dory is blue in colour and she has yellow fins, like the yellow of the sun and she can breathe in water and make whale sounds, like this." She oohed and Harry laughed as she oohed until she lost her breath.

"Dory sounds good," he said seriously, lips set in a half-smile.

"I think she's really pretty. Even prettier than Mummy."

"Then I bet she's good."

"Mummy said so too. She said I was right."

Lily smiled triumphantly, and Harry smiled back, gently stroking her hair out of her bun. Lily hated her hair like that, but at three, it had grown past her shoulders, and Ginny had resorted to tying it every morning before school.

Lily didn't like that either.

"Daddy," she called now and Harry's eyes left her hair and settled on her.

"Hmm?"

"Can you make me Dory?"

"Make you - wait, what?"

Lily looked expectantly at him and he stared blankly back at her as he fumbled with what she said.

"Dory's a fish, Lils," he said after a while. "I don't think anyone can be Dory."

"But you can do anything," she protested. "And Mummy always says anyone can be anything they want."

And that was what Lily asked. Never an extra side of ice-cream or a piece of fudge in the middle of the night. A few months back, she'd asked him to turn her into a tiger. The month after, she'd wanted to be a princess. He'd agreed gladly to that, before she'd proposed he turn into a frog so that she could kiss him and he'd turn into a prince.

Now, it was Dory, the blue fish.

It seemed as if she took Ginny's advice most literally.

He was tempted to turn her down, at least the logical part of him did, but then he looked at her and saw the way she was staring at him, with that hopeful glint in her eyes and almost immediately knew she'd won.

She always did.

It wasn't a surprise when an hour later, when they looked into the mirror, they met with a disgruntled orange dad carrying his elated blue daughter, yet, both of them happy.

Dory and Nemo indeed.

...

"Think you can catch up, old man?" Lily said as she took off after the Snitch, her hair flying behind her, like her mother's had, years before. Harry watched with a smile as she flipped her broom in the air, hands steady as she shot off again in typical Weasley fashion. He had to warn her about that, but part of him — the part that defended his children from his wife after a poorly executed prank — knew she had it handled.

It was only after James had hollered at him to get moving, did he realize that he had to catch the Snitch too. "Sorry," he yelled as he took off behind Lily, searching for that familiar golden glint of light he'd gotten used to over the years before realising there wasn't any to follow.

He slowed down. A Wronski Feint, she'd been attempting and almost succeeded in pulling off.

She'd almost got him.

Almost.

"Why are you slowing down?" James yelled from his Keeper post as he dashed to block a Quaffle. Instead of kicking it away from him, he caught it, turned around and put it through the hoop.

Cheating it was, him playing Keeper and Chaser at the same time, but there were only four players, and his children were set on making it as realistic as possible.

Harry only smiled knowingly at James, the Dad-smile, the one that his children hated, before he heard Lily yell and took a sharp turn to face her.

She was holding something, something small and grinning widely and as Harry squinted, he saw a golden object in her fist, wings folded as it struggled against her grasp, a futile attempt to get out, as every Seeker knew.

"Wha—"

"Yes, Lily!" Albus yelled, before he even had a second to register his disbelief. He whooped and stuck out his tongue at James. "Take that, you oaf!"

"Oh, shut up," James muttered as his glare turned to Harry. "I swear Dad, if you took it easy on her—"

"I didn't!" Harry defended. "There - I thought - there wasn't any Snitch when I followed her!"

"What's she holding now, a trumpet?"

"Yeah I transfigured it into a Snitch," Lily said sarcastically from behind Harry and he could hear the distinct flutter of a Snitch caught. "Look around, you'll probably see the real one behind your shoulder.

Albus was laughing hysterically on his broom while they fought and Harry had a distinct feeling that there was something else going on between them three. He watched them for a few seconds, before turning to Lily.

"How did you do that?" he asked her, glancing yet again at the Snitch in her hand.

Lily shrugged, an arrogant smirk plastered on her face as her eyes gleamed with what he knew was glee. A smile made his way on his face as he took in her stance, one he'd seen many times before.

James yelled behind him, breaking through his reverie and Harry turned around, just barely catching him pass over a coin to his brother.

"You had bets?" he asked incredulously and Albus slipped the coin in his pocket with a sheepish grin.

"I thought that was obvious," Lily said flippantly from behind him and Harry frowned.

"What were you betting on?"

"Which of you'd catch the snitch first," James said, "thanks Dad. Really appreciate it."

"Your welcome," Lily piped in again and James glared at her. "What?" she defended, "everyone here knows I'm the only one here who can beat him."

"Bollocks."

"Yeah?" Lily mocked and Harry chuckled as he watched James rise up to the challenge, not long before they were yelling at each other, mostly led by James and Lily with the occasional comment from Albus that fuelled their entire brawl.

It'd take their mother to make them stop.

He laughed out loud when he saw Ginny walk outside with a chocolate covered spatula and brandish it at the three of them as she yelled something he couldn't hear.

He had been right.

Harry flew towards the ground, landing on his feet a few metres away from his wife. He smiled as he saw her turn to face him.

"Lily caught it," he announced, entirely unaware of himself and watched as Ginny smiled in amusement and turned away from him.

"Didn't expect that, did you?"

"Absolutely not."

They walked into the house, Ginny heading towards the kitchen and Harry following her. He watched her for a while as she bustled about, taking out the eggs from the fridge and flour from the cabinet, attempting to open the sugar with one hand before Harry did it for her.

"Where are they?" he asked after a second, noting the absence of his children hovering around the kitchen.

"The boys are upstairs," Ginny stated, "Lils said she'll be at Luna's. Said she had some work."

"Work?"

"Yes, well, we both know what work she actually has."

Ginny looked up at him, grinning. First year off at Hogwarts and Lily had stepped out the train with her three newly indicted friends, two of them being her cousins. The Marauders, they called themselves. The two years that had followed, they'd only grown closer, choosing to spend all their time together, Luna's house being their place.

Mostly because she never interfered.

Harry had only grown to notice the striking similarity they had to the original four.

"It's an acquired name, but I don't think they'll mind," Ginny said softly and Harry laughed, recognizing the words Lily had said the day she'd come back from Hogwarts.

"They won't," he agreed. "They'd be proud, actually."

He dipped one finger in the batter, laughing as Ginny swatted it off.

"Are you upset?" she teased as she continued mixing the batter with her spatula.

"About what?"

"Third time this week you couldn't catch the snitch" she pointed out and Harry laughed.

Five years ago, he'd been the one teaching Lily how to catch a snitch. How the roles had reversed.

"She's clever, I'll give you that," Harry said. "Though I can't fathom how she managed to hide the Snitch from me."

"She didn't," Ginny said with a smile. "I thought you of all people wouldn't fall for that."

"What do you mean?"

Harry waited for her answer but then frowned as he saw her smile fall.

"Nothing," she replied finally and sighed. "One day you'll realise she's more like you than you'll ever know."

He didn't know what Ginny was hinting at. It had become obvious over the months that he was struggling, reaching out to Lily. At fourteen, it seemed whatever he said, it wasn't enough to understand her. His own daughter was a mystery to him, and sometimes he envied Ron for the easy understanding he had with Rose.

"I don't get it," Harry muttered as he slipped her hands around Ginny's waist, bringing her back closer to his chest. He bent forward, pressing his lips below her ear and Ginny smiled sadly.

"I hope you don't mind getting flour on that shirt."

Harry didn't answer, and Ginny arched her neck to look at him. "You're going to tell me what you're thinking?" she asked, and he smiled down at her as he saw her eyes shrouded with concern. Even after all these years, she knew exactly what he was feeling, every time.

He shook his head and Ginny turned around, Harry's arms still around her.

"I don't know her anymore," he admitted. "Not like-not like I did back then." He sighed. "I don't think I even know what her favourite colour is now," he said, looking down at his wife.

"It's still green, I can tell you. Green like the forest—"

"After the rain," Harry finished and laughed.

He remembered when Lily had said that for the first time. She was three, her biggest fascination then, being his eyes. He remembered how she had begged him one day to change her brown eyes to his green, and he'd wondered why. Her eyes were the most exquisite ones he'd seen, exactly like her mother's, but apparently, the three year old thought differently. He'd taken her to the forest the next day and told her to choose a leaf, any leaf so that he could transfigure it to something she'd be able to keep with her always. He'd not expected her to choose the entire forest, and Harry had simply smiled then at the innocence with which she'd looked at him.

"She's going to be seventeen soon," he said finally. "She's not… my little girl anymore."

"Yet she still looks at you like she's three."

"And I hope that never changes."

...

Ginny was outside. He knew she could listen to each and every word he said. He looked across him at Lily, and then back at the ground again.

This was not for Lily.

She was not made for the Ministry. She was not supposed to be an Auror.

How was Ginny not seeing this?

How had she accepted it so easily?

Twenty-five years ago, when he'd walked into the Ministry, he'd vowed that things would change. They had to at that time.

Fifteen years later, he'd found himself vowing he'd not let his children suffer the same fate he had had. That he'd not let them become a pawn of the Ministry.

To his credit, he'd succeeded.

Three years ago, when James decided to become a Curse Breaker, he'd felt the relief that one felt after a hard job well done. One year later, when Albus claimed his dreams of becoming a Healer, he'd been satisfied. He had been so sure he'd saved them from a miserable future.

Harry had never expected his youngest to say those words.

"Dad," Lily urged now. "Dad."

Harry looked up from the floor, and met with his daughter's eyes, carrying a look he'd seen many times before. It was the look she had before she caught the Snitch, the one she'd had when she'd asked him to turn her into Dory so many years ago.

It was when she was unstoppable.

"How'd it come to this, Lils?" Harry asked. "Why an Auror? I always thought you wanted to play Quidditch. Like your mum."

What had gone wrong?

"That was when I was eleven, Dad," Lily said, and he had that unworldly feeling that he had let her down. "I'm seventeen now. I know what I want to do."

"No you don't, Lils," he said. "The Ministry isn't what it was before. It isn't—"

"You don't think I know that?" Lily said quietly, and he could see the anger flashing in her eyes.

She knew that. She'd known that for years now.

She'd been on the receiving side of it.

Four years back, when she'd needed help, the Ministry hadn't given it.

Four years back, when she'd been cornered by Dementors in broad daylight, the Ministry hadn't come to her rescue.

He remembered the muffled cries he'd heard from her room that night, cries she'd tried hard to suppress, but hadn't been able to. She'd been the witness to the work of a Dementor. An innocent Muggle being a victim. He knew she blamed herself. For not being able to produce a Patronus. For not being able to save a person who'd only ever tried to help.

He'd failed in protecting her.

And she'd paid the price.

Eleven years back and it had happened again.

She had a friend. Julian. He remembered him. When they were seven, they liked to play in the pond at the back of their house, pretending to be frogs turned into princes. He remembered how the cookies vanished when they were together, how the swing he'd tied to the poplar tree in their garden was reserved only for them.

That day Ginny had had to go out, so Lily had gone over to play with him.

Harry had always known his work would one day catch up with him.

Just never like this.

When he'd got that message from Ginny, her horse prancing around the room in a panicked gallop, he knew it had happened. When he Apparated into their house, Julian's parents were the first thing he saw. Lying on the floor, victims of the killing curse.

But nothing could have prepared him from what he saw upstairs.

Julian's body. His eyes gazing into the ceiling, his hands which had never stayed still before, lying limp on the ground. It was very much unlike the sandy-haired boy he'd grown accustomed to see during the weekends, sitting opposite to him in the kitchen as he helped himself to Ginny's pancakes.

Beside him, Lily lay on her mother's lap, sobbing into her shirt, but refusing to leave Julian's side. He could hear her incoherent cries, her mumbles as she repeated a phrase over and over again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

And his heart broke, because his little girl had seen something no child should ever have to see.

Because she'd watched her friend die.

Because he'd failed again.

And she'd paid the price.

Lily knew the Ministry — better than even he did — how they chose whom to save, how they chose whom they forgot, their cases never to be heard of again. How the Ministry had slowly lost sight of what they were fighting for. How it was just a crumbling shell in the place of what it had once been.

And even though it was the most daunting thing he'd ever admitted to himself, deep down, he knew that Lily was wired to this. Just like he'd been at her age, this was what she knew she wanted to do.

But unlike him, he knew she'd succeed in what he failed.

And even though he didn't understand, he knew he didn't have a choice.

"I always thought you wanted to be a Quidditch player," he said, and Lily smiled, her eyes tired. As if she was tired of fighting for herself.

But he knew she still had fight left.

"I think you lost me there on the way," she replied finally and Harry smiled.

"Yeah. Yeah, I probably did."

"One day you'll realise she's more like you than you'll ever know."

He'd never understand, but he'd try.

He'd vowed he'd never let his children do the same mistakes he had, but perhaps, that vow had been more for him than it was for them. And in the end, he knew that him being an Auror had only fueled the fire he'd begun to see in his daughter.

Perhaps, him being an Auror hadn't been a mistake at all.

If that's what she wanted to be.

"You know, Dad," Lily said, and Harry, for a second there, saw a hint of fear in her eyes but didn't know what it was for. "I don't exactly need your permission."

"I know you don't."

"I'd just really like you to know."

Harry nodded, his green eyes glinting with unshed tears. Green like the forest a rainy day, she'd said. Green like his.

Because if there was one thing he'd always known about his daughter, it was that she knew him. That even when he'd lacked in being a father to her at times, she'd never lost sight of him.

Even when he hadn't listened to her present.

But he'd listen to her now. He'd do for her what he should have done years back.

Listen.

So he smiled because he'd lost her there, but never completely. Because she was his daughter. Because she was his to protect and let go.

Because she was more like him than he'd ever know.

Harry heaved in a breath, and looked at her, this time seeing her for herself, and not the little girl he had gotten used to in his mind.

"I know now," he said.

And Lily smiled.

...

Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition

Huge, huge thanks to my teammates for beta-ing!!

#Lily Luna and Harry father daughter relationship #Harry Potter #Lily Luna Potter #Ginny Weasley #Hinny fluff #Family #Timeline #Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley #Albus Severus Potter #James Sirius Potter #Father Daughter fluff #Next gen #Next-gen fan fiction #Fanfiction #Hinny #Hinny married #written for the quidditch league fan fiction competition

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Smooth

Note - This is a birthday gift for my babie🥺🥺 Amber aka @sweater-daddiesdumbdork. I'm sorry Steve's as hairless as a seal😔 at least you have Ari Mike and Colin!

Summary - You're surprised to find just how smooth Steve is.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings - smut, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, name calling, captain kink, rip steves pubes lol.

Word count - 2.6k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

“What the fuck do you mean you haven’t done it yet?!” You cringed pushing your palms on your ears to block out Ella’s screeching. Maybe it was a mistake to tell her that you still hadn’t hit that supersoilder-golden-boy-next-door.

“We’re just waiting for the right moment you know?” You murmured. You couldn’t tell her the real reason. That Steve had never been intimate with anyone. Even if she was your best friend that was Steve’s secret to tell, not yours.

“When will the right moment come” She shook her head “I’m disappointed in you. You get to date that hunk of a man, and how long has it been a year?”

“Six months!” You defended yourself.

“As if that makes a difference” She scoffed.

“We will do it soon when we’re both ready.” You said ironing out the wrinkles on your dress which you were showing her.

“Alright I just want you to be happy” She rolled her eyes finally giving in “but why're you dressed as a nun?” She looked you up and down confused.

“I’m not a nun! I’m supposed to be snow white. Steve will be my prince.” You couldn’t help the love-struck grin that appeared on your face. You really were living out your best fairy tale with him.

“Wouldn’t you rather wear something traditional” She suggested.

“Hm?” You asked looking at your reflection in your dressing table mirror. You were covered head to toe. Your hair done up like that of snow white with a red headband. “How is this not traditional?” You wondered. It seemed like an okay, albeit cheesy but you were a cheesy couple, costume for Halloween.

“I meant traditional for our generation.” She snickered. She would never say it in front of Steve, but she loved making fun of you for dating someone who was old enough to be your grandpa and how you liked older men. “like a slutty snow White” she continued.

“Nope” You said popping the p and going back into your closet to take off the uncomfortable and restricting dress. You had no idea how you will spend an entire night in that thing. “I don’t want to ruin Disney Princesses for him. He likes them a lot” you shouted so she could hear you. It was so cute how he liked to hum or even sing along with the musicals sometimes. He appreciated the art and the vibrant colors. The idealistic happy endings appealed to the romantic in him.

You came out of your closet taking in deep breathes of fresh air, your torso no longer restricted “That doesn’t mean you can’t still be slutty” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at you.

“What do you have in mind?” You were curious. You were excited to be Steve’s princess. But you would trade that if you what you truly wanted.

Steve groaned looking at himself all done up in his 'prince' costume. Yeah it was his idea to be Snow White and her prince but you were the one who suggested doing a costume together! He couldn’t say no when you looked at him so expectedly. When you gushed so much about this being your favorite holiday.

He looked... ridiculous. There was no other way to put it. From the neck up he was fine, his clean shaven face and golden yellow hair pushed back. He looked like his normal self. But then his pale blue shirt with the balloon sleeves, the dark vest over it and his huge black boots, all topped with a sword strapped to his hip. It reminded him of his army days, when he was nothing more than a monkey.

He contemplated all the teasing he would probably have to endure from his friends the whole night. It would be absolutely worth it to make you happy. With his mind made up he left his apartment and headed towards yours, just across the hallway, to pick you up for the party at the tower. He did lose the sword. That was just too over the top.

He knocked on your door, giddy with excitement to see you in your snow white dress. He made sure to treat you like a princess, how you deserve to be treated by everyone, but to actually see you dressed as one would be something else.

His jaw dropped on the floor as you opened the door and he got a good look at you. You were dressed in... lingerie? You were a white lacy bodysuit that hugged your curves in all the right places. Leaving your legs completely bare. If that wasn’t enough you were wearing a tiara attached to a veil.

He couldn’t stifle the damn near animalistic growl that escaped his throat. He averted his gaze from your pushed up titts to your face. Your make up all done up, from the neck up you almost looked like a bride. “What the hell are you wearing doll?” he grumbled.

“Oh you don’t like it?” you clucked your tongue and looked down at your sexy costume “What a shame. It only costs like 500 dollars” Yeah maybe you were an idiot to spend so much money on a costume but if it worked you’d be seeing stars tonight so it'd be worth it.

“What happened to being snow white? What are you even supposed to be?” You moved to the side so you could let him into your apartment. He ran his hand through his hair plopping down on your couch, his eyes never leaving your body.

“I’m a slutty bride” You twirled in front of him to give him a nice view of your, barley covered, ass.

“That’s lingerie doll. You can’t go out dressed like that” He raised his hand to touch your ass, maybe give it a little squeeze but you quickly turned around.

Your hands on your hips you asked “Why not?”

“Because” He paused pulling you into him by grabbing at your hips “only I get to see you like this” His hand reached at your backside and he groaned squeezing your ass before giving it a light swat. He chuckle as you yelped from the sudden slap.

“Well then what do you suggest I do with this?” You asked nonchalantly playing with your veil “Are you saying I don’t look pretty?” You gave him your best mock puppy eyes. You could clearly see just how much he liked that on you. But you needed him to say it and to do something about it.

“You know that’s not true” You yelped as he flipped you into the couch, trapping you under him.

“I don’t know Steve. You don’t seem to be a huge fan of it. I thought you’d like me being your slut.” You brought out the big guns, jutting your bottom lip out. You knew he’d melt on the spot.

“Fine. You can be my slut.” He couldn’t believe he actually said that word. His mother raised him in a certain way. To respect women and to never ever use those words to address a woman. And he did respect all women and you. But she also taught him to be passionate and give his all to everything he did. So it would only be fair that he fucked you, respectfully, with everything he has got and gave you everything you asked for.

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. Biting and sucking on your neck and then trailing down your clavicle. Making sure to leave bruises so everyone could see who you belonged to. He kissed your throat and revelled in the vibrations caused by your moans. Your hands in clutching onto his head and completely messing up his well done hair. He finally let up and admired his work. The white and red marks that would soon turn a dark shade of violet.

He hauled you over his shoulder walking towards your bedroom. As you squirmed and then laughed in his hold.

He had to struggle a lot to off his clothes. They were so intricate, with the buttons and buckles, reminded him of his stealth suit. He pulled off his boots and crawled onto the bed, kneeling between your legs only in his tight black boxer briefs.

He looked at your face and frowned at the puzzled expression it held as you stared at his nude body. He suddenly felt self conscious. All the insecurities, from back when he was the little guy came back to him. He thought women liked him now. Even you were so entranced and attracted to his bulky figure. Which he couldn’t help but be proud of.

But right now, for some reason you didn’t look impressed. He sanked back to sit on his calves. He had completely given himself to you. What if you rejected him? He had no idea how he would deal with that blow.

“Oh!” You exclaimed as you noticed Steve’s defeated state. In your ogling and processing you didn’t realise that you might’ve hurt his feelings. “Stevie?” You knelt before him caressing his cheek. “I’m just taken aback a bit okay?” you tried to reassure him.

“Why?” He finally met your gaze looking into your guys.

“I mean...” You trailed off running your hand down the smooth and vast expanse of his chest. “You’re so smooth? You don’t have any hair.” You struggled to get the sentence out. Suddenly realises just how ridiculous it sounded.

“I – yeah that’s how I’ve always been. I thought that’s what women wanted” He murmured cutely tilting his head “You don’t like it?” His voice wavering with nervousness.

“Steve. What kinda question is that?” And you cringed as he reminded you that you did the same thing just moments ago. “I was kidding! Steve there is nothing about you that’s not to like. Yeah I do like a bit of fuzz but I’d love you just as much even if you were bald.” You said and he looked as if he was processing your words. “You are my dream guy. My prince.” You beamed trailing kisses down his flushed torso. “How about I show you?” You didn’t wait for his answer, taking off your veil and your tiara with it. You rolled his briefs down his hips and he helped you take them off. You looked in shock at his beautiful rosy cock, which was almost hard, and his lack of hair....

You quickly whipped your head up knowing he would assume the worst “Steve! It’s the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen” You said stroking his length and licking the tip, which was oozing with precum, to prove it. “It’s just unexpected. That’s all.” You took him in your mouth. Just as you anticipated, he was too big, you could barely fit his tip in your mouth.

“Well you know the...” He bunched your hair in his fist, struggling to keep from pushing you down further.

“What?” You asked as he slipped out of you.

“I thought that’s what people did nowadays” He was turning redder every second “I didn’t... In the pornography...and I thought tonight you and me..”

You snorted and out a hand on your mouth to keep from laughing. “Steve! Porn isn’t real. You can do whatever you want with your body. But you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“What do you mean?” he asked trying his best to ignore his aching cock and your wet swollen lips.

“Just wait till it grows back” You grimaced “it’s gonna itch like crazy. That’s why I uh... never you know do it. Just warning you” You chuckled nervously.

“Enough talking” He groaned at the thought of your wet pussy and how much he had been fantasizing about it for the last several months. He pushed you on your back and quickly worked on removing your bodysuit. When you laid completely bare in front of him. He swore you were the more beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

He trailed down your body settling his broad shoulders between your legs. He groaned at the sight in front of him. You weren’t lying and he indeed preferred this. He dove right in licking and sucking to see what you like best. He had never ate a woman out before but he had been doing his research. Porn was too gratuitous and was clearly only made for the male gaze, reading women’s magazines and some more ‘sex for dummies' books he bought as discreetly as he could.

Which is where he got the stupid idea that everyone liked shaved dicks now. Which was only backed up by his friends and the locker room talk about ‘manscaping'. Tony and Clint were classic over sharers. He wouldn’t be surprised if they purposely misled him. He didn’t have much hair on his balls to begin with, but he expected to give himself to you tonight, so he carefully put the razor on his balls and shaved it all off. The things he would do for you and the lengths he would go for you.

From your moans and the way you were pushing his head harder into your core, he could tell that he was doing a good job. You thrashed and squirmed as he held you down by pushing down on your stomach. You came gushing all over his face and he made sure to drink it all up, not wasting a single drop.

He loomed over you, his cock nudging at your entrance. You both moaned in unison as he sinked into you, groaning into the crook of your neck as he bottomed out.

His hands greedily squeezed your hips, your breasts, your ass, whatever they could get a hold of as he slowly rocked his hips against yours. He knew if he went any faster he would blow his load right then and there.

“I’m gonna cum Steve.” You wailed and if he didn’t know any better he would think that you were in pain.

“You gonna cum? Go ahead” He harshly shaved his cock into you “Be a good slut. Cum all over your captains cock.” He felt his own release not far behind, not with your tight wet cunt milking him for all he’s got. He gasped when you raked your nails into his shoulders, crying loudly in his ear. He lost his rhythm. Lifting your hips up to fuck him like the animal you’ve turned him into. His hips stuttered as he came deep inside you.

He stayed inside you and on top of you for a minute. Catching his breathe he finally pulled out of you and laid down beside you, pulling you into his chest.

“I’m on the pill.” You mumbled into his chest. Not wanting him to worry about that. You smiled against his chest laying a kiss over his soft nipple. There were plenty of benefits to being so smooth and hairless. You could trace those hard abs of his with your tongue for hours. You changed your mind. You liked them smooth and silky now. Or maybe because he was so hairless. You didn’t know and it didn’t matter.

“I think I like seeing you as a bride.” He said his fingers idly playing with your hair, curling a strand of it.

You only muttered something as a response. Probably too far gone into slumber. He traced your smooth skin for a while before joining you in it. Completely forgetting about the party you were both supposed to be at.

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feferipeixes · 3 years

Text

Still Alive

After Dipper learns that this whole "being a demon" thing means he's going to live forever, he and Mabel talk about the future, and what he's going to do when everyone he knows dies. It's not until much later that he starts to realize that they'll never truly die -- just like he'll never truly get sick of ice cream.

Thanks to @toothpastecanyon for beta reading!

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

“If you could choose one project to do and be guaranteed that you’d finish it eventually, no matter how long it took, what would you do?”

“Hmm....” Mabel replied, itching her scalp with a plastic hand clapping toy. “Oh! I’d get my hands on the Ultimate Magical Shimmering Rainbow-splosion Fluffykins doll! There’s only five hundred in existence -- they’re super duper rare!”

“No no no,” Dipper countered. “That’s too easy, and too short. All you’d need to do is set up some eBay alerts, bribe a few people, maybe sneak into the FluffCorp factory building. Not even -- you could just snap your fingers -” (he snapped his fingers for effect, causing a puff of blue flame to momentarily appear) “and conjure it.”

“I can’t -” Mabel started, but Dipper kept talking over her.

“I’m talking about something really unprecedented. Something that would take a long time, something you wouldn’t ordinarily be able to do. Something that would change the world.”

“Oh, I get it now!” Mabel tossed the toy aside and flipped over, letting her head dangle off the end of her bed. “I’d call you a dork a million times.”

Her brother scowled at her and jumped out of his chair and into the air. “Hey!” he yelped over Mabel’s laughter. “I'̼͚̻͓͎̲m̡̖̰̘̣͎ ̖͇̕n̛̻ơ̰t̷̟͇̱ ̝̺̻a̳̦ ̪̟̮͖ḑor̞͓̭k̟̤̖!̛͍ And even if I was, that wouldn’t take you very long! At, uh, a rate of, let’s see, you could probably say ‘you’re a dork’ at least 30 times per minute, and if you didn’t ever sleep…”

Mabel watched the red tinge fade away from his features as he paced around in mid air, doing math in his head. “Yeah. You’re totally not a dork, Sir Maths-a-lot. You sure showed me.”

“- It wouldn’t even take you a month,” Dipper finished. “Besides, how would that change the world?”

“Hmm, well if I call you a dork enough times,” Mabel answered, “maybe my big scary demon brother would decide he doesn’t want to be a dork and instead he’d do something with his cool magic powers that ends up making the world a better place!”

“Mabel?”

“Yeah bro-bro?”

Dipper frowned at her. “Your face is turning purple.”

“Touche,” she replied, rubbing her chin very seriously. She slid the rest of the way off the bed and clutched her throbbing head. “Owww…”

“That's what you get for giving me dumb answers,” Dipper quipped, arms crossed.

“You mean for giving you fun answers,” Mabel corrected, and then winced at another sting of pain. “Why are you asking me these weird questions anyway?”

A panicked look flickered across Dipper's face, and his feet touched the ground. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Mabel, still massaging her temples, pushed herself semi-upright to give her brother a look. “Come on. ‘What would you do if you had all the time in the world?’ ’What movie could you watch a million times and never get sick of it?’ ’Do you think Stancakes have a shelf life longer than 100 years?’ Something is clearly up.”

Dipper giggled awkwardly (was there any other way he could giggle?) and stared at the ceiling. “Nothing. It's nothing!”

“What, are you really not gonna tell me?” Mabel pushed. ”What if I tickle you?”

Her brother recoiled in horror. “You wouldn't.”

There was a tense silence as the two twins considered whose was the stronger will: the expert fighter with a plethora of torture tactics at hand, or the demon. Mabel narrowed her eyes. Dipper sharpened his claws. No words were exchanged. The room was perfectly still.

Mabel jolted forward half a foot and Dipper shrieked.

“Okay, you win, just don't tickle me!” he begged, throwing his hands up. “I'll tell you!”

“Good,” Mabel replied. “Things were about to get ugly. Spill it, bro-bro.”

Dipper sighed. He dusted himself off -- a habit he'd gotten into lately even though he was pretty sure nothing he could do would make his orange shirt and vest look any less weird with his new body.

“Remember… Remember the thing I told you the other day, when I had that infodump and learned more about my powers?”

“Oh yeah,” she said. “You found out that your omniscience tells you whenever anyone farts.”

“No!” he squeaked. “Although, you are right, it does do that and it's annoying, especially because now I can smell it from like a mile away.”

He wrinkled his nose, staring off into space for a minute before shaking his head. “But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about… how I'm never going to die.”

It had been about a week since Mabel had walked into the living room to find Dipper writhing and sobbing on the floor. She remembered the way he’d looked right through her, how he hadn’t seemed to even notice her presence when she sat him upright, how he kept muttering “still alive, still alive” over and over again, and it hadn’t made any sense to her then, but when he finally snapped out of it and was able to vocalize what he’d seen…

She shuddered at the memory of it.

“Since then,” Dipper continued, “I’ve been thinking about how I’m going to deal with it. And I had this idea that I could come up with things to do to fill the time.”

“What, so you’re going to plan out your whole life?” Mabel asked, incredulous. “Let me guess -- you’re making a checklist? Hah! Can you imagine?”

She giggled, and then he reached into his vest and pulled out oh sweet Moses.

“I’ve already got some good stuff on here,” Dipper said, ignoring or not noticing his sister’s flabbergasted expression. “I’m gonna learn how to make a sword by hand. I’m gonna watch all of Tiger Fist backwards to see if there are any hidden messages. And there’s this spa getaway weekend that the Multibear invited me on -- shoot, wait, he’s gonna be dead by then, umm…”

Mabel raised an eyebrow as her brother started scribbling on the checklist. “Dipper. This is obsessive even for you.”

“What would you know?” he shot back. “You’re not the one who’s immortal.”

“I know how to have this thing called ‘fun’,” she replied. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

He grumbled at her, eyes locked on his checklist. He couldn’t believe he forgot that the Multibear spa trip thing was a limited time offer. That kind of stuff was slipping his mind more and more these days, like the time Mabel asked him to play cards with her and he was so busy alphabetizing his Sibling Brothers books that he neglected to respond to her for three days.

Although, now that he thought about it, that might’ve been before he became a demon.

Something damp and cold hit Dipper in the face, and he spluttered in surprise. “What was that?” he shouted. One of his flailing hands happened to close on the object as it fell, and he held it up to the light.

“It’s a popsicle, doofus!” Mabel said. She’d fetched two from the minifridge in their room while he was distracted, and was busy licking away at her own, which was chocolate. “Remember those?”

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t have ti-”

“I’ll throw another one at you,” Mabel interrupted.

“- I guess I could have some ice cream,” Dipper finished.

He floated over and sat on the floor next to his sister. He removed the paper from the popsicle and gave the object a sniff. The aroma of orange and vanilla caressed his sensitive nose, and he realized how long it’d been since he had any sugar. Without a second moment’s thought, he threw his head back, stretching both his neck and jaw further than they were supposed to go, and placed the entire popsicle -- stick and all -- into his gaping maw.

“See, what’d I tell you?” Mabel said, smirking at the satisfaction on her brother’s face. She reached up with her popsicle to scratch an itch on her nose, and then went right back to eating it. “I always know what to do with my time. I wonder what it’d be like if I lived forever…”

Dipper eyed the glob of chocolate ice cream on the bridge of her nose. “The world would probably be a much more chaotic place.”

“You mean a much BETTER place!” she declared. “Everyone would have fun and ice cream all the time!”

He grinned. “You’re right. It would be a much better place. Because my best friend would be there.” Mabel looked at him, a twinkle in her eye and ice cream all over her face, and his grin fell away. “I guess this is what you felt like when I said I was going to be Grunkle Ford’s apprentice, huh. I’m such a shitty bro-”

Mabel at once had her hands on his face, squishing his cheeks together so he’d stop talking. “Nuh-uh. Bro-bro you’re gonna stop hating on yourself Right. Now.” She was still smiling, but her tone had twisted into something harsh. “Okay, sure, I’m gonna die someday and then you’re gonna have to figure out what to do on your own. But I’m not ready to think about that and neither are you! We’re hecking 13 years old! We should act like it, while we’ve still got the chance. Please don’t make me think about dying yet.”

Dipper winced, and she let go of him. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“S’okay.” She patted him on the back, harder than he’d been expecting, and he was so surprised that he coughed up the popsicle stick he’d eaten earlier.

For a minute, neither of them said a word. Dipper lifted a hand to his face, where he felt something sticky.

“You got chocolate on my face.”

“Yeah. On your vest, too.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “What are you going to do about it?”

He looked at his hands, still small and smooth like a child. With a thought, he bathed both hands in a blue flame, searing away the chocolate and leaving them clean, just the way he liked them. Then he cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna chase you around the house,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Smiling ear-to-ear, Mabel jumped up and ran to the wall. “You’re nuts if you think you can catch me, even with demon powers!” Cackling, she threw the door open, which bathed her in a blinding white light.

Dipper thought about his infodump from the other day, thought about the part he hadn’t told Mabel, the tiny glimpse he’d gotten of his sister when she’d been old, pale, and still -- too horribly, horribly still. It was just a glimpse, but it haunted him -- the thought that one day there wouldn’t be a single trace left of Mabel Pines anywhere in the world. She was right -- as always -- that he was obsessing, that he was letting a thought hurt him when it didn’t have to.

He wasn’t ready to think about growing up yet, either. No matter how strong the pull to obsess was, he had to find a way to fight it.

“You can’t get away from me!” Dipper roared, and flew after his sister into the future.

---

"Wahoo! That was a great idea -- getting ice cream -- Dipper! I feel so much better! You always know how to cheer me up."

Dipper, clad in his usual human disguise, collapsed onto the bench with a grunt. "I dunno, this stuff tastes off. You’d think with all the technological advancements since the Transcendence that they’d have found a way to perfect ice cream."

His friend Arin, who was somehow managing to carry five popsicles in two hands, nodded with a serious look on her face. "Yeah. Oh sure a lot of old timey diseases were eradicated and we've got flying cars and stuff. But not one of these ice pops actually tastes like orange!"

She stared at him for a beat longer, then finally broke into snickers. One of the popsicles fell out of her hand, and a stubby arm immediately shot out from under the bench to catch it.

His face twisting in confusion, Dipper bent over to look under the bench. There were two gnomes right beneath him -- one of them hissed when they saw him, making him jump and making Arin laugh even harder.

"Ha-ha, okay," Dipper said, hand on his chest like his heart was racing. Despite this, he couldn't keep a small smile from creeping onto his face.

So much had changed in the last five hundred years, and yet so much else had stayed the same. Wars were fought, societies had formed and collapsed, but people were still people, and Dipper was still Dipper. Even though he’d had more than a few incidents where his demonic nature overcame his humanity, he always seemed to land back on his feet again eventually. Sometimes all it took was a friend.

Right now, his friend was a girl named Arin who he’d saved when someone else had tried to sacrifice her to him. He remembered how grateful she’d been, how she gave him a hug despite him being a void black monster splattered with blood, and how she then spent 20 minutes chatting with him about dragons even though she’d just had a very traumatic experience. She seemed, in other words, cool. So he later presented himself to her as fellow undergraduate student Dipper, without revealing that it was him who’d saved her that night, and they’d been good friends ever since.

Arin sat next to him and started taking bites out of her ice pops. "Yknow, the Transcendence-era wasn't that great," she said, although with her mouth busy it sounded like she was drowning.

Dipper's brow creased. "What do you mean?"

She gulped down the hunk of ice in her mouth. "No offense -- I know you're totally obsessed with Transcendence history stuff -- but that was soooo long ago. There's no one left who was alive back then, except like vampires I guess. But vampires don't eat ice cream so it doesn't matter."

Dipper bit back the urge to say "I know a vampire who loves ice cream as long as there's blood in it". What came out instead was "So?"

"So!" Arin shoved an entire popsicle into her mouth, and then had to take a minute to cough up the stick. "S-so," she continued amid gasps, "no one knows for sure what ice cream tasted like in the year 2012. And that includes you, Mr. Argues-With-The-Teacher! For all we know, old timey ice cream tasted like sawdust!"

Dipper considered his chocolate popsicle, which he's barely looked at since the first taste. "I guess you're right." He gave it another wary lick.

It didn't taste like chocolate the way he remembered it, but it was close enough.

"Do you ever think," he asked, unable to meet his friend's eyes, "about all the stuff that used to exist but doesn't anymore? All the ideas and food and... people?"

Arin groaned. "Is that what this is about? My best friend of the past 2 years -- secretly one of those 'I was born in the wrong century' people?"

"No!" he shot back, before taking another lick of the popsicle. "I just think it's sad that stuff goes away and no one's there to remember it."

"Well, maybe no one remembers that stuff, but that doesn't mean it's forgotten."

Dipper looked up. "Huh?"

Arin scarfed down her remaining two popsicles, which had begun melting onto her hand. "People die and ideas change and the world moves on. It happens constantly! But those people influenced their friends and their family and their coworkers. Who in turn influenced other people. Those people might be dead, but they live forever in the words and actions of everyone who came after."

Dipper just stared at her, jaw dropped. "Where did that come from?" he managed to get out. "Five seconds ago you were gagging on frozen sugar! You're not allowed to be this insightful!"

"Sugar rushes always make me super thoughtful," Arin said, patting him on the back. "It's 'cause I'm a genius. I'm probably gonna crash hard later though. Also by the way your ice cream is totally melting."

"Ah, shoot." Dipper hurriedly tried to catch the melting ice cream with his tongue, and Arin giggled again.

"The point is," she said, "if you've always got your head stuck in a history textbook, you're gonna miss out on the present. If you're always thinking about the dead guy who invented ice cream, you won't be around to eat any with me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. He felt an itch on his nose, so he wiggled it. "Thanks, Arin. I feel better- why are you looking at me like that?"

Arin was indeed staring at him with a perplexed look on her face as if she was not the one who'd just swallowed a metric ton of ice cream. "Why do you do that?"

Dipper frowned. "Do what? AGH-"

He yelped as Arin whipped out her phone and snapped a photo of him, blinding him with the flash even though it was a bright, sunny day out. "What was that for?"

She didn't say anything, simply handed him her phone. It certainly was not the best photo ever taken of him. It was blurry, his hair was a mess, and his mouth was contorted in shock.

On the bridge of his nose was a dollop of chocolate ice cream.

"You do it every time we get ice cream," Arin said, taking her phone back. "I mean, you call me weird, but I'm not the one always itching my nose with an ice pop."

"Oh," Dipper said. He paused and looked at his fingers, which were all chocolate-y too now. "I didn't even notice I was doing it."

"Suuure, weirdo," Arin chuckled. She stood up, wobbling a bit as she did so, and steadied herself on the back of the bench. "Listen dude, this was fun but I think the sugar's starting to hit me. I'm gonna head back to the dorm before I collapse. Wanna hang out later?"

"Definitely!" Dipper replied. "You should get some rest! Try not to give psychological counseling to anyone on the way -- you're gonna burn out your brain!"

He waved at his friend as she staggered away, and watched her until she turned a corner around a building. Then he sighed, and wiped his nose with his finger.

"Hey Mabel," he whispered, looking at the chocolate he'd collected. "It’s me, Dipper.”

A passing jogger sent a pointed look at the young man who was talking to his finger, but Dipper ignored them.

“I seem to remember you saying something to me about living forever. You said that one day you’d be gone, and I’d have to find a way to carry on alone.” He thought about Arin’s words, and felt something swell in his chest. “But I guess you’re still alive after all.”

He sniffed, and looked up at the sun as it started to bathe the sky in the pinks and purples of evening. He saw people in flying cars, people rushing through pneumatic tubes, people high fiving on jetpack because it was a wonderful day to be out. And he thought about what Arin said; thought about all of the sicknesses he'd seen friends and family afflicted by that no one ever had to suffer from again. He thought about all the preters he saw walking freely and happily on the campus, without worrying that they'd be attacked.

"And you were right," he said. "The world is a better place."

Dipper licked the remaining chocolate off his fingers, and got up. As he headed back toward his dorm room, he wondered what other legacies his loved ones had left in him.

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #mabel pines #fic #my stuff #long post

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hcywards · 4 years

Text

hook ups, chapter one

summary: jj and y/n make a bet on how many people they can hook up with over the summer

words: 2.6k+

t/w: awfully written smut, sex references, underage drinking, and i think that’s it

request:

requested by anon!

“could you do one where jj and th reader have a competition at a kegger to see who can hook up with the most people? and then tensions arise hahahah”

in a future chapter i will include a request from @couldyouspeaklouder

“1 and 8 from the prompt list with JJ? :)”

prompt 1: “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

prompt 8: “Why are you so jealous?”

note: jssjdkd this is my new series!! i’m really excited for this tbh — also all of the pogues are seventeen in this because i refuse to believe they’re any younger than that

chapter two

Y/N wandered through the crowded bodies slowly, a grin on her face at the elation of it being the last day of school, and therefore the first day of the endless summers Outer Banks delivered. She was still sipping her second beer, and could only just feel the buzz of alcohol that she wanted to start surging through her as she searched for a Touron boy she thought might be worth her time. She knew her best friend was probably doing the same, and she knew he was probably way ahead of her already considering girls tended to throw themselves at him, and the thought was only making her want for another boy to hook up with ten times stronger.

It’d always been an unspoken challenge between her and her best friend of who could get someone back to the Chateau quicker, much to the annoyance of the others — because that meant both of the bedrooms in John B’s house would be taken, and, if they were unlucky, it could sometimes be the living room, the kitchen, or even the van. Really, neither Y/N nor JJ had any boundaries when it came to their competitiveness, and that was why, the second Y/N laid eyes on the boy who was undoubtedly a Touron looking for a girl for the night, she was downing the rest of her solo cup and heading over, grimacing at the taste of stale beer but grinning at the prospect of what she could already anticipate happening.

“Hey,” she greeted coolly. “I’ve not seen you around before. Are you new?”

Of course, she knew the answer to that question. It’d be “yeah, I’m here to visit with my family”, but it was a conversation starter that normally worked in leading her to where she needed to be. And, besides, how was he supposed to know that he was clearly a Touron?

“Oh, yeah, I’m visiting for the summer with my family,” he nodded, taking a sip of beer and eyeing her like a piece of meat — not that she minded it. She was used to it, by now. “Just got here today, actually.”

“Well then, you picked a great day to arrive,” she stated. “This is one of the best parties of the year.”

The boy nodded again, arching an eyebrow at the way she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Huh, I guess I did. Hey, I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” she grinned. “And you?”

“I’m Ryan," he replied, eyes still raking up and down her body hungrily. She grinned wider at that, tempted to glance over at JJ to see whether he was still there but knowing from past experience that, when flirting with another guy, looking at the boy all of the girls seemed to want was a stupid idea. So, she forced her eyes to stay locked with his, taking another small step towards him.

"Hey, seeing as you're new, do you not want someone to show you around?" Y/N asked, her voice low — and, judging by the way he swallowed and his eyes widened slightly as she spoke, that was a smart idea. She was definitely beating JJ tonight.

His eyes took a moment to recover to their usual sides, but, when they did, it seemed as if nothing had changed, as his voice came out a casual, flirty, cocky tone. "Show me around, huh?" Y/N bit her lip, nodding, and the boy grinned wider. "Should we get out of here, then?"

Y/N smirked, taking his hand and sauntering past JJ, who was still flirting with the same Touron from before. He shot her a glare as she passed, to which she responded with sticking her tongue out. She and Ryan made it back to the Chateau quickly, and before she knew it, Y/N was being pressed against the wall as Ryan shoved his tongue down her throat.

He wasn't a great kisser — too rough, too eager, too forceful — but, judging by the thing she felt poking against her leg, he was big, so she could give him that. She pushed him off of her, to lead him towards the bed, quickly straddling him as she dominated the kiss. Perhaps then, she figured, he might be a little better.

Apparently, he didn’t get the message, because he flipped them over, pulling off his shirt. Y/N heard the door swing open and shut as she tried not to laugh at the fact that this felt a lot like a quickie, and she listened out for who it was — at the high pitched giggling of a voice she hadn’t heard before, she figured it was JJ, and the knocking at the door told her it was.

JJ was the only one of the Pogues who knocked, because he knew how annoying it was when someone walked in on you — and when he knew someone was back at the Chateau, he knocked on basically every door.

“Occupied!” Y/N called as Ryan pressed his lips to her neck, and she got a muffled reply back before she focused her attention on Ryan and his subpar make out skills.

He nipped at her skin gently, and when she didn’t moan, she could see him get frustrated but not say anything. Y/N rolled her eyes when she was certain he couldn’t see her, looking back down to see him trying to pull off her shirt. She pulled it off herself, and he went back to kissing her as he fumbled with her bra. She rolled her eyes again, disguising a laugh as a moan, and undid it herself, flinging it across the room.

He continued kissing down her skin almost lazily, sloppily, but at least he was slowing down, she supposed, as he neared the waistband of her jean shorts and looked back up at her. She nodded, and he grinned, undoing them and pulling them down her legs. She kicked them to a different corner of the room, and he began rubbing at her clothed core.

A jolt of what felt like electricity flooded through her as his fingers ran against her clit, and she moaned, bucking her hips up. He was clearly better at sex than he was at kissing, she could give him that. Her hands found their way to his broad shoulders and she dug her nails into them, causing him to groan as he pulled down her panties teasingly slowly, pressing a soft kiss to her core.

She bucked her hips against his mouth, already craving the release she’d been hoping for all night, and he grinned, licking a stripe up her pussy slowly. She moaned then, fingernails digging deeper into his shoulders, and he pushed a finger inside of her. A lewd sound escaped her lips as he immediately started at a fast pace, and she rolled her head back into the pillow as he curled his finger upwards.

Another finger slid inside her, and she let out another moan, feeling the tension in the pit of her stomach tighten as his pace quickened. He was smirking above her, blue eyes boring into hers as she clenched around him, letting out a string of profanities as she came.

He opened the nightstand to grab a condom, pulling down his jeans and boxers and sliding it on before pausing again. “You sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed out, and he pushed inside her slowly. Still coming down from her last orgasm but unused to the size of his cock inside of her, she let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a cry.

He started off slowly, his cock moving inside her at a teasing pace, as if he wanted her to beg for him to move — but she didn’t, just waited with a devilish smirk on her face for him to grow tired of going that slow, despite her entire body throbbing for more. Eventually, he picked up the pace, skin slapping against hers as he moved in and out of her.

With each thrust of his hips she found herself getting closer and closer to the edge, and soon enough she was crying out his name as she clenched around him, and he was coming, too, sliding out of her and gasping for breath as he put the condom in the bin. They got into their underwear before flopping down on the spare bed and falling asleep, much to the happiness of the others in the house — though, in all fairness, they were used to it by now. It wasn’t as if JJ or Y/N were particularly private about their sex lives.

When she woke up the next day, he was gone, and Y/N smiled, figuring JJ must've kicked him out whenever he kicked out the girl he'd spent the night with.

She was glad she hadn't been at the party for long, because even after just two beers, her head hurt — though perhaps that was from Ryan headbutting her when he fucked her — and she groaned as she got up, throwing on one of JJ's shirts and wandering out of the room. JJ greeted her with a glass and an Advil, which she took gratefully, mumbling out a halfhearted 'morning'.

"Rough night, Y/N?" he asked, and she groaned, causing him to laugh. "What happened?"

"A lot," she whined, and he just laughed again, beginning to make breakfast as she sat down on the counter. "What about yours?"

"It was great, if that's any consolation," he smirked, and she gave him a glare. "Okay, fine, it wasn't. She, like, bit me while she was giving me head."

Y/N snorted at that. "Well, I'm glad to know yours went as shitty as mine. I could still pick up more people than you, though.”

“Bullshit,” he responded, arching a brow. “Girls practically beg for me.”

“You want to bet on that?” Y/N asked, and JJ grinned, never one to turn down a bet.

“Twenty bucks that, by the end of summer, I will’ve hooked up with more Tourons than you.”

“Deal,” she nodded, gratefully taking the eggs and bacon he’d made and wandering back to the couch with him to look for something to watch on Netflix.

Her legs lay over his as they scrolled through the options, jokingly arguing about which films were good or absolutely awful. Y/N flung a bit of bacon at his plate when he told her Clueless was bad, and he grinned.

“Oh, you’re giving me some of your breakfast?” he asked, picking it up and eating it and laughing when she whined. “Thanks, babe.”

“Shut up, JJ,” she responded, stealing a bit of egg off of his plate. The TV remote lay forgotten on the arm of the couch when he stole some back, and then a food war started, with each trying to see how much they could get off of the other’s plate.

From the outside, there was no debate that JJ and Y/N looked like a couple. In fact, they got asked how long they’d been dating almost on the daily. They’d laugh it off, though, because they were best friends, and had been since the day they first met, when they couldn’t have been much older than two and were still running around the back yard in diapers. They’d been through everything together, which meant there was no way they’d considered anything past kissing each other as a dare (which they’d done too many times to count, because practically the whole island wanted to see them together, including their parents and the Kooks.

Of course, there was no denying that they’d pondered whether they had feelings for the other or not -- in fact, it was something they often teased each other about -- but they’d always decided that no, they didn’t, and they were just best friends and nothing more. Maybe a little closer than most best friends would be, but that was just testament to knowing each other since practically birth and hanging out with each other basically every day since them.

For at least the past fifteen years, JJ and Y/N had been a pair -- if you were dating one, you might as well be dating both, and if you hated one, you had no choice but to hate both. It was always ‘JJ and Y/N’ or ‘those two’, never just ‘JJ’ or ‘Y/N’. The two seventeen-year-olds were practically inseparable, attached at the hip. They were the human embodiment of the comedic relief duo in old films, and that was why they couldn’t be near each other while trying to get laid at a party -- because if one of the people they were flirting with said something that was funny, they’d look at each other and burst out laughing, meaning people tended to think they were either dating or being rude. That was how JJ had so many shirts with beer stains down them after a girl through her drink on him, and how one of the main words Y/N had been called was whore; the pair only found this funny, though, and would not stop laughing about it for the rest of the night.

“You two see too happy for this early in the morning,” Kiara grumbled as she walked into the house, Pope on her heels. Y/N frowned, having figured JJ took the hammocks they’d clearly taken, and when she glanced at him to see him smirking knowingly at her, she squealed and jumped off of the couch she’d been sat on.

He snorted, throwing his head back onto the seat as he laughed. “I cleaned it! Chill out!”

She looked at him distrustingly, but sat back down anyway.

“Guys, shut up,” Kiara groaned, “My head hurts.”

“It’s not our fault we can handle our alcohol better than you,” Y/N teased, and Kiara looked at her with a deadpan glare.

“You two ran off with Tourons after, like, three drinks,” Pope replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had, like, eight STDs, frankly.”

“Shut up, Pope,” the pair said in unison. Y/N snuck another bite of JJ’s bacon while he wasn’t looking, smiling at him innocently when he gave her a glare.

“What, JJ?” she asked, in a sickly sweet voice, and her best friend grimaced.

“If that’s the voice you use to pick up guys, I’m not surprised I get laid more often than you do,” he stated, and it was her turn to glare then.

She turned to her friends, elbowing JJ in the ribs. “Hey, guys, if JJ and I hypothetically made a bet on which one of us would hook up with the most Tourons this summer, who do you think would win?”

“Really, guys?” Kie groaned. “But definitely Y/N.”

Y/N shot JJ a smirk then, but JJ only arched an eyebrow and pointed to Pope.

“That’s disgusting, but JJ,” he responded, and Y/N whined.

“Pope, I thought we were friends?” she asked.

“We are, and that’s why I said JJ,” he shot back, causing her to roll her eyes.

“I guess Sarah and I are the deciding vote, then?” John B asked, wandering out of his room with Sarah behind him. JJ and Y/N nodded, awaiting their answers. “Sorry, Y/N, but I have to say JJ.”

“Yeah, I agree with John B. It’s JJ,” Sarah chimed in, and Y/N groaned again.

“Shut up, JJ,” she mumbled, feeling his eyes on her.

“Oh, but I didn’t say anything, princess,” he smirked, and she hit his arm lightly.

“I’m going to prove you guys wrong,” she stated, “And there’s a party at the Boneyard tonight. I’ll bring the alcohol, but I have to go or my mom’s going to kill me.”

And, with that, she wandered out of the house, leaving JJ staring after her with a confident grin and the rest of the Pogues looking at each other with irritated expressions.

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