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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

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Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 17: Glory

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 5617 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; verbal fighting; meat (turkey)… for the vegans

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: 1987.

Author’s Note: Reminder that in this fic the new school/college year would begin at the end of January/start of February (because I’m Australian and applied our system to the U.S. accidentally).

This is the final chapter of Angel of the First Degree! Chapter 1 was published at the beginning of August 2022, so it’s been a couple of months riding this very emotional and hopefully healing ride. The story started as one of those little bedtime fantasies. You know the ones where you pretend your pillow is Eddie and you’re totally somewhere else? When I started to write it, I decided that I wanted to put a whole lot self-love, self-acceptance, and self-reconciliation into it. To have so many people read this and get something genuine and positive from it is beyond cool and into the land of super fucking special. Thank you to everyone on the taglist, and to everyone who commented and reblogged. This fic is dedicated to every chubby girl that thinks they’ll never be loved; you will be, and it will be glorious. xo Rhi

You had always hated sleepovers. When you were a kid, your parents put immense pressure on you to be good and polite. Be the perfect guest or else. You stayed rigid, having no fun and remaining quiet. Most of the time you weren’t invited over again purely because you freaked the other kids out. Assuming you had done something wrong to warrant the cold shoulder, your parents would punish you.

In your teenage years you hated them because you were terrified of having to get changed in front of other people. It wasn’t just about the weight you were killing yourself to keep off. Hair. Scars. Moles. Dips. Bumps. Acne. There was a never-ending list of things Hayley could pick on. At school you could duck behind lockers or sneak into toilet stalls. Sleepovers were exposing.

Sleep would never come. Partly, the anxiety was keeping your heart rate too high to settle. The room would be too hot then too cold then back again. Every sound was amplified. Partly, you purposefully kept yourself awake long after everyone else was asleep. You had no idea if you snored or if your tummy gurgled or what other noises your body would make when you weren’t in control. It was a horrifying thought.

Then, 1986.

Then, Eddie.

Then, beautiful healing and glorious acceptance that a body is just a body; it means as much or as little as you wanted.

When Esther invited you to a sleepover in the first week of January, you were genuinely excited. It was just you and her living the slumber party dream. Snacks and movies with cute boys. Sneaking booze and giggling. It was proof that friendship between two girls absolutely could and did work. You needed to learn that after high school.

Esther drove you home mid-morning, hugging you tightly before watching you wave from the trailer door. As you waited for her to drive away, you glanced at Eddie’s van. In a brief and passing thought, you noted that it looked like it was full of boxes or something. Maybe Corroded Coffin got a gig and he was sorting equipment out.

As you entered the trailer, Eddie was closing the bedroom door and turning to walk down the hall.

“Hey, angel,” he greeted, meeting you half way to hug you. He walked you backward until you were in the living room. “Have fun?”

“Mmmhmmm,”

“Break into Esther’s dad’s good stuff again?”

“Yep,” you replied, popping the P.

Eddie grinned. “That’s my girl.”

You nudged your head into his chest, like a cat asking for a pat. He obliged.

“What did you get up to while I was gone?”

“Sex, drugs, rock and roll,”

“You listened to Reign in Blood again while writing that dungeon master guide for Gareth?”

“Yep,” Eddie said, mimicking your tone and popping the P.

You smiled at each other, then Eddie let you go. When you stepped around him, intending on throwing your backpack down in the bedroom, he grabbed your wrist.

“Ah, actually, could you sit in here for a second? I have some… news.”

Anxiety’s greatest hit Flight or Fight started playing in your head. The moment he saw your eyes go wide and body freeze, Eddie tried to smile, taking you to the couch. You let him take your bag off and hold your hands.

“I don’t like this,” you blurted out.

“It’s nothing bad! It’s good. I promise. I mean… I think it’s good. It’s good.” He was reassuring himself as much as you.

This was the moment.

Eddie had been orchestrating your future for weeks. In the process, he had broken the law, forced all your friends to keep secrets from you, invaded your privacy, and made sweeping guesses about decisions you should have been the one to make all along. But it was all for you. It was to make it up to you. It was to give you what you deserved. It was to show you that he loved you. That he would be by your side no matter what you were doing or where you were doing it.

All you had to do was accept it. Eddie was terrified that you still hadn’t learnt how to do that.

“I’m gonna say some shit, and you’re gonna want to tell me to shut up. And, uh, I’m bringing up some stuff that we said we wouldn’t talk about anymore. But you’ve got to promise you’ll hear me out. Like, just let me finish this whole thing before you… lose it or whatever. It’s the only way you’re going to understand. You have to promise.”

Your eyes were already welled up with tears and there was nothing Eddie could do about it. As he held your hands, he kept looking from your matching red rings back up to your scared face.

“But it’s good?” you whispered. The single guess your brain would allow was that he was going to break up with you because of something that had already happened, something you had no power over anymore. You needed him to tell you it was good, that it was going to be okay.

Eddie nodded. “Yes. Yes, I promise. Nobody’s dying,”

“You’re not br-”

“No! No. Sorry. Sorry, I should have started with that. Fuck. I’m fucking this up. Planned every goddamn detail but it’s all coming apart now… Ah, no. No. We’re good. We’re… great… I’m sorry. I’m… nervous. That’s why I need you to just hang in there and let me get it all out,”

“Okay,” you promised, your expression no less sad but slightly less scared.

Eddie took a breath and forced himself to look at you as he spoke. “We… were stupid to never talk about this year. Like, after high school. We never talked about it but I knew you’d applied to colleges. It was kind of in the back of my mind. You know? I just kept ignoring it because I’d just got you, like, really properly had you and if I thought about you disappearing on me… It, ah, worse than sucked? Freaked me out. Then the letters came and I… I don’t even know what I did. Turned into my dad. I was just… scared-

Then you said you didn’t want to go and we could pretend nothing happened and it was fine for like, a second, but it wasn’t really… I felt like shit for making you have to pretend you never wanted to go. Because you did. And I don’t know if you really believe everything you said, about it just being a way to get away from your parents. But, um, I didn’t believe it… I still don’t… So… Yeah… I had fucked up in this huge way that meant pushing your life onto a path it shouldn’t’ve been on… So… So, I’ve… fixed it…”

It sounded like one long sentence, void of punctuation and pause. You had rebuttals for many points but were focused on waiting until the end.

Eddie read your face, the way your lips were slightly parted and your eyes had cleared. He continued.

“I’ve been tryna find the right way to tell you everything. You know, in a way that explains it all properly. So you don’t have a million questions. Dustin said to start at the end and work my way back, but I think that will just confuse you. Kid thinks it will be romantic that way, but I think this is beyond… all that… Esther said to start at the start, which sounds dumb now I say it out loud. But, you know, my head was tellin’ me not all good stories start at the start, you know?”

“Eddie.” He was rambling, getting off topic.

“Sorry. Fuck. Sorry. Yeah… I’m starting at the start. And, um, the start is that I called The University of Chicago and got them to re-send your acceptance letter and all the other stuff. We did all the paperwork and shit. Enrolled you. We had to pick some classes, but you can change them once you're there, if you want to, and-”

You let go of his hands and stood up. “Eddie. I’m not going-”

He yelled your name, startling you into silence. “You are. You are going, but I’m going with you. Please just fucking sit down and let me finish.”

Slowly you moved back towards him. Eddie reached out and held you by the hips, pulled you back down onto the couch gently.

“You’re going. You’re enrolled. The only thing I couldn’t do was apply to get your scholarship conditions changed. The letter is ready to go, all you have to do is sign it and hand it in, in person. You can petition to change the ‘cost of living’ from a dorm to rental cheques. It’s not a dollar-for-dollar swap, but it’s something to help with rent, you know?”

No. No, you didn’t know. Eddie was using words and phrases you had never heard before. You didn’t know what a ‘cost of living’ condition was, and you didn’t know what he meant by ‘help with the rent.’

“I got an apartment. It’s tiny. Like, smaller than the trailer, but it will be enough for us. You’ll catch a train to class. And, um, I got a job. You know John?”

“Wayne’s John?”

“Yeah. Cath’s sister owns a bar. She’s giving me a trial shift, but I won’t fuck it up. Know my around the bottles so that’s pretty much a sure thing.”

You still didn’t know what was happening, not really, but it was nice to hear Eddie back himself. He paused, searching his mind for any other important details.

“I think… think that’s it. Your scholarship pays for most things you need. I’ve got enough saved to cover us for a few months. That’s why I’ve been selling so much. For this. And that’s what I was doing in Chicago… Uh, yeah. Alright. That’s… it.”

Eddie had his concentration face on. Eyes to the ceiling and tongue poking out, he was thinking. When the expression softened into neutral warmth, he looked at you expectedly.

Your body felt weightless, like it was floating. When you stood and walked down the hallway, you were just as surprised as Eddie. One foot in front of the other, you let your body take you to the bedroom, open the door, and turn the light on.

The room was packed up. There were three boxes neatly stacked in the corner, labelled ‘Eddie – childhood shit,’ ‘Wayne,’ and ‘donate/trash.’ The furniture remained, but even the mattress had been stripped of linen. Eddie’s posters weren’t on the walls. Angel and Hellfire were nowhere to be seen. Everything was gone.

“It’s all in the van,” Eddie explained from behind you. “Landlord said there’s no parking spaces for the building, but there’s an empty lot across the road everyone uses.”

When you stepped into the bedroom, it felt surreal.

“We’ll be there by late afternoon. Got a couple stops on the way.”

You spun around to face him. “Wait. What? What do you mean?”

Eddie frowned, looked around the room he had grown up in. “We’re leaving today,” he said, spelling it out.

“No…” You shook your head. “I… I can’t just… We…” Shock? Were you in a state of pure shock. Reaching out for something to ground you, Eddie was there before you could take another step. He clasped his hands to yours.

“You can. We can. Everythin’ is ready. All we gotta do is go. All you’ve gotta do is trust me… And you do. You trust me, right?”

Blinking hard, you stopped looking around the room and focused on Eddie. His baby cow eyes that inspired Hellfire. His soft lips that sang Tupelo Honey. Slowly, you nodded.

“Yeah? I’ve got you… I know this is scary. It’s terrifying for me too. I’ve never really done more than sit around here and sell weed. Never had actual responsibilities or whatever. But we can do this,”

“We can do this,” you repeated in a whisper.

Period blood and fat rolls and food. Pressed flowers and red gems and vinyl records. Anxiety attacks and displaced fear and shame. Fangoria hoodies and fairy lights and kitten ears. You could do this.

A tear rolled down your cheek, just another for Eddie to wipe away. He leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. When you leaned up into him, he kissed your lips and pulled you into him hard.

“Wayne will be home soon. Let’s eat something and wait,”

“Does he know?”

“Yeah. Everyone does. They’re all waiting for us to come see ‘em before we go.”

Homesick. You felt homesick and you hadn’t even left the trailer.

Eddie had only just covered the Honeycomb with milk when the rumble of Wayne’s truck made you jump up off your seat like a dog waiting for their owner. As soon as he was in the door, you ran to him and clung.

“Guess it’s happening then,” he said, a sorrow to his tone you didn’t quite catch.

The sobbing was out of your control. Eddie came to hug you into a Munson sandwich. Both he and Wayne were doing their best manly man thing in a shitty attempt to not cry too. Wayne’s jaw was clenched tight and Eddie’s eyes glistened with tears.

When you took a nearly-normal breath, Eddie wrapped his arms around you from behind and hoisted you up, carrying back to the kitchen. You stood at the bench and looked into the bowl of cereal, your stomach in knots.

“You gonna eat that?” Wayne asked, taking the bar stool seat opposite you.

Shaking your head, you slid it across to him.

“What are you gonna do with all the quiet?” Eddie asked his uncle.

“Sleep. In a bed. Regularly,” Wayne answered. He was playing it cool but you knew he’d be lonely without Eddie. “Proud of you both. Gonna go make something of yourselves,”

“I mean, let’s not get carried away. She’s the genius. I’m just bartending,”

“You’re leaving Hawkins, Ed. S’not nothing.”

Eddie looked at Wayne, then quickly turned his head away, wiping the tears before they could fall.

“Nobody’s died, kid. Chin up,” he said to you then.

“I’m scared,” you admitted.

Eddie stepped closer to you, pressing his side into yours.

“Being an adult is scary. And trusting someone else with all your shit is scary. But after last year, somethin’ tells me it’s gonna be alright.” It was less optimism and more sage wisdom.

The three of you stayed together for a round of instant coffee, then Wayne presented a parting gift. It was a brand new toolbox fully stocked with essentials. “Never know when a screwdriver comes in handy,” he’d said.

Wayne hugged you tight and watched you get into Eddie’s van, crying again. You couldn’t hear the words exchanged between the two, but you watched them through the windshield and felt guilty for separating them.

Eddie climbed into the driver’s seat and took an audible breath out. “Okay,” he said mostly to himself. He looked over at you and nodded. “Okay?”

You couldn’t muster words, but you affirmed him with a nod.

As the van pulled out of Forest Hills Trailer Park for the last time in a long time, you didn’t bother asking where the next step was. The resignation hit you hard and it felt like exhaustion. You were too tired to think about what was happening to you. The emotions were all so intense and so conflicting that it had begun to feel like the absence of emotion. You just stared out the window and disassociated.

Reality crept back into your mind when the route to Esther’s house became apparent. As Eddie turned onto her street, you burst into tears again. They were all waiting.

Esther’s garage door was opened, shielding the group from the January cold. Once Gene spotted the van, everyone came running down the drive waving.

Esther and Gene. Gareth and Jeff. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will Byers, who had yet to return to California. Max and El. Even Jonathan and Argyle stood against the house, sharing a joint.

Your door was ripped open and Esther pulled you from the van. Although tears were streaming down her face, she was grinning ear to ear.

“This is good. This is good!” she kept repeating, knowing you needed to hear it as much as possible.

The group presented you and Eddie with a large box, wrapped in a comically big bow. It only just fitted into the van, Eddie and Jeff pulling stuff out to play Tetris with boxes and bags.

“Open it when you get there,” Esther instructed.

“We all helped,” Dustin added.

Everyone wanted to tell you what role they had played in this grand gesture of love and faith. Dustin and Suzie, and the hacking of The University of Chicago’s system. Gareth keeping you busy while the others filled in college paperwork and agonised over what elective classes to enroll you in.

When you had spoken to everyone and there was nothing to do but leave, you felt like you were going to puke. You had genuine and kind and weird and wonderful friends that truly knew you and loved you. And you were about to leave them.

“Chicago is only a couple hours away,” Jeff reminded you.

“And if Notre Dame doesn’t work out, maybe we’ll transfer and come crash your party,” Esther added. She had told everyone about how Notre Dame only began to accept women students as of 1972. Esther was already ready for fight, so you knew she’d burn it down before letting it give her anything other than a world class education. She and Jeff had both been accepted and would live in dorms on campus.

Gene was off to The University of Illinois, leaving Gareth in charge of the now-sophomores and Hellfire Club. “Look after the children,” Eddie said to him, ruffling his fluffy hair.

Eddie had resolved himself, helping you and your shaky knees back into the van after hugging everyone again. You cried and watched everyone run after the van for as long as they could, which, for a bunch of nerds and freaks, wasn’t long.

The van pulled over once Eddie had driven around the corner and down the block a little. He pulled the hand break on and got out. When he opened your door, you launched yourself at him, letting him hold you while you sobbed.

Eddie moved you until you were pressed into the little space between the van and open door, keeping some of the cool air from getting to you. Three bittersweet minutes passed before you could collect yourself, sniffling and wiping your nose on your sleeve.

You looked up at Eddie and his beautiful face.

“Next stop is optional,” he said softly.

Nodding, you hugged him again.

“They don’t deserve it, but, I don’t know, it might be good for you?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I want to.”

Driving through your old neighbourhood was strange. People’s yards had changed. Plants had grown. Shutters repainted.

Your parents’ Ford Escort was parked in the driveway of the house you’d never really called home. Looking at it, you remembered what it was all like before Eddie found you behind the woodwork shed. Before Of Mice and Men. Before ‘basketball’ safe words and sticker charts.

“Ready?” Eddie asked. When you nodded, you both got out of the van.

Like she had done when Eddie last was there, your mother opened the front door before he could knock. You stopped walking when she did, suddenly afraid of her. She said your name like you’d returned from the dead. Eddie felt your hand squeeze his tighter.

“Do- Do you want to come in?”

You and Eddie followed her through the living room and into the formal dining space. Your father was at the table, newspaper in hand and a cup of coffee sitting on a coaster. He folded the paper in half and set it aside as the three of you entered the room.

“Please, sit. Do you want tea? Coffee?” your mother asked, a picture of a perfect host. She seemed more fragile than you remembered. You’d grown for nine months in her womb. She had birthed you, bloody, raw, and screaming. And there she was, offering tea.

“No. We’re not staying,” you answered.

The house was quiet and clean. Sanitised. Lobotomised.

“Then, to what do we owe this pleasure?” The cruelty had not shifted from your father’s voice.

“I’m leaving.”

Your mother looked to your father for the right reaction. He looked genuinely shocked, and you saw it in the few seconds he took to hide it.

“I’m taking her to Chicago. She’s going to college. Guess we owe you a thanks for bringing the letters ‘round,” Eddie said in the same voice that always guaranteed detention.

Before he could speak again, and he was just about to, you pre-emptively cut your father off. You knew what he was going to say. “Eddie’s got a job there. We have an apartment. If anything else comes for me in the mail, forward it to the trailer park.” You could have said ‘forward it to Forest Hills’ or even ‘to Wayne Munson,’ but you very specifically wanted to say ‘trailer park.’

“Well, what’s your new phone number if-” your mother started, grabbing a pen and notepad from the dining room’s buffet drawer.

“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “If someone dies, call Wayne at the park. Otherwise, that’s it.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Eddie was committing the expression on your parents’ faces to memory. He was delighted at their floundering. And you, you were surprised at how easy it was to do it – to say goodbye on your own terms. They suddenly stopped being so terrifying, instead, they were just… pathetic.

“What did you want then?” your father asked.

It was a fair question and you gave it a moment’s thought. “I want… I want you to know that I’m happy. That I’ve been happy. Happy living in a one-bedroom trailer. Happy being in love with the big bad drug dealer. Happy eating bad food and getting fat. Happy drinking underage. Happy having sex. And like, weird sex too. I’ve been happy being me. Because I’m good. I’m good and smart and beautiful and strong, and it has nothing to do with you. That’s… that’s what I want. I want you to know that everything good about me is not because of you. And I hardly think about you… So, if someone dies, you can call Wayne. Maybe I’ll come. It really fucking depends on what I’m doing that day.”

Eddie had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from laughing or cheering. His eyes went wide and he stared straight at the ground because he knew if he kept looking at the dumbfounded and horrified looks on your parents’ faces, he’d lose it entirely.

You finished your speech, feeling beyond exhilarated. “Fuck,” you said to yourself.

“Fuck,” Eddie agreed.

You looked at him and his ten billion megawatt smile. “I love you,”

“Oh, no, I love you,” he replied, a small chuckle following his words.

You and Eddie collided in a kiss, then left the room without so much as a final glance or one single word more.

…

Maybe it wouldn’t be the last time you and Eddie jumped the fence and walked to the secret spot behind Hawkins’ drive-in, but it probably would be. You sat side-by-side on the ripped out backseat and got lost in your minds.

Eddie thought about when he asked Ms. Kelly and Mr. Barnes for help. He thought about the day you handed him a list of words. About the softness of your thighs and the smell of burnt paper and the trust you’d placed in him.

You thought about smashing pumpkins with Esther and Jeff, and the school dance and hotel room. About Build-a-Bear and gingerbread armies and how Eddie’s fuzzy hair was lit light a halo on sunny days.

“Are you gonna miss it?” you asked Eddie.

“No… You?”

“No. I don’t so.”

…

Two months later.

“Nobody will know. I’ll be super sneaky,”

“Eddie… There is nothing about you that flies under the radar.”

Eddie sat on the edge of the fold-up bed. It was the one Wayne used to sleep on, and it was on the ‘to do’ list. The list was as follows:

get permission to repaint ceiling

repaint ceiling

need: T.V.

need: VHS player

need: some houseplants

send Wayne dumb postcard

replace bed

pizza coupons

get quotes to Eve

BUY 1987 CALENDAR ASAP why? – to put down my due dates and your shift times – that’s cute

need: bedside table?

call everyone to give number/address

need: bookshelf

put extra lock on door and windows

try Niko again – who’s Niko – from The Hideout - ?? – not the Hawkins one

“Please? I wanna know what it’s like to be one of the special smart people.”

You pulled your jumper over your head and looked over at him. He grinned and winked. It was ridiculous.

“I’m leaving in ten minutes,” you warned, giving in.

As you packed your college notebook and texts, and put a layer of mascara on, Eddie hurried around. Jeans and boots – his Reeboks were the first casualty of Chicago weather – and a heavy jacket.

The apartment was easy to keep warm. It was small, barely more than a room. A kitchen nook and space for a circular two-seater table. A thrifted television set sitting on a coffee table, and a bookcase. The fold out bed was pushed up against the far wall. And, the bathroom could only hold one of you at a time. Still, it was perfect.

On the train to college, you rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder and closed your eyes. It was nice to have him there.

“So fancy,” Eddie whispered as you made your way into one of the buildings and through to the lecture hall.

You took your usual seat to the left, near the back but not too far. “You have to be quiet,” you said to Eddie.

He mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key. You were smiling at him when Kamala threw herself into the seat on your other side.

“I swear to fucking god, the guy who makes my coffee spits in it,”

“What?”

“Here. Taste this. Does it taste like spit?” She shoved a cup of takeaway coffee in your hand. “Seriously. Does that taste weird?”

From behind you, Eddie’s arm reached around and he took the cup. You and Kamala watched as he took a fearless mouthful, then handed it back to her.

“Yep. That’s spit alright,”

“I fucking knew it,”

“Eddie, don’t encourage her,” you warned.

“Holy shit. This is Eddie?” She dramatically leaned forward to peer around you at him. He gave her a little wave; she gave him nothing. Sitting back up she gave you a face you absolutely couldn’t read.

“What?”

“He’s like… Super hot,”

“Yeah,”

“Even though he looks like he listened to bands that use more hairspray than me,”

“He does,”

“No, I’m fucking serious. He’s like… Super babe material,” Kamala said like it was going to be on the test. She looked around the room. When you followed her gaze, you realised she wasn’t the only one that had spied Eddie and his hotness. “Seriously, like, what the fuck. I can’t get a guy to shower once a day, and you have this motherfucking rockstar wrapped around your finger.”

You liked Kamala because she swore a lot and could not be told a single thing. People tried. Debates in class were frequent and lively. But she annihilated them each and every time.

Kamala looked at Eddie and narrowed her eyes. “Hi,”

“Hi?”

“Do you have any hot friends?”

You snorted. Dustin called Eddie every other day. If it wasn’t him, it was Gareth with DM questions or Jeff bitching about frat parties.

“I’m one of a kind,” Eddie replied, full charm. You rolled your eyes.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kamala sighed, falling back into her seat, finishing her spit coffee.

After the lecture, Eddie hung around for a couple of hours while you worked in the library. He had his own notebook with him, still writing songs and poems, and wrestling with the idea of starting a new band. “Feels like cheating, you know?” is what he’d say whenever you talked about it. Corroded Coffin were hours apart but still so alive in all four of their hearts.

Eddie kissed you goodbye and caught the train back to the city for his shift at Eve’s bar. He had proven to be an adequate bartender, but that isn’t where he showed his worth. Eddie convinced one random guy he met in a music store to play at Eve’s. The band brought in a few extra people, a few more beers sold. He did it again. And again. After only a month there, Eve paid Eddie extra to double as the bar’s booking agent. By the end of the second month, she agreed to renovating the stage and clearing out one of the hardly used storeroom to turn into a greenroom.

You cleared your week’s reading requirements and had a basic skeleton for your next essay. By 4:00 pm, you felt on top of everything and wandered back through the library and headed out to find coffee. The air outside was bitter, the days averaging only 36°F (2°C), as you hurried along.

“Hey, honey. The usual?” Kasey asked, your favourite barista in your favourite on campus café. You liked that her name was Kasey; it made you think about the one you’d left behind in Starcourt 2.0. Build-a-Bear Kasey. Her nimble hands stitching together your beloved teddies. Maybe you’d always have a Kasey, somewhere in the periphery of your life.

“Yes, please,”

“Kam was in here before. Said she met the Eddie,”

“She did,”

“She said he was really hot,”

“Yeah. She asked if he had any friends.”

Kasey laughed. “Of course, she did.”

Kasey was easy to talk to, and even once she handed you your matcha latte, you hung around a little while longer.

On the train back to the city, you savoured the grassiness of the latte. Nobody in Hawkins was drinking matcha. Well, Esther’s parents might have been. They’d always been trendy, like their daughter. You missed Esther, but she was due to visit at the end of the term. She’d promised to show you all the secret spots in the city that you could only know by growing up there.

You swapped trains, catching the L to get to Eve’s bar. It was between knock off and dinner time, so it was busy. When you walked in, Eve sauntered by with a tray of beers.

“Hey, babe. He’s just gone on break,”

“Thanks, Eve.”

Rounding the bar and smiling at the new guy, you went through to the back and announced your arrival with a knock on the break room door. Eddie was inside the room, stretched out on the couch that had decades of questionable stains.

“Angel,” he greeted, opening his arms wide.

You dumped your bag on the table and flopped down onto him. He kissed your face all over.

“How’s work?” you asked him.

“The usual. Managed to get a hold of Neko over at The Hideout. Says he’ll throw me some scraps,”

“That’s good right? Even their rejects are better than other places’ headliners?” You were just parroting back what Eddie had told you about the place, but it showed Eddie you were listening and you understood.

“Yep. See how it goes. Eve seems impressed that he took my call, so there’s that. What about you?”

“Finished my readings early,”

“Cool. Maybe we can do something this weekend then?”

“Do you mean like, go out or like, order pizza and paint the roof?” you asked.

“I don’t know what it says about me, but honestly both sound kind of fun,” Eddie admitted, happy boyish smile. You stayed cuddled together for a minute more, then he asked, “So… I like Kamala.”

You laughed. “She told Kasey about you,”

“Kasey is… coffee friend?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie laughed. “If only the Hawkins High basketball team could see me now,”

“Fighting babes off,”

“Should we write to Jason Carver?”

“I think we have to,” you replied, looking up at him grinning. “Anyway. You hungry? I brought dinner.” Eddie let you up so you could go to your bag and pull out two frozen microwave meals. “Stopped at the place on the corner. You want the chicken or the beef?”

It was incredibly unglamorous, sitting in a dingy room eating two dollar microwave meals. It wasn’t what happened in the romance novels you sometimes read for escapism. It didn’t feel cool or grunge or metal. It just felt like life.

When you were in Senior year, you had thought to yourself that the weekends were where the glory was. You remembered that exact phrasing. Playing footsy under the table, you looked over at Eddie. It was this, this average weeknight of your new normal life, that’s where the glory really was.

Glory in the healing. In the trust and future plans and to do lists. Glory in the quiet. In the fresh paint and fire escape joints and having a warm cup of tea waiting for Eddie when he got home. Glory in the love. In the sex as snow fell and phone calls home to Wayne and in semi-precious stones. Glory in every single day you spent with Eddie Munson.

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 @briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana @mrsdollardog @tayhar811 @chickennug90 @b-irock @nana90azevedo @eddiemunson95 @akiratoro420

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24 @mel-the-fangirl

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader

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dcbbw · 1 year

Text

In Progress

Hello, fellow tumblrs! I know I haven’t been around as much, and for sure not as engaged as I used to be. Can I just say that since 2019, my professional and personal lives have been filled with next-level adulting and living the consequences of other folks’ life choices. Add on that 2020-3 has been a major Groundhog Day cluster, and that’s my life now.

Maybe I’ll return to my Good Daughter WIP and write it ALLLLL out. Maybe I’ll discover I’m not alone with my frustration, anger, and innermost thoughts. Or you all will find out just who I am when I take off my masks and allow myself to be vulnerable in front of God.

We’ll see.

In the meantime, I have been working on some writing and hopefully in the very near future, I’ll be posting some things for your reading pleasure super soon (if you’re interested; I know you guys have options).

Snippets and synopses are below the cut. Everything is in a form of draft, and final editions may vary.

Trudy Sloane (#Sloane Washington Appreciation Week)

Song Inspo: Closer, Gaopele

Sloane Washington sat on the side of her bed, running her palms over her face. A twinge of pain in her shoulder caused her to roll her neck in an attempt to alleviate the hurt. She exhaled a quiet sigh as her eyes opened; they blinked as they adjusted to the darkness.

The quiet in her domicile sounded … different. Despite having shared her space with not one, but two people for months, it was no longer a temporary thing. Sloane extended her left hand, feeling the heaviness of the engagement ring on her third finger permeate her entire body.

Gertrude Sloane Washington was engaged. To be married. The permanence of her answer changed everything. Or perhaps nothing. Time would tell. Naked, she rose and padded silently across the bedroom floor to a rocking chair that sat in a corner of the room. There was just enough moonlight eking through the closed blinds for her to make out her robe laying atop the pile of unfolded laundry that sat on the chair’s seat.

Her hair, normally plaited in an elaborate coronet braid, was twisted into two thick ponytails, one hanging over each shoulder blade. She lifted the tresses while black polyester fabric whispered against soft, almond-colored skin as she shrugged into the covering. Sloane glanced over at the still-sleeping body in the bed; it heaved slightly and rhythmically, in sync with slumber-filled breath.

Khaan Mousavi. The man who would be her husband.

Sloane walked over, feeling the stickiness from their earlier coupling between her honeyed thighs before scooping her cellphone from the end table and exiting the room.

The Poisoned Apple (Birthday Fic for @bebepac)

Song Inspo: Somewhere in the Universe, Pity Party

“Nico,” she called out in an authoritative voice.

No answer.

She jiggled her wrist and forearm, causing the handcuff tethering her to the bed’s guardrail to rattle. “I know you hear me,” she taunted.

Pain, disgust, and desire coursed through his blood as Nico tensed at her words, at the very sound of her voice.

He hated her. She had murdered his son. His only child.

He loved her. He had loved her mother first, and as with her mother, Nico found himself vying with another for her affections, her attentions.

The Brooks/Rys women were trouble. Difficult, messy, drama magnets.

Dangerous.

“I’m not guilty of Nicolai’s death yet, and I never will be. The hand-picked congress my dear father is pulling out of his ass as we speak to ensure my innocence will make certain of that.”

Nico finally turned away from the windows, a disdainful expression on his face and a smirk on his lips. “Oh, is that why the King of Cordonia has placed you in a psych ward under a 72-hour hold? Because you’re so innocent? Or is it because of your true lineage?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed threateningly. “Mind your words and your tone, Guard. I am still the heir to the Cordonian throne.”

“Are you?” He moved slowly, deliberately closer to the bed. “Being a royal, there may not be actions taken against you for taking my son’s life, but there will be consequences.”

For the first time since Crown Princess Eleanor had been admitted to the facility, uncertainty flickered in her chocolate-brown eyes and a frisson of fear licked at her belly. No one saw her with Nicolai; no one saw her push her him off the cliff’s edge.

Everything hinged on her story, and as the only witness to her boyfriend’s death from an “accidental fall”, her story was the truth.

Her eyes followed Nico’s movements as he drew closer to her: the stealth-like way he walked, his shoes making no noise against the floor; the rigidness in his broad shoulders; the blank expression on his face, as if Ellie were an everyday object.

“Nicolai fell! He lost his footing and fell.”

Nico shook his head slightly. “Too convenient. My son, a King’s Guardsman, lost his footing on dry land the day after he discovered us naked together? You killed him, and you owe me the why, Eleanor.”

Partner Knows Best (Ask from @peonierose)

Song Inspo: Rollin’, Blessing Offor

Who knows who best? That is the question, and hopefully I can provide some answers. Debating between using the Him & Her crew (Mermaids, Riam, SGL x Riley B., UnRomance Liam x Riley) and the DC AU crew; leaning towards Him & Her because I have ideas/plans for DC.

Below are their questions; let me know in the comments if you have any better ones!

· Who’s the early riser?

· Go-to breakfast?

· What’s their love language?

· Sun, snow, rain?

· Who initiates sex?

· Who loves harder?

· First to apologize?

· One must-have if stranded on a deserted island?

· Who’s the better communicator?

· Who’s the better driver?

· Who’s needier when they’re ill?

· Who’s more likely to walk away from the relationship?

· Where do you see the relationship in five years?

Hell to the Hail (ask from @peonierose)

No song inspo yet

The DC AU gang celebrate a belated Valentine’s Day together (I call it PALentine’s), where Leo gloats over the Kansas City Chiefs’ 2nd Superbowl win, much to a salty a.f. SGL’s dismay.

Also, working on updating next chapters of Mermaids, Discontent, Platinum AU; a Commoner’s Wife one-shot; and quite possibly some Liara for Kiara Theron Appreciation Week.

Thanks for reading, and sticking with me during this ongoing, long-running trying time. Your support, encouragement, and care mean the absolute WORLD to me!

Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @jovialyouthmusic @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @burnsoslow @lizzybeth1986

#dcbbw will write #fanfic wips #very soon #perfect match #trr/trh #swaw #writers on tumblr #writeblr

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shera-dnd · 1 year

Text

Decided to practice some self care by writing a short fic for myself instead of like for rent money (which reminds me that we're really close to meeting our final goal)

So if you've watched Witch From Mercury and would like to watch Mio-Mio overthink the hell out of her feelings, or simply love some useless lesbians please consider giving this a read

Suletta’s time in House Earth had been surprisingly pleasant. After the absolute anxiety-inducing rollercoaster that her time with… well, just about anyone else had been, it was nice having people she got to just hangout and relax with.

Not to mention the progress she had been making on her wishlist. She had friends, went to slumber parties, even got to call people cute nicknames. It was all so perfect.

Though there was still one aspect of the house she still struggled to get used to.

"It 's okay. Take it slow,” Nika reassured her, holding her hand, “it’s not gonna bite.”

The goat stared curiously up at the two of them, and poor Suletta squirmed in place trying to pull away from the terrifying creature. Nika, for her part, was trying her best to just calm both the human and the goat as they came closer and closer to physical contact.

“Suletta Mercury!” Came a far too familiar shout as the door was kicked open.

The goat cried out, almost biting Suletta’s hand, and the poor mercurian girl jumped back, hiding behind Nika from both the goat and her bride.

“Hey, what’s the deal!?” Chu Chu called from deeper in the room, stomping her way up to their new guest.

“M-M-M-Miorine?” Suletta stammered, in that over exaggerated way only she could manage, “what are you doing here?”

Miorine crossed her arms and looked down upon her, refusing to take another step into the room.

“I’m here to speak to the Holder!” She announced. When no one moved from where they were, she added, “alone!”

“Like hell you are,” Chu Chu intervened, “I’m not letting you bully her into submission again. If you have something to say to her, you can say it right now.”

“Fine,” Miorine huffed, “Suletta, in the past weeks you’ve been proposed to by my former groom, almost got inducted into an enemy house, and nearly lost both me and Aerial to that prick, Ceres,” she listed off, getting more and more angry with each item, making Suletta shrink further and further behind Nika.

“S-S-S-Sorry!” Suletta cried, “I never meant to do any of that.”

“It’s obvious I cannot trust you to take care of yourself alone, so it’s about time I take matters into my own hands,” Miorine declared, taking her first step into the room. Chu Chu’s fists tightened, and Suletta worried this would escalate. “Suletta Mercury, are you free this friday?”

There was a beat of tension as her words hung in the air.

Chu Chu was the first to break the silence.

“Figures,” she scoffed, “of course the spacian princess can’t even ask her own bride on a date properly.”

“Date!?” Suletta squeaked, scaring the goat again.

Miorine sighed, “I said I’m taking matters into my own hands,” she explained, “if you’re so desperate for dates that you’ll just continue to risk your well being and mine, then I have no choice but to handle this myself. From this point on I will be your date!”

“It would have been nice if you were a little more romantic about it,” Suletta muttered to herself, more than a little disappointed that this was how Miorine finally decided to ask her out.

“What did you just say!?” Miorine shouted, stomping her foot down.

“N-N-N-Nothing!” She squeaked back, “I’d love to go on a date with you, Ms. Miorine!”

“Good,” Miorine answered with a nod, “I’ll be expecting you at 6pm exactly. Do wear something nice.”

And with that she stormed off, leaving Suletta to recover from what had been the most terrifying few minutes of her life.

She wasn’t sure she would survive the date.

~~~

Miorine’s plan had been going spectacularly.

Their dinner date had been lovely, and treating Suletta to foods she had never even heard of before had been truly a stroke of genius on her part.

At this rate she would never feel the need to go on dates with anybody else, and will cease to be a risk to Miorine’s health and sanity.

This plan had been entirely practical, of course.

Of all the possible Holders, Suletta was the one who best suited her.

She had no house relations, meaning she has no reason or ability to manipulate Miorine for political gain. She’s an incredibly competent pilot, meaning she would be able to hold her position almost indefinitely. And their personalities gelled well enough that she couldn’t see either of them trying to strangle the other in their sleep.

That had been the primary reason Chu Chu had been removed from her list of bearable brides and grooms.

So in the end maintaining Suletta’s loyalty proved to be the best tactic moving forward, and these “dates” were the best way of doing so.

Though Miorine wouldn’t be fooling anyone if she claimed she didn’t find any personal joys in this plan either. Not only was this a delightful way of standing up to her father, it was also a great excuse for treating herself well and enjoying a night out every once in a while.

Suletta too proved to be an unexpected benefit. Miorine would never have guessed that the mercurian girl even had a suit, let alone that she’d actually look good in one.

Though she would have preferred if Suletta had donned something in the white and gold of the Holder; just something to remind everyone else around that she was Miorine’s and not anyone else’s.

Especially not a certain bullheaded, pink haired, idiot who needed to be put in his place.

“T-Thank you, Miss Miorine,” Suletta muttered as they walked away from the restaurant.

There was something wrong with how she said that. Something that didn’t feel right.

Ah.

Of course! She was such a fool!

Dates weren’t the only things on Suletta’s wishlist. There were nicknames too.

If Miorine didn’t indulge that too, then she’ll obviously just run away to seek another person to give cutesy nicknames to.

She had to correct her mistakes fast. Though she didn’t have it in her to do more than mutter her correction.

“What did you say?” Suletta asked, blinking in confusion.

“I said you can call me Mio-Mio!” She yelled.

“Are you serious?” Suletta asked, disbelieving.

“I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t,” Miorine argued, downright annoyed, “just don’t do it in public. I don’t want those idiots from the earth house to think they can just call me that now.”

“You mean only I get to call you, Mio-Mio?” Suletta asked, and she was pretty sure she saw stars in that girl’s eyes.

“Yes! Just keep this between the two of us, my… uh,” damn it, think fast, what was something that reminded her of Suletta, “my tomato.”

“What was that!?” Suletta squeaked, and Miorine regreted every decision she made that led to this moment.

“Nothing!” She shouted, turning to look away.

“Did you just give me a nickname?” Suletta asked, jumping in front of Miorine with unexpected excitement.

“I did no such thing!” She deflected.

“But you just called me your tomato,” Suletta insisted, getting way too close to Miorine’s face, “it was really cute, Miss Mi– I-I mean, Mio-Mio.”

“Hmph!” Miorine huffed, crossing her arms to protect herself from her own embarrassment, “whatever! Let’s just go home.”

Without waiting for her bride’s response she began speed walking towards the closest transport station, hoping Suletta would take a hint.

She very much did not.

“Wait!” Suletta called, rushing after her, “can we hold hands on our way back?”

Damn it, that Mercury girl really was sex crazed.

“Is that part of your wishlist?” Miorine demanded.

“Y-Y-Y-Yes!”

Of course something like that would be on her list…

With a wordless grumble Miorine shot her hand to the side so Suletta could grab it.

She could feel her cheeks heat up when Suletta took her hand with giggly excitement.

It had come to her attention then, that her plan may have worked better than intended.

#gundam the witch from mercury #witch from mercury #miorine rembran #suletta mercury #mioletta #fanfic

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sepulchritude · 11 months

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I got bored and decided to reread my fic in a new way, so here’s the official The Simple Truth—

Kokichi Lie Count (by chapter)

9 (nice)

That’s an average of about 4 lies per chapter. I didn’t include times when he intentionally prods at people to get a reaction unless it involved a direct lie, but I did include a few lies by omission.

Analysis below 👇

The two 0 lie chapters are pretty interesting to me because tbh that’s pretty out of character for him. In chapter 11 Kokichi doesn’t have a big role (although that doesn’t stop him in other similar chapters) and spends most of his time sniping back and forth with Maki. Genuine dislike trumps chronic lying habit I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But in chapter 17 he has a ton of screen time, they’re having a sleepover with Kaito and Maki and they’re all sitting around chatting while they do slumber party stuff (#girlsnight), but Kokichi just isn’t lying. Not even casual funny lies to match the lighthearted vibes of the scene. He’s still being himself (nuisance) but he doesn’t quite feel the need to be dishonest about anything. It’s interesting and as the author I kinda want to poke and prod at this chapter more to figure out what’s up with him here

As for chapter 15 with a whopping 11 lies in a single conversation, this one makes a lot of sense. He thinks he’s going to enjoy a little light vandalism, theft, and mischief in Tsumugi’s office, only to be confronted by a Tsumugi who is not acting anymore and is happily ready to verbally rip him to shreds using like five deeply ingrained insecurities he barely knows he has. He is not ready lmfao and he lies and deflects as much as he can to cover for the fact that she’s hitting hard and he can’t land a scratch on her. RIP 💀

This was a cool lens to analyze this fic with! In terms of finding a pattern in Kokichi’s lying, I’d say it’s not right to just conclude “oh he lies under pressure” or “oh he lies because it’s fun.” Those are both true. He lies to distract people, to mislead people, to entertain himself, to protect himself, to disguise the truth, to highlight the truth, to make light of situations, the list goes on and on. He often makes it pretty clear when he’s lying, too, but that’s just another defense mechanism to keep you from looking too closely at the lies he doesn’t telegraph (or worse, the truths he wants you to dismiss as lies)

What I think would be an interesting pairing to this reading would be to count Shuichi’s lies instead. He doesn’t do it as much, and usually out of politeness, but the ones I noticed had me like 👀 Especially his lies by omission, hoo boy that boy(?) can deflect like a champ. He still hasn’t told anyone the full story of why he left or what he said to Kaede.

If you read this, thank you for walking with me on this little analysis! I’m super invested in this fic and love analyzing different aspects of it to use when writing/planning new chapters 😃

#the closest he gets to lying in ch17 is when he insists shuichi has an anti-horny forcefield (aka is ace)#which is almost a lie because it’s mostly projection #did i add an extra line of dialogue to chapter 6 so that i could write 6. 9?#perhaps.#come back with a warrant #there is more i could say about how shuichi Responds to kokichi’s lies #and how he has adapted to them since they’ve started living together #but that’s gonna come up in fic eventually so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#if this post seems extra you should see my notes app #danganronpa #drv3 #sepulchritudinous #the simple truth

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harlowhockeystick · 2 years

Text

Last Christmas, I Gave You My Heart - Matty Beniers

Matty wants to rekindle his relationship while he's back home, and it happens in a cafe

contains: cuss words, matty being so cute it'll make your teeth rot

word count: 1,986

12 fics of Christmas

tagging: @snidneycrabby @theweightofstardust @multistann @thecoldwind @puckbunnyforsway @drei-mrssvechii

Waking up to a dark room, Matty looked at the clock on the nightstand he had since the eighth grade. His grandmother bought it for him as a gift for the beginning of school, knowing he would need an alarm to wake up. Matty could sleep through the nation's largest storm, she was certain of it. She knew her grandson would need it if his life depended on it.

The time read six fifty two am. Too early to be awake on the holiday break, he thought to himself. But he was in such a habit of waking up early that there was no way Matty would be able to go back to sleep now. Sighing to himself, he took the covers off his body and immediately regretted it, a cold chill covering his body now.

He turned the closet light on and he pulled a hoodie off of a hanger and onto his body. His teeth chattered slightly, as he was so cold. Mornings in Massachusetts this time of year were frigid. Opening his sock drawer he picked out a pair white crew cut socks. Though for a moment, he saw a pair that brought a smile to his face. Christmas socks that had pugs on them and said “bah humpug”. He immediately thought of Y/N, the wonderful human who bought them for him so many years ago.

Sighing to himself he slid the white ones on his feet instead and slipped into his house shoes, making a mental note to himself not to forget them when he goes back to Ann Arbor. Matty was glad to be home for a few days. To have a break from hockey and school, to sleep in his own bed and wake up to the smell of his mothers breakfast.

Speaking of which, the first sound that he heard when he walked down the stairs was the coffee maker, starting to brew her morning drink. He came up behind her and gave her a hug, opening the fridge to get some juice. They made small talk for a while, Matty moving to the kitchen table to sit at and look through his phone.

“Oh shoot, Matty, can you run down to the store and get some eggs for me? I want to make some french toast.” She asked her son, pulling bacon, breakfast ham, and some pancake batter out of the fridge. “I would ask your sister but she’s helping me get ready for our ladies lunch.”

Matty leaned his head back with a long, deep sigh, “that’s today?” he groaned and closed his eyes. Standing up he started to walk towards the stairs. “I’ll get changed and go get your eggs.” walking upstairs, Matty changed into a pair of warm joggers and pulled a hoodie over his head, grabbing a beanie on his way out the door.

“Oh and if they have it, can you get some more bread? I need enough to make finger sandwiches.” Matty chuckled and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door.

Driving down to the same store that his family had been shopping at for years. Down the same street where he nearly broke his ankle roller blading, and the same street where he always went up and down on halloween and got a pillowcase full of candy.

He grabbed a handbasket and began the search for eggs and bread. The store was moderately busy, more people inside at eight in the morning than usual due to the holiday season. But there was still a loaf of bread, and there were still eggs in the fridge section. Heading to the shortest check out line that he could, he was now third in line. When he got close enough he snuck a candy bar in the basket.

When he looked up from the floor he saw the register clerk, Y/N. The person he hadn’t seen in over a year. The one who had his heart from the first time they kissed way back in the eighth grade. Sure, it was a dare at a birthday slumber party at matty’s house. But his life was forever changed by that moment. Even if it was, just a peck on the lips.

“Oh my God, is that matty?” Y/N said with a smile, taking the basket from his hand. Matty chuckled and moved to the other side of the counter, punching in his mom’s number for the rewards. “It’s been forever, how are you?”

“I’m good, yeah. I see you got your old job back, still hate it?” he teased, making her fake laugh. She scanned his items and ran his card. He continued to make small talk when he noticed that nobody else was in line behind him, wanting to soak up every moment that he had with her, since he didn’t know when he was going to see her again. He got a sudden burst of confidence running through his veins and he asked a question that only confident people ask.

“When do you, um, get off work? We could maybe get coffee or something. My mom is having her ladies lunch today so-”

“I would love that.” Y/N cuts him off and smiles up at him. He smiles even wider, a light tint pigmenting his cheeks.

“Alright well uh, just text me when you get off and i can meet you somewhere. Sounds good?” Matty walked around the counter so that Y/N could start to scan the next person's items. Walking out of the store with an extra pep in his step, he got in his car and drove home, probably a little faster than he should have.

Y/N: Hey hockey kid, wanna go to the coffee shop by your house?

Sure, right now?

Y/N: Yes right now lol

Okay, i’ll meet u there

Matty walked out the door, putting his beanie over his head and he started the walk to the coffee shop that Y/N suggested. He has many memories attached to this coffee shop too; he had his first date here. Not with Y/N, with another girl he went to school with. Lauren; she was nice, had beautiful green eyes, freckles along her cheeks, and she had a great sense of humor. Lauren was a cheerleader at the school, she got moderately straight A’s, and she lived in the nice part of town. A lot of people expected the two to be a couple. And maybe they would have dated, but there was just one problem. Lauren wasn’t Y/N.

Matty waited until he saw Y/N to order. They embraced in a warm bear hug, Y/N giving him a tight squeeze before letting go. “Hey, what do you want? On me.” they offered, getting their wallet out of a purse that Y/N had since it was given as a gift their mom didn’t want.

Matty tried to argue about it but it was no use. Y/N eventually ordered him a hot coffee and themself a hot chocolate. “You didn’t have to do that, honestly.” he said, walking over and sitting at a booth in the back corner.

The small talk starts and they get the basic things out of the way, the catching up and the story telling. Drinks come and Y/N tells the story, the horrible and menacing story, of how Matty spilled hot coffee on himself in the school cafeteria one morning by accident because he couldn’t stop staring at his then crush, vanessa.

“How was France?” Matty asked, drastically changing the subject.

“It was good, I really should have thought through the language barrier thing but I survived. Also Paris? Not a very lovely city. I mean the tower was nice, and the food was good. But it wasn't very…clean.” Y/N explained, drinking more of their hot chocolate and leaning back in the booth, propping their feet up on Matty’s side.

“Did you pick up any phrases? Tell me something in French.” he prompted, sipping on his coffee with a smirk on his lips.

Y/N sighed, thinking of something to say that would impress him. But anything Y/N would have said could impress him. They then cleared their throat once they thought of something, resting their head on their hands, looking into Matty’s coffee brown eyes across the table.

“Je ne supporte, pas d’etre separe de toi, je veux etre avec toi.”

Matty has a dumb little grin on his face, having no clue what Y/N just said in the foreign language. Y/N has a grin on their lips, a light blush on their cheeks. It was something that Y/N wanted to say for a long time, something that had been on their heart, mind, and soul for years. The time was never right for that confession, however.

“Ooh, sounds fancy. Can’t wait to look that up later and see what it means.” matty joked.

After Matty made them spill every detail about their trip to France, and their cups were empty it was nearly time for them to go back to their respective lives in the same city. He didn’t want to leave, though. He didn’t want to leave the booth, he didn’t want to leave the cafe, and he didn’t want to leave Y/N. Not again.

“Do you remember last christmas?” Matty asked, the words blurting out of his mouth before he could pull them back in. Y/N gave him a strange look on their face, nodding their head. “The song? Or last year?”

“Last year, I mean.” he clarified. Y/N wonders why he asked about it, because they remember last christmas very well. Y/N thinks about it often. They think about the kiss they shared on the front porch of his house, and the date they previously went on at the outdoor skate rink in boston. Y/N thinks about how close they were to moving things upstairs, just one more touch away from making that happen.

“Why haven’t we gotten together yet?” Y/N finally asked, being the first one to break the ice. Leaning against the booth and taking a deep sigh, thinking about what his answer might be; or if he even had one. Making eye contact again his look was soft, but he looked like a deer in headlights. Scared, vulnerable, frigid. “I mean, it’s not like we hadn’t been in love with each other since the eighth grade.”

Y/N remembers.

“I know that, with college and everything we couldn’t exactly…be together now, but I at least expected we dated for a while before that.” Y/N continued, drawing shapes and traces on the table in front of them, watching his body movements and how he makes a light chuckle in agreement.

A few moments of silence go by before someone speaks, “maybe…we can still be together?” Matty suggested, playing with his fingers and moving his gaze from Y/N, to the table, then back to Y/N. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that's okay. I was just-”

“Matty, I've wanted that since middle school.” Y/N laughed at his shyness, his cheeks even more tinted now than they were a little while ago. He laughed nervously and stared at the table. Y/N put their hand on his, turning it so that they could interlock fingers.

“So, we’re together now?” Matty clarifies, his eyes wider than his smile, if that were even possible at this point. Y/N leans across the table and grabs his chin softly, connecting their lips with his in a light, soft kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” pulling away slowly and sitting back in the booth, the look on Matty’s face is one that Y/N wants to hang up in a museum.

“Yeah, this is already much better than last christmas.”

.・。♡.・゜✭・.・✫・゜✭・。. ♡・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜♡・。.✫

translation: i can't stand to be separated from you, i want to be with you

- thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed. feedback and comments are very much welcome!

xo, j

#j's ficmas #j's writing #matty beniers #matty beniers imagine #matty beniers x reader #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #umich hockey

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junova · 3 years

Text

↬ 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

abstract — steve professes his love for you then disappears for three months. what happens when he returns?

pairing — steve rogers x fem!reader

wc — 2.7k

warnings — 18+ DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR, heavy smut, daddy kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), cockwarming if u squint, cussing, angst, fluff.

[m blabs] — howdy howdy! this is for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes , and @amythedvdhoarder hoelentine’s fic swap! sorry this is a day late pls dont come for me and i did not proof read this so i apologize for future readers suffering thank u

my giftee was one of the insanely talented writers on this app — @donutloverxo ! hope you like it berry! <3

It had been months since you’d seen him. An undercover mission taking longer than originally thought left you feeling lonelier to your own surprise. You blamed it how the two of you left things unresolved. Out in the open, all of his feelings laid out on a silver platter for you to take.

All of it. Steve, his love, the moment of words you’d dreamed of him saying — it was too real. Too unimaginable to believe. He always is.

You’d never really had someone you who went out of their way everyday to make you feel loved and Steve did. Truly, you should have seen it sooner. The consistency of his adoration and loyalty blew the limits of platonic friendship. Not until, he was nearly crying, choked up by his own words did you realize just how much it ran deep within him.

The words he spoke to you were still echoing in the forefront of your mind, not letting you breath for a moment. Were you really in love with him just as much as he was with you? It was hard to believe just because Steve was so far out of reach. Especially for you.

Watching his beautiful shade of cerulean, bright and beaming with hope, wanting nothing more than to for you to see him. Leaving him the impression that you didn’t cut the two of you deep. Your answer was hesitant, full of caution. Exactly the opposite for what he was yearning for.

Now, just like you had done for the past couple of weeks, you found yourself waiting in the tower for him. You lingered around no matter how many times Tony told you they would let you know when he was home safely. It didn’t stop you from coming, though.

Even if you knew it would be even longer until you would get to finish the conversation with him, being her helped you feel more at ease. Plus, no one’s besides Tony had the guts to try and make you leave.

Natasha and Sam were the only ones who didn’t really question it. Ever since you met Steve, you were here so often but they just so happened to be walking down the hall when he confessed exactly how wide his affection ran for you.

As they watched you linger in the tower, even if the outcome had been different than Steve wanted or expected, Sam and Nat were starting to see just how much you cared for him.

Natasha was the one to catch you silently sleeping in one of his sweatshirts cuddled up into his sheets. Thankfully, still smelling like him just enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Then, Sam caught you peeking at the framed picture of the two of you sitting on his desk, the only one which did. Admiring the way you let your fingers drift around the wooden frame, endearingly. Internally, continuing to fight this inner battle within you.

“If it makes it any easier, I’m sure he misses you just as much.” You peaked up at the tone of Wilson’s voice, making his presence known. He walked over to you, watching as you continued to look at the photo.

Your smile wide at your college graduation, ball and gown, wearing a dress you knew Steve liked with his arms wrapped around your waist in a truly candid moment, one you’d forgotten about. The picture more than likely buried so deep within your phone with the countless others you had taken of and with him.

“I wish it did, but it doesn't really. Just wish I knew he was okay. I worry a bit too much, I think.” You spoke softly, halfway speaking to Sam but you mostly just spoke to yourself. “I never knew he kept this photo of us here.” Your touch finally disconnects from the sturdy frame.

“He really thinks too sweetly of me.” Standing in his office, surrounded by all of his belongings made it so much harder for you to cut ties like you had originally wanted to do. “Really? Couldn’t tell by how he talks about you constantly.”

“Oh my god, Sam.” You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your tummy, but anytime Steve was mentioned it seemed to be an effect he only seemed to pull from you. “What? C’mon, all of us know he was planning on telling you how he felt before Bucky and him left.”

Well, it seemed the embarrassment only seemed to continue.

“All of you, even Tony?” You asked him, even if you knew the answer. You just wanted the attention off you. “Especially Tony. Why do you think he’s been more of a smartass lately?” It made sense, but it did nothing to calm the nerves threatening to boil over.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time believing everyone knew how he felt, but me. I just never thought he would ever feel this way again, about anyone, after Peggy. She was the love of his life and it’s not something I couldn’t possibly measure up to.” You stopped looking at the picture, feeling sick to your stomach.

“With all of what he’s told me, I’ll always feel second best to her because I know just as everyone else if he could still have her he would.” You saw the sketch one time, when he left it open on the counter. It wasn’t really like you to snoop, but you couldn’t help it one day and you did.

Page after page, it was all of Peggy. Any feelings you were harboring for him at the time were thrown to the wind. Because then, you knew. Now matter how important you were to him now, you would always be in the shadow of his first love. The one that got away from him.

“What makes you think that?” Tears were starting to surface and you couldn’t handle it, the worst of your insecurities creeping in.

“Just ask to look at his compass next time you see him.” But you knew what was there. You didn’t need yet another painful reminder of it. “Why would I torture myself like that, Sam?”

“Trust me. You may be surprised.” You highly doubt you would be, so why even try?

The party was in full swing by the tie you arrived. The tower was full with more people than usual as you stepped in, watching as everyone enjoyed themselves. You were hesitant to even come to Natasha’s celebration at all.

You hadn’t been here since your conversation with Sam. Just a little too worried Steve might catch you lingering in his home and sleeping in his clothes. It was something the both of you did, but now with his feelings laying out in the open it seems so much more intimate than before.

Just as you were about to head towards the bar area, where everyone was, you left a large find your own grabbing your attention.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His velvety, smooth voice makes you melt just like it always does. It didn’t register for a second, just who you were talking to and when you did he was in for it.

“Stevie!” You leaped into his arms, too shocked to mask your sheer excitement as your legs wrapped around his slim waist, letting yourself be caught by him.

“I missed you so much, honey.” His words clenching at your heart at the endearing nickname. You felt him sigh into you, one of relief.

“I missed you, too.” You mumbled while you were still clinging onto him like your life depended on it.

“As much as I want to catch up, I feel like we should talk about what happened before I left.” Already, your heart dropped into your chest.

“Stevie, it can’t wait. Don’t worry about it. Okay?” You tried to rub it off because even after all this time you still weren’t certain of the weight in his words.

You let yourself down, off of him, and tried to lead him in the direction of the party but he didn’t budge.

“Please, work with me here. I’m sure they all miss you and want to see you.” Now, you were just stalling and Steve could see it as clear as day.

“Sweetheart, please just stop for a minute.” He felt your hand fall as you crossed your arms over your chest passively.

“Please, Steve.” You pleaded with him and for a moment you just thought he might go with you until those dating words fell from his plump lips.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Those words effectively shut you up as Steve stepped closer to you.

“I think about if you love me as much as I’ve fallen in love with you.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to move as he edged closer to you.

“Lately, I’ve been thinking about how much I want to kiss those pouty lips of yours. How much I wanna claim you in every single way.” He was so close to you now, questioning how you were still breathing.

“Just tell me you don’t want this and I’ll go down to that party right now and pretend like this never happened.” When you were silent, looking anywhere but him, he got the hint.

You watched as he walked in the navy clad plants with a button up clinging to his narrow waist.

“Wait!” Even with your heels, you ran to him while he waited for you to catch up.

“Do you still carry your compass on you?” You questioned him with tears in your eyes he hadn’t noticed until now.

And it crushed him.

“Of course I do. Wait...Is this just another crack at how old I really am?” Maybe if you weren’t sure he had just crushed your heart with a single response you might’ve laughed.

“I know this is going to sound weird but can I see it?” Watching him reach for it in his right pocket, you noticed the crimson blush reaching his cheeks.

“I just-, how is this is going to change anything?” Watching him as he awkwardly fidgeted with the object in hand.

“I don’t think it will, but I just need to see it.” He handed it over and you held it for a moment before opening it and nothing could have prepared you for it.

Well, possibly Sam’s words if he had elaborated more.

“I-I know it’s kind of weird. I’m sorry I should have asked when I took that photo but you just looked so beautiful like always and I couldn’t help it. I can take it out if it creeps you out too much.” His words trailed off on a mumbling mess as he was afraid he scared you off.

Even more than before.

“I thought you said Peggy’s photo was in it. Wasn’t it?” This time you were the one getting closer as you pushed back the wet hair away from his face, probably from the shower he’d taken not long after he came back.

“She was, but then I fell in love with you.” He leaned into your touch as both of your hands cradled his face.

“You’re my person. My soulmate. My home. I used to be so angry for so long because I had lost everything I ever loved, but it was all just leading me here. Right in this moment with you.”

You could’ve died happy right then, because the man of your dreams was confessing just on how much he loved you, again.

“Steven Grant Rogers?” You watched as his eyebrows furrowed at the mention of his full name. “Don’t you ever stop loving me. Ever.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He needed nothing more until he was locking his lips with your own. Commanding dominance from the start, causing you to whimper in response.

His skillful tongue sliding into your mouth, causing you to moan even more when he picked you up carrying you into his bedroom.

Before you even realized it, he was recklessly threw you on his bed as he stripped himself down to his boxers. His washboard abs and bulging muscles on full display.

In a flash, he was right back on you worshipping your body, turning you into a moaning mess.

Hiking up your red silky dress until it rested on your hips, your pretty pussy glistening already and he had barely touched you.

Without warning, he slipped two fingers into your warm heat watching as your head flew back. “Oh fuck, daddy.”

The words went straight to his cock as he pumped his finger in and out of you, leaving you begging for me.

“Oh, you like when Daddy’s fucking you with his fingers?” You nodded, unable for anything but moaning his name while he added another finger in you. You're hips moving uncontrollably as he was eye level with you.

Using his free hand, he gripped your jaw forcing you to look at him. “I want you to look at me when you come, princess.” With one swift moment, his thumb rubbed over your clit and you lost it.

Hearing you cry out beneath him as he pushed you over, screaming out his name as he continued to fuck your through the high.

“I need to milk your cock, Daddy. I need you to fill me up with your fucking cum.” He threw his boxers to the wind as he let you maneuver yourself on top.

“C’mon, princess. Let me see you bounce on my cock. Show me how bad you need my cum.” You surely didn’t need to be told twice.

Grabbing his hard cock by the tip, before rubbing over the tip and a few times before letting yourself to sink down until you bottomed out.

“You’re so fucking big. Shit.” But Steve didn’t let you take a breather for a moment until he was fucking up into you. Letting you know who was in complete control.

Until your hands found his hips and you used all your strength to pull almost all the way off of him before sinking roughly on his cock.

“Shit, princess.” As you whimpered you pushed yourself to bounce on his cock, no matter how much pain came with pleasure.

“Look at those tits, princess. You’re so fucking hot fucking yourself on Daddy’s cock. Such a good girl.” But then he flipped over pulling himself out of you before manhandling you on all fours.

Smoothing a hand over your spine, “You’re being such a good girl for Daddy. Let me take care of you.” Wrapping his hand around his thick, cock before finding your slick lower lips.

Rubbing the tip of cock along your folds, watching your body tremble before him. “Daddy, please.” You whined like a spoiled brat, begging for attention.

He’d break you of that later.

But now? He cock was practically dying for a release.

He slowly pushed himself into you, watching as your ass inches towards him more. Then, he was slamming himself into you so roughly you couldn’t fucking breathe.

Grabbing you by the hips, he fucked into you like his life depended on it. Admiring you as you took everything you gave him. The second climax hits you more quickly than you thought.

Steve grabs wraps his arm around you, pulling you up with his cock still thrusting up inside you — chasing his own high.

“I’m going to need you to cum with me, princess.” As he fucked into, your chest against his own and as you heard the slapping of his balls hitting your ass.

“Daddy, I can’t. It’s too much.” You shook your head, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Milk me, Sweetheart. I’m dying to fill you up baby. Let me cum in this tight pussy.” His fingers finding your clit, sending you over the edge.

“Yes. Jesus Christ. Don’t fucking stop.” He continued to fuck you senseless as you came.

“Shit, baby girl. I’m cumming.” Slamming himself hard than before as continued to fuck you into oblivion, his seed filling you up until you the both of you collapsed falling into his soft sheets.

The two of you just stayed there for a while with his cock buried deep beneath you. Soon, enough he pulled out leaving you empty.

He jumped out of bed before comping with a wet rag to clean you up, before pulling you into his chest.

“Okay, I think I might have a Daddy kink.” Making Steve laugh, slightly.

“Yeah, maybe just a little bit sweetheart, not that I’m complaining.”

#omfg this is so ROUGH #but i havent written in like 2 months #so at least we did it!#heck yeah :')#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #stever rogers smut #steve rogers fan fiction #mcu fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #m.writes #happyhoelentinesday2021

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mggpleasedontlookhere · 3 years

Text

checkmate

summary: where y/n and spencer live in a world of soulmates; but how magical can it really be when the last words of your lover are the only indication of their existence.

word count: 7,054 reading time aprox: 26 mins

warnings: character death, angst

a/n: this is my comeback fic, I hope you like it. I made sure to make it extra angsty to compensate for my disappearance :) also this fic can be read by anyone!

masterlist

Chess is a meticulous endeavor, not only in its cold and calculated nature, but also in the player’s ability to detect insecurity flash across their opponents' eyes, the unconscious idiosyncrasies that foretell future moves, and the slow descent into hopelessness that disintegrates the former’s conviction. Most will point out the cruelty of the game, how callous it must be knowing your end eight moves before it happens. However, others will oppose this notion as it is the game; one must lose to win.

It’s all a matter of who plays their pieces right.

Before that pivotal moment, players can only maneuver through a black and white arena. Fingertips would drum in anticipation while the other would hover over their pieces, striding across the board with purpose. Regardless of the disparity between the players’ experience or skill, there is always one factor, unmoved by player attributes, that is not a disadvantage nor luxury for either party: time.

Even in the checkered plane, nothing will matter. The players will cease to move, forced to end the game by the lack of time. This mechanism in nature acts as a failsafe if either individual is unable to conclude the game. In other words, there are only two outcomes: winning the game by will or letting time take that will away from you.

However, what is not noticed is the growing ache in the winner’s chest, disappointment beginning to fester inside of them because of their loss in deciding. In that split realization, the winner is placed on an equal plane as the loser, wondering if they ever really won at all.

This middle plane is beautiful and tragic simultaneously—maybe the beauty is in the tragedy. But as my palm leaves a bloodied handprint pressed against Spencer’s chest, all I can see is the world around me turning red.

Please be okay, please be okay for me

My mouth would silently mutter in tandem with his desperate and reaching touches, a mantra I convinced myself could surpass time, all while knowing my will was seized from me the moment Spencer uttered the words imprinted at my hip.

October 27th

2 days before

Water vapor collected around the coffee mug pressed to my lips. Although it’s ironic to call it a ‘coffee’ mug considering it was filled to the brim with scalding tea. The tips of my fingers and the skin of my palms tingled at the heat given off. My thoughts drifted to the explanation of the first law of thermodynamics that Spencer had kindly explained during the walk home from the night before.

An unconscious smile brushed over my lips briefly, reminiscing the blissful moments of the team gathered around a bar table after finishing up a briefing about a local case. A warm cloud of content passed through my chest while a lightness traveled from the bottoms of my feet to the summit of my forehead. The herbal tea traveling down my esophagus countered the cold nipping of the autumn air, bringing a welcome equilibrium to my wellbeing.

I shrugged the knitted blanket over my shoulders further, staring into the calming view that the apartment window provided. Across from the building was a small, abandoned park. Most of the neighbors had steered clear of the area as it didn’t meet anyone’s aesthetic standards—well, except for mine.

Half of the trees have lost their leaves, counting down the days to winter. The park benches were covered with tangled vines, even some lacking required wood boards. In summary, the place was an overgrown jungle that no one was willing to inhabit. In result, the once communal area was condemned by the normal folk for being ‘too dead.’ However, I would oppose those who claim the lack of life in the park considering life is not only just living, but it is to invite death.

In my observation of the park, a soft reflection suddenly appeared beside the yellow oak trees. In my peripheral, I can see my roommate creeping up behind me with his limbs moving catlike. I bit my bottom lip to conceal the amused huff threatening to escape me, instead settling to blowing over the steam rising from my cup.

Just before I saw his head bobble over my shoulder, arms stretched out above me, I whipped around his lanky figure and ducked under his arm. “You know for an agent; I expected a better performance.” An inaudible yelp interrupted the fit of giggles I was in as some of the tea spilled onto my blanket. “Now look what you’ve done! Do you know how hard it is to get dark liquids off cotton?”

“Just some hydrogen peroxide will do the trick,” Spencer shrugged, insisting to pull off the semi-damp blanket off my shoulders. “Plus, you messed up my bit!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot I was living with a five-year-old,” I teased, nudging him.

Spencer craned his neck to the side, letting the sore tendons and muscles stretch out from just waking up. All without forgetting to let out an obnoxious yawn in addition to his exaggeratedly extended arms. “I’ll have you know that this five-year-old has three PhDs and three bachelors,” he boasted.

“...and daddy issues.”

Before I can find a way to defend myself, the same blanket that brought me solace previously was transformed into an unmerciful whip. Spencer chased me around the couch until I slipped and toppled over the cushions, landing on the throw pillows. I buried my head into the leather arm, shutting my eyes, while I replicated the nature of Spencer’s antics by emitting ridiculous snores.

“You can’t touch me while I’m sleeping,” I murmured, feigning my slow lull to slumber. “It’s socially unacceptable.” During my spiel, Spencer had playfully grabbed my ankles and dragged me to a sitting position.

“SPENCER!” I gasped, clutching one of the pillows in hand and smacking him over the head with it. “You do not handle people like that! No wonder why you also have momm-”

Spencer’s palm gently nudged me back onto the couch mid-sentence, leaving my frame to hit the cushions with a loud thud. A boom of laughter filled the empty space of my chest, my breath thinning as dopamine jumped from my brain’s synapses. An enchanted smile caressed the corners of my mouth mirroring the one Spencer was sporting.

In these insignificant interactions, I would think back to the times where our comfortability was limited and reveled on how much our friendship grew over the years. There was a sense of solace that overwhelmed me knowing that introducing—and working on his—humor brought an auspicious light to the darkness that often clouded his mind.

My lungs deflated with a hefty exhale, my arm slinging across my eyes in relaxation. Clamored feet and the rug shifting against the wood floor caught my attention. Freeing my line of vision, I was met with a raggedy-haired genius with barely a foot between us. I reached out to comb through his locks, the webbing of my hands catching the tangled curls. “You need to shower greasehead.”

“Actually, the buildup of sebum and laloin in the gland of the hair follicles—coined as the sebaceous gland—offers moisture and protection, given that it is regulated upon its natural equilibrium.” Spencer leaned into the soft touch of my fingers, like how a kitten purrs against their owner’s affection.

“Well, I don’t know about you almost-birthday-boy, but I don’t think you want to go into the next chapter of your life smelling like you just changed out of your first diaper.” I pushed myself up the couch, gesturing Spencer to the hallway bathroom. “This is the big 31!”

“Y/N, we had a party for my 30th. I think I’m good to last for the decade,” he huffed, walking towards his bedroom to grab a change of clothes.

“That’s not the spirit, Dr. Reid!” I yelled across the room. “I swear Spence, you’re the only person who’d turn down a party... And, you even turned down Rossi’s invitation to go all out in his backyard.”

“Another year to celebrate the ever-closing gap between my time on earth and my imminent demise—oh, and how can I forget celebrating it in an open space full of ticks and pollen,” Spencer sarcastically jested, his voice bouncing off the thin white walls.

“At least you’d know your soulmate, right? Then I wouldn’t be the only one to deal with your ‘Debby Downer’ ass,” I added on, rolling my eyes at his usual pessimistic rulings.

“I would prefer nihilistic, but if that vernacular serves you then to each their own.”

“Hey, maybe after you die, I and your soulmate can mourn over you—bond and all that—and then I can steal them away,” I teased.

I looked to the lightning bolts etched into the crevices of my thighs, my fingertips tracing each design until it fell onto the carved words at my hip. In a way, the stretch marks made beautiful vines attached to the faded letters, covering the obvious red scratch marks that had resurfaced from my bad habits.

I kissed my fingertips before planting them back onto the markings, chuckling to myself of the intimate gesture. Unconsciously, I began to rub at the tattooed words once again, hating how their protrusion made my skin crawl.

“I mean I’m dead, what can I really do?” Spencer called out, stopping in his tracks when he reached the bathroom door. He faced me as he spoke, going on about his birthday celebration tomorrow—half of his speech unheard to me—until he requested my immediate attention. “You have to stop picking at the words, Y/N. You’re going to end up hurting yourself.”

“I know, I know,” I sighed, letting my dominant hand fall to my side. A pout fell on my lips at the loss of the small satisfaction scratching granted me. “But the words are just so uncomfortable sometimes. I mean you got lucky with the whole soulmate placement.”

Spencer brought his free hand to his chest, thumb tracing over the small words typed on the skin. “Yeah, I guess I did get lucky huh.” A soft smile grazed over his lips while his eyes were still trained on the unknowing figure resting against the couch.

“What does your marking read aga-”

“Spence, what’s it say on your che-”

I groaned in playful disbelief at the coincidental timing. “You know at this point I’m starting to think we’re telepathic, Spencer.”

“That’s actually what my tattoo is,” he laughed. “It’s my name.”

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, remembering the first time we brought it up in the early days of meeting one another. “Must’ve saved a lot of name tags in elementary school” I teased.

Spencer shook his head, shuffling into the bathroom with a lightness in his steps. With the closing of the door, my gaze fell onto the marking once again.

Regardless of the mechanics of soulmates, I was never worried about the possibility of not meeting them. I was already at my happiest knowing shared moments like these were good enough. However, unbeknownst to my ideal wishes, an irking desire still lingered in the back of my head while fingers hovered over the imperfect skin.

October 28th

1 day before

“Kid, you can’t sit there and tell me that finding your soulmate can be ‘scientifically extrapolated.’ That’s not the point,” Morgan amusingly shook his head at Spencer, ruffling the top of his head as he brushed past him.

“Okay,” Spencer tutted, “tell me. What ‘is’ the point then?”

“Well, all I’m saying is that finding your soulmate—if you have one—is supposed to come supernaturally.”

“Morgan, did you just try to win over boy genius here by talking about the supernatural?” With a tilted smirk, I nursed the half-filled flute between my fingertips. My gaze flickered over to a pleased brainiac sharing the same mischievous glint found in my eyes. I let my head fall back against the couch cushions, my eyes fluttering close to the sound of grown children bickering.

“Alright,” Morgan raised his hands up in defense. “All I was pointing out was that things like these can’t be solved by numbers and science.”

“The same can be said about Newtonian physics, but look where we a-”

Morgan flung a ball of crinkled wrapping paper Spencer’s way, aiming for his head. Spencer attempted to dodge the projectile—emphasis on attempted—only to have it hit him square in the face.

“So much for those Newtonian physics, huh?” I teased while getting up to open another bottle of champagne. Spencer slouched in his chair, the paper cone hat on his head shifting to the side. A grimace replaced the smirk he initially wore, muttering about how he was going to get Morgan back.

“Y/N! Bring that bottle over here when you’re done.” Morgan called out as I walked into the kitchen, pausing the ongoing discussion of the case we planned to tackle. “Also, bring another juice box for Reid here!”

A chorus of laughter followed my ears which each step, a grin finding the corners of my lips. I rose to the tips of my toes to reach for the unopened bottle in the alcohol cabinet. I made my way to the freezer, taking out the bucket of ice I stored away hours ago. When closing the appliance door, my eyes landed on a picture magnetized to the surface.

It was a physical reminder of the time that Spencer convinced me to dress up as Amy Pond, the eleventh doctor’s sidekick, for comic con. He too was dressed up in the doctor’s attire: a brown corduroy suit, a bowtie, and a sonic screwdriver. We both had silly grins planted on our faces, it seemed like nothing could tear down the joyous bubble we were in. Upon reflecting on the memory, the kitchen door swung open revealing a merry Spencer.

“Hey, I was supposed to be getting you that juice box,” I joked.

Spencer shook his head, pushing past me to get to the cupboard. “Very funny,” he droned, sarcasm dripping off his words. I leaned against the counter, setting the bucket of ice to the side. I analyzed his movements, noticing how often he fidgeted with his fingers or how his legs would clumsily turn inward at times.

“You know,” he paused, turning around to face me, “In some countries ruled by military dictatorship, staring could be deemed as a call for execution.”

I crossed my arms, challenging him. “Well last time I checked; we aren’t in any of those countries. Is that right, Dr. Reid?”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled. “Did you need anything?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Well, by the way you were checking me out, I would think you needed something.” He sauntered over to the opposite counter across the kitchen, hoisting himself up on the granite. I watched as the casual smirk fell off his face after failing his initial attempt to sit. The second attempt proved to be better, although that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes at his impotence.

“You know,” I repeated his words, grabbing the champagne and ice bucket as I began to stroll out of the room. “I’m really starting to think you have a better chance at ‘extrapolating’ your soulmate rather than finding them.”

“Wait!”

I whipped around to face him with furrowed eyebrows. I nodded for him to continue, watching as a sly expression reappeared on his face. “You forgot my juice.”

I sighed, setting the items back down on the counter before reaching for the fridge. “You are a grown man, Spence,” I gesticulated at the boy. I grabbed Spencer’s favorite sparkling water and left it aside. “You couldn’t get your own?” I raised my eyebrows at him, ducking out of the refrigerator door.

He crossed his legs, still propped up on the counter. “Well, you did call me a five-year-old and it is my birthday,” he argued, shrugging his shoulders tauntingly.

“I said that the other day, and considering it’s your birthday, that would mean you’d be old enough to conduct yourself,” I countered.

“Actually, it’s grammatically inappropriate to say, ‘the other day’ when the event in question occurred yesterday,” he began to ramble. With an unimpressed nod, I began to slowly back away from the scene until I was abruptly stopped once again.

“Wait!”

“What!”

“You forgot to put it in a cup,” he meekly suggested, his face evident of mischief.

“You’re clearly enjoying this aren’t you?” I groaned, shuffling towards where he was. “I’ll give you something to enjoy...” I whispered to myself.

With a plan set in motion, I sauntered over to where Spencer sat. Once I was in front of him, I made sure to give no indication that I was moving beside him. Instead, I leaned forward, letting our chests press together as I reached up for a mug. I would be lying if I denied the faint blush warming up the apples of my cheeks or the tightness of my throat from this proximity. In a nervous hash, I could’ve sworn hearing Spencer’s breath hitch as my chin brushed against his neck.

Feigning a confident disposition, I dropped back to the heels of my feet, finding myself to be inches away from the enamored and naive genius. “You need this?” I murmured, trying to maintain a collected tone of voice. However, Spencer did make it difficult with the intensity of his penetrating gaze or the way his breath fanned over my sensitive skin.

For a lasting moment, I began to dissect the small specks of hazel hues in his eyes and how a dark pool of brown surrounded his irises. The tip of his nose was flushed in crimson and his mouth hung in what seemed like anticipation and hesitation battling it out. “Uh, yeah... thank you.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, linking his fingers with mine to take the mug.

Without breaking eye contact, he set the mug aside and away from view. I opened my mouth to say something, but I soon discovered a dessert residing in the back of my throat. Slowly my composure unraveled, leaving me and Spencer in a purgatory of uncertainty and elation. I heard my heart thump against the walls of my ribcage as my eyes traveled to the parting of his lips, his tongue ever so often swiping against the skin.

I shook my head out of the trance we were in, popping the hypnotic bubble forming around us. With a trepidatious smile, I gestured to the living room, suggesting going back out there. “Do you want to...” I tied my hands behind my back, stepping away from him slowly. He nodded in response; his mouth tightly pressed into an awkward line.

With less than obvious movements, we both tiptoed our way back to the liveliness of the other room, soon forgetting about the juice and cup all together.

“Bye guys, thank you for coming! See you tomorrow.” I politely bid everyone a farewell, sending them safe wishes home as they excited through the front door. “Pen, are you coming with us tomorrow?” I received a tipsy nod and a few stumbling feet, but nonetheless confirmation for the case. Spencer was to the left of me doing the same, enduring some last-minute birthday teasing from Morgan before he made his exit.

With the slow creaking of the door, I leaned against the wood, letting my legs slowly slip down the floor until I was sitting. I tilted my head up, staring at an exhausted Spencer before making grabby hands at him. He snorted at the childlike request, aggressively pulling at my wrists until I landed into his chest.

“Alright birthday boy, just because you’re older doesn't mean you can get all strong on me,” I warned, nuzzling my heavy head onto his shoulder. A pleasant silence surrounded us, our bodies maintaining an equal balance as we leaned onto each other. On another note, it reminded me of Newton’s principle of force that Spencer explained to me a few months back. How Newton’s cradle, a simple office trinket, exemplified conservation of momentum and energy. In this fragment of space, it felt like that with Spencer—it always felt like that: a comfortable momentum.

“Hey Spence?”

The quiet continued to spread throughout the atmosphere.

“Spencer?” I pressed my chin against his chest, feeling his arms find their way to my lower back. He hummed in response, his eyelids resting at a closed position. “I’m sorry about that thing in the kitchen... I was just messing around.”

He took a while to react before sighing and pressing a tired kiss to the side of my head; with that, I knew things were okay. “Oh! I didn’t give you your present yet.”

I melted away from his arms, scurrying off to the couch. In an exaggerated reveal, I pulled a small parcel from beneath the cushions, glee filling my eyes as I watched the bow on top spring out. I extended my arms towards Spencer, eager to have him open it.

He walked tentatively towards me, taking purposefully leisurely strides. At one point he began to act like he was in a slow-motion sequence, causing me to threaten the integrity of his present. With raised hands, he sat next to me on the couch and gently pried the gift from my hands. “What did you get me this time? Let me guess. From the size and shape of his package here,” he turned the box around in his hands, shaking it up, “and the sound to force ratio-”

“Just open the damn thing, Spence.”

He smiled at my usual impatience, letting his fingers glide against the edge of the parcel. Finally, with gentle hands, he picked apart the wrapping paper, careful not to rip the heart sticker that held the presentation together. He gathered the bow in his palm, and gently pressed the sticky side of the accessory to my cheek.

I cringed at the feeling, but that soon dissipated hearing the mollified chuckle escape Spencer’s mouth. With a determined huff, Spencer pulled the last pieces of wrapping paper from the box and was left with a frayed book in his palm.

“The Parliment of Foweles...” he whispered; an unreadable expression crossed his features.

I curled into my own body, anticipating some form of reaction. “I... I remember you told me the first time we really sat down and got to know each other that your mom used to read that to you when you were younger.” I picked at the stitches on the couch, a lump forming in my esophagus as my tongue swelled. “It’s first edition...” I smiled, insecurity beginning to conquer my excitement from before.

“Sorry, if you don’t like it... I was just-”

A pair of arms pulled me into a secure embrace while a tender hand came around to cup the back of my head. An inaudible expression of gratitude was lost in between babbles of endearment and soft caresses. Spencer pulled away with pools of adoration, he clutched the book in hand as he pulled me under his arm. He ran his thumb along the deckles that adorned the sides of the pages, his palm tenderly feeling the roughness of the old woven spine.

To open the book, he singled out a random page and lightly flicked a few pages to the side before I halted his movements completely. “Wait!” I requested. “I want you to read it after the case so we can do it together,” I sheepishly tucked a hair behind his ear, hiding the careful blush on my cheeks. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah...that’s fine with me,” he breathed, his eyes locked onto the soft curves of my face. I pulled my hand away, tugging my sleeve further down my arm. “Oh! That reminds me.” Spencer places the book behind him and headed over the coat rack next to the front door. Sliding his hands through various pockets, he finally pulled a small box from one of the compartments.

He tentatively approached me, turning the object in hand. “I know it’s my birthday, but... I wanted to do something because you’ve made everything better in these past years,” he confessed, fidgeting as he came closer. “Being with my mother always felt like home, and I just... you became that for me, so thank you.”

My fingers reached over to his open palm, approaching the velvet box as if it was fragile. I glazed over its general shape, turning it a few times between my hands. “Spencer...I don’t even know what to say.”

“Well, you can start by opening it,” he smiled.

I shook my head, gently prying the box open. Inside laid a beautiful heart-shaped necklace with words etched into the metal. Once I read the words, a heavy breath escaped my lungs, and my shoulders lost all tension. “Spencer...”

“I thought that it would be easier to have the words of your soulmate above your heart rather than you tracing over your hip,” he professed. “I also know that even if you deny not having any connection to this soulmate thing, it often brings you comfort when needed.”

My attention went to him the second he uttered those words. “How did you know,” I mumbled with an enamored chuckle.

“Well, whenever we’re in the field, I could tell the times you get nervous or need reassurance by the way you subtly touch your hip.”

“I thought staring was punishable by death,” I joked, referring to his argument earlier today.

He brushed it off with a wide smile, combing his hands through his hair. “I know we have a hefty case tomorrow based on what Penelope showed us last briefing, so I hoped that this would make you feel better,” he confessed, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back into the arm of the couch.

“Thank you, Spencer...really,” I wrapped my arms above my head, trying to attach the unlocked chain around my neck. “Can you...?”

With gracious hands, he lifted the chain from my fingertips and wrapped it around my neck. The skin of his fingers would occasionally brush the back of my neck, sending euphoric chills down my spine. I felt myself squirm under his touch slightly, although it wasn’t enough to be obvious. Lifting my hair to the side with his wrist, he clasped the necklace together, letting the cold metal kiss the skin.

I turned around, appreciating the trinket in my hands. I shook my head in disbelief, watching as some of the moonlight that seeped through the window reflected off the metal. “Thank you, again, Spencer.” I nodded, bringing him into a meaningful embrace. My head rested in the crook of his neck, an aroma of pine, vanilla, and old books surrounding us. “This really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever possessed.”

He scoffed, gently wrapping his hands around the small of my back. “Everything pales in comparison to you.”

October 29th

...

I twirled the metal heart in between my fingers as Hotch’s words failed to reach my ears. I would look up occasionally to see the pictures, but we’ve been dealing with an unsub who showed no mercy to anything morally reprehensible. I sighed, swinging my feet under me as I pretended to be enveloped by the case file in my other hand.

“Since we’re dealing with a L.D.S.K-”

“A long-distance serial killer,” Emily intercepted, nodding towards the team.

“We’ll have SWAT patrol the surrounding rooftops. Emily and I will stay with the defense team here.” Hotch pointed to the house of the unsub’s target. “Morgan, Y/N, and Reid will go through the floors of the apartment building with the strike team—witnesses stated that he was located on the 5th floor, but we have to be ready for anything.”

I looked over to Morgan with a determined expression. His face hardened at the words and his lips was pressed into a tight line. In my peripheral, I could see the way his veins would constrict against the skin as he clenched his fists.

This case hit him particularly hard considering we couldn’t save the unsub’s last victim. It was a 4-year-old little girl, and we were misinformed about her possible location. By the time we got to her, she was faced down into a park well with a single bullet hole above her heart. I watched the slow diffusion of her blood, and how the water turned to a murky black. I couldn’t imagine Morgan’s guilt considering he was so sure of himself when reaching a breakthrough with the unsub’s whereabouts. The parents of the child would soon blame Morgan for his ignorance, spewing derogatory slurs in their distress.

“We’ll get him Hotch,” Morgan assured, “This time, we’ll get him.”

Spencer noticed the certitude in his voice, sharing a look with me to give extra attention to Morgan out in the field. I smiled at him, warmed at the concern that the genius had over his friend.

“I’ll be working with local PD to hold a press conference to keep the public on the lookout,” JJ expressed, crossing her arms.

“Since...last time, we figured that unsub finds enjoyment in toying with us or singling us out. So, keep each other in check and make sure to report back in your earpieces every five minutes.” Hotch himself seemed perturbed by the unsub’s earlier actions considering he had his own toddler to deal with. “Penelope has sent the coordinates to everyone. Remember the profile, and don’t leave yourselves vulnerable. We’re dealing with an elusive unsub that won’t stop at nothing to satisfy himself,” Hotch spoke with a quiver in his voice.

I bit the inside of my cheek and breathed heavily through my mouth. My hands began to drift to my hip but momentarily stopped as I remembered the chain around my neck. I slumped into the chair as Hotch dismissed the team, sending them out for their respective assignments.

“You, okay?” I whipped around to the sound of JJ’s voice. She leaned against the doorframe with an expression full of concern. Looking behind her, she noticed Spencer noticeably pacing through the bullpen waiting for a specific someone. He attempted to disguise his eagerness by counting tiles on the floor or squares on the ceiling, but to JJ he was easily discernable.

I let a dry laugh, shaking my head. “After what happened, I’m a bit worried—not about me—but Morgan and Spence.” I swiveled around in the office chair a few times until I landed in front of JJ.

“You know you fidget the same way as Spence,” she pointed out, grinning at the similarity. I shook off the oncoming warmth that flooded the skin and looked elsewhere. “You’re right to worry about both of them though. But you know how stubborn and determined they are.” As she began to walk out, she left a lingering message that soothed my nerves. “Plus, Spencer may have that IQ of his, but we all know runs things between you all.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’ve always kept a watchful eye over the both of them—maybe Spencer a little more—but nonetheless, I deeply cared about both of them. It was relieving to know that Spencer’s circle of trust exponentially grew from Morgan to JJ to me. It symbolized the growth that Spencer was mostly oblivious to, but it meant more to me than I can explain, seeing how he opened himself up to happier possibilities.

A sharp exhale left my lungs while my lips formed into a sly smirk. Without another minute to wait, I left the round table behind JJ, leaving Spencer to stop dawdling. “You ready genius?” I walked out into the hall, not sparing a glance at the figure trailing behind me.

“With you? Always.”

“Nothing here,” a voice confirmed in my earpiece. My gun hung low in my hands while I tiptoed through the floor of the apartment building. “You know Y/N, if I knew that the unsub was going to the pick a building in the area we resided in, maybe I would’ve considered having the party at Rossi’s instead,” Spencer joked.

I bit the smile growing on my lips, focusing on the assignment on hand.

“Maybe after the case, instead of reading that book in our apartment we can go over to that small library/cafe we’ve been meaning to go to,” he continued to drone, forgetting about the connection of everyone’s channels.

“Reid, if all you’re gonna do is flirt with Y/N, leave the damn channel,” Morgan warned. Hearing the worry in his tone, Spencer straightened up, coughing to cover up his soft apology. Being separated didn’t help the irrational thoughts that built up in the back of my conscience; I can’t even comprehend what’s probably going through Morgan’s head.

“You good?” I mumbled into the com; my eyes straightforward while I advanced towards the hall. Morgan didn’t respond, an inaudible huff coming through the speakers.

“I’m moving up to the top floor. Y/N and Reid, go back down to the basement and see if we missed anything,” Morgan broke the awkward silence with an austerity in his words. The silent hum that came afterwards was worse than earlier. I turned off my earpiece, sensing a conversation about to ensue between the two gentlemen.

The thickness in the atmosphere was similar to the air that surrounded me and Spencer when competing in recreational chess. Whenever I attempted to put his king in check, he would block the move by maneuvering another piece in front of it. This would lead to a game of cat and mouse until I would figure out that the entire time, Spencer had been deluding me into false security while checking my king piece. Ultimately, I would lose to Spencer. However, there were games where I’d outmaneuver him or win by dumb luck.

I’d like to think that I developed some sort of intuition for his behavior from playing against him, but he’s deemed unpredictable every game. He was always sharp, eight steps ahead and aware of all possibilities. I guess that’s what make him an effective profiler, always thinking in the future.

I ran down the stairs, still armed, when Penelope’s voice ran through the earpiece. “Updates! Updates people.” The joy in her voice always relived me of the gloom that usually surrounded me in the field; hopefully she has the same effect on Morgan.

“Hey, Pen.” An invisible grin was evident in my words, knowing she’d pick up on it.

“Hello, my love, seems like at least one person is happy to see me,” she verbally jabbed at the lack of response from Spence and Morgan.

Still no response.

“Sorry, they’re working out their marriage at the moment,” I teased, hoping for the usual distasteful comment I usually get from Morgan.

Still nothing.

An unnerving feeling crept up the back of my neck. “Penelope, can you check if their coms are still workin—shit.” Before I could finish, a long buzz of static came through the speakers. The only comprehensible words that were picked up was the beginning of my name before cutting off.

I bit my lip, pulling out the small piece of technology and tapping it a few times. “Come on... dammit.” After playing around with the earpiece, I grew frustrated with it and stuffed it into my pocket.

I paced in the small landing between the stairs, thinking of a new gameplan. I ran my fingers through the ends of my hair, feeling the split ends prick at the skin. I felt a mountain growing in at the bottom of my stomach, leaving my esophagus constricted without air. “What would Spencer do,” I mumbled to myself, gripping onto my necklace.

“Spencer...Spencer...”

Before I could finish the mantra, a shot rang out from above me, and the crashing off glass followed. In the split moment, my legs grew a mind of its own and sprinted to higher ground. Suddenly, the sweat perspiring off me turned cold, and my heartbeat slammed itself into my spinal cord as I ran. My feet forgot its exhaustion while my mind devoured every irrational thought, and combined it with adrenaline.

The single thing that drove me over my limits was knowing that the person who fabricated and would shoo away these thoughts was somewhere I didn’t know I could get to in time.

Spencer’s POV

I tiptoed into a vacant suite of the building, still antsy about the scolding I received from Morgan. The conversation after didn’t help considering it was all a reminder to be aware and focused on the task at hand. I knew Morgan was filled with the need for redemption despite the team forgiving him of his ignorance. So, I shook off the creeping feeling and abided by his instructions.

Deciding to update Y/N and Morgan about my whereabouts, I spoke into the coms only to have static come out of it. I tried once again but failed to reach anyone. The room around me shrank as a sharp exhale left my lungs. I swallowed the buildup of saliva in the back of my throat, feeling uneasy about not knowing what’s to come.

Seeing at the area was clear, I looked out of one of the windows. Initially I cringed at the accumulated dirt and grime in the glass panes, but that all dissipated when I spotted the quaint park that Y/N loved. No one else had any interest in the community lot, seeing as people would coin it—or what Y/N would tell me—the park of death. But to her, she saw the opposite as she always does.

The light feeling of reminiscing my interactions with Y/N soothed the disconcerting atmosphere, keeping me grounded. Although the sentiment ended as soon as it started when I spotted one of the apartment walls was spray-painted with black letters.

Zugzwang

A blaring shot rang out and glass shattered into the room. I ducked into the floor, shutting my eyes. My head spun as the boom impaired my hearing. The window was forcibly open, the shards resting beside me. Left disoriented, I groaned, only feeling the after wave of vibrations on the ground. However, I soon found out that the quake of the floor wasn’t from the initial shot, but the rapid clobbering of feet inching closer to the suite and a shadowy figure preceding it.

Y/N emerged from the doorframe, panting. Eyes were laced in fear while they bore into my own. My stomach twisted into knots from previous events while I contemplated what had occurred. The presence of Y/N wasn’t even strong enough to relinquish the egging feeling crawling in my skin. I anticipated Morgan to appear, considering he was closer to the scene.

Where was he?

Another thing I didn’t anticipate, a second shot.

“Spencer?”

January 3rd

Three months after

My thoughts antagonized one another while I stared out into the world from the eerily quiet apartment. The living room was cold and empty despite the array of furniture scattered about and the broken picture frames lining the walls. The vapor rising from the cup of tea drifted into the air, vanishing into nonexistence. It’s funny how that could happen in a matter of milliseconds.

The pain the lived inside the chambers of my heart was no match for the burning of skin I felt when holding onto the steaming cup. The only worthy adversary would be the rush of self-resentment that coursed through me when picking up the book. I deserved it though. I deserved the spikes through my stomach while my fingers trailed the deckled pages, reminding me of the first time I held the book, its previous owner present with me.

I would remember our time together.

I would remember the promise shared between us.

I would remember the bloodied handprint pressed against my chest.

Now all I had was the physical manifestation of what’s left: the necklace. As cruel as it was for me, I kept it in the book, using it as a bookmark while I lost myself into poems. After a while, the inked words lost their meaning to me, becoming an empty cacophony that encased the jewelry.

Every time I grasped the chain in my clutches, a numbed ache would make itself known at the pit of my stomach. It clawed at my intestines and made the entirety of my body system obsolete. With that, I was abandoned with the sinister hauntings of my own mind—a part of me that I was once praised for.

A genius. A prodigy. Hidden behind the real mess of a guilty man.

I ignored the smashed chess board and pieces that laid still at my feet, concentrating on the snowflakes that littered the park across from the building. The grounds looked beautiful, covered in layers of pure white. I sipped at the tea once more letting my mind deteriorate with a sophisticated nonchalance.

What a tragedy it was to know my soulmate, especially right under the tip of my nose. What a cruel joke life had played.

I wished I had more time.

It was easier to let the guilt consume me rather than pondering on what I lost—who I lost. Had I lost myself too? Maybe, it didn’t matter. In some masochistic way, I enjoyed the guilt because it was a way to remember that at one point someone made for me existed. I used it to relive the moments I could never get back.

All that remained was an empty shell of a man, staring out into a dull world, wondering how time took everything away from him.

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uglypastels · 3 years

Text

Slide In // Frat!Tom

(a/n) I’ve never written this au before, in like a full fic i think, so i have no idea if this is good, but i had this idea in the middle of the night and yeah. I hope you guys enjoy. this may or may not have been inspired by a certain post @duskholland made about Tom and his mirror selfies <3 how amazing that he literally just posted one today lol

word count: 16.7k

warning: drinking, mention of drug use (weed), school, social anxiety, some smexy innuendos. i made some big last minute changes, so i hope its all coherent.

DEEPFAVE: Liking a photo (or any post) from over a year ago.

It was a cloudy morning, and it was early. Really really early. Not even the birds felt up to it, it felt like. The campus was slowly awakening or going to sleep (depending on if you had been to last night’s Delta Kappa party, of course).

It was cold, and the leaves fell off the branches with each huff of the morning breeze. The grass was wet from the previous night’s rain, and it soaked your ankles as you ran through the small grass field, in hopes to cut a bit off the distance to your lecture hall.

It had not been your fault that you overslept. You had gone to bed early; your backpack was already packed for the next morning. It was supposed to be a relaxing morning, perfect for easing back into it after a week of sleeping in and celebrating the holidays. How could you have expected that your roommate would barge into your dorm at 2 am, still whoo-ing her drunk ass in the corridor with other wasted idiots?

And it wasn’t like you were against all that partying and drinking. You would have gone yourself to the frat party, but it just didn’t sit right with you. A giant house full of intoxicated strangers- the anxiety running through you just thinking about it was making you shake.

So, instead of “living a little”, as your older brother called it, you preferred to stay in bed most evenings, either watching Netflix or reading a book. Yet, still, you had been kept awake for so long last night that you slept through your alarm. What was supposed to be a calm morning turned out to be ten minutes of rushed panic. Eventually, you had decided to skip most of your morning routine, including breakfast, brushing your hair or even putting on a decent outfit. You ran out of your dorm, clutching on to your bag, phone and keys.

Your hair was reasonably alright. It was still in the braid you had made before going to bed, but a lot of hair had fallen out during your slumber. When you looked in the mirror though, you saw that it looked decent so you let it be. Not so much could have been said for your outfit. You kept on the same shirt in which you slept in, which was a slightly oversized grey graphic tee from a random indie concert you had been to ages ago. Unfortunately, it was so cold that you couldn’t just go outside in your shorts, so had to spend a precious minute slipping into a pair of sweatpants that were actually not as bum-looking as you had feared.

Luckily, the walk (or in this situation, run) to the lecture hall was short. So, you survived with only a thick sweater over your arms.

And so, just like that, you were running through campus. The cold air was piercing your lungs as you inhaled deeply. Each breath started with this whistling sound, as you tried to ignore that pain, and ended in an exhale of a cloud of condensation. Maybe you weren’t in the best shape, but even this horrible experience would not make you sign up for the campus gym. No way.

You could see the lecture hall doors, the wide wooden panelling already towering over you, and you slowed down. You were trying to catch your breath and composure. As always, the doors were heavy and to add to it, the wood could not handle the temperature, so it was even harder to open them.

“Oh, let me,” you suddenly heard behind you, almost making you jump. The voice sounded familiar, but it wouldn’t click to a particular face just yet.

“Thanks,” you breathed out as an arm extended from behind you, clad in a leather jacket, and pushed the door open with ease. You followed the arm up with your eyes and saw how it connected to an actual person. Yes, you definitely recognised him. But what was his name again?

T- something starting with a T.

He smiled at you politely, nodding the gesture for you to go inside.

“Thanks,” you said again, before finally moving.

“No problem,” he was walking behind you but quickly caught up to your side. You saw in his hand a Starbucks coffee, which almost made your mouth water.

“Professor Dowling’s lecture, right?” he asked, before taking a sip. Your eyes unconsciously followed the movement as the need for caffeine was growing.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah,” you shook your head, focusing on anything but the delicious rich smell that you could sense coming from the cup—dark roast.

“Well, good to know I won’t be the only one late,” he chuckled. Troy? Was that his name? No. He didn’t look like a Troy.

“We’re not that late,” you checked your phone and cursed internally, “only… nine minutes.”

“Dowling doesn’t care if it’s nine minutes or nine hours. Late is late.” He took another sip. You had to look away before your stomach realised how empty it really was.

“True, I guess. Well, it was nice knowing you.” You sighed as you had reached the second door leading to the lecture room. Ty raised an eyebrow. No, his name was definitely not Ty. What was it?!

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Dowling is gonna kill us, isn’t he?” You explained, and he nodded in agreement.

He was again the one to slowly and quietly opened the door, giving you insight into the room. You almost yelled out in excitement when you saw that the lights had been somewhat dimmed for a slideshow that the professor was giving. You have Tim (nope, not Tim) a knowing look and smile. You had been saved. Then, the two of you slipped into the room, letting the doors close themself. You saw a few people turn their heads as you walked by together, searching for a seat, but you didn’t think much of it. You would have looked too if someone dared to be late for one of Dowling’s lectures.

Finally, you found an empty seat. Two, actually. It was in the back of the class, so you hoped that once the lights would go back on, Dowling wouldn’t immediately notice the addition of two more faces. The mystery guy, as you were too tired to think of more names and decided to give up, sat down next to you. He pulled out his laptop and turned it on, quickly putting it on the lowest setting of brightness. Just before he had opened it up, you noticed a few stickers. Between a few references from tv shows and movies, you saw the logo of Delta Kappa. You only recognised it because you had been seeing the logo on almost every notice board the last few days together with the campus-wide invitation for last night’s party.

So he was a frat boy.

You looked up to the side at him as you pulled out your laptop and notebook. The notebook was more for doodling than anything. But also to write down some more of the essential or just entertaining parts of the lecture, since you had come to realise that writing things down by hand helped you remember better.

Your heart stopped beating for a second as you opened your laptop, praying that no embarrassing tabs were open or, even worse, you still had Spotify playing on full blast. But you could let yourself relax when the laptop just showed you your desktop.

Right then, you could hear your stomach growl of hunger.

“Here,” suddenly T, as you decided to call him for the time being, slid over his coffee to your small desk. You looked up at him in confusion. He had a cap on, so there was not much you could see in the dark shadow, but you saw his sincere smile.

You thanked him before grabbing the cup. Since it was Starbucks, you hoped to learn his name finally. But instead, in black marker, was written “Holland”. Last name. Well, that was something.

_________________________________

“Thank you,” y/n said before grabbing the drink, taking a look at the name written on it, and taking a big sip of it, although she quickly pulled it away from her lips, her face distorted in a sour expression.

“Sorry,” Tom apologised, “my hand had slipped when I was pouring in the sugar.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” she whispered, still a bit disgusted, but it didn’t stop her from taking another large sip. “How can you drink this stuff?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Tom grinned.

Times weren’t exactly desperate, in his case.

The party had been a massive success. Everyone seemed to have had a great time, and this time, not even at the cost of any of the frat house furniture. Sure, some people might have thrown up in the cooking pans, but that could be easily cleaned up by one of the pledges.

It all ended around 2 am, which was fairly early, but it was, of course, a school night. Tom remembered to drink water before going to sleep and woke up with only a mild headache. A few painkillers solved that pretty quickly. He got up, stumbled a bit over the mess around the house and was on his way to class.

He was sure he would have made it on time if it wasn’t for his usual appetite and need for coffee. Yes, he could have made it at home, but for some reason, the coffee from that machine always tasted like piss. And Tom did not want to find out why. So, it had almost become routine for him to stop by the Starbucks that was on the way from the house to the lecture halls.

What he had not expected was the giant line of customers inside. More people had felt the need for coffee after a wild night of partying. He recognised some girls, still wearing the same dresses they wore to the party. A few guys who looked like they were on the verge of death were sipping their drinks in the corner of the room. The two baristas were running around behind the counter, trying to make the drinks as fast as possible. As fellow students, they knew that there were a lot of people rushing to get to class, at least.

Tom had even looked at his phone, checking the time before he decided to step into the queue. He had majorly misjudged the time it would take the baristas to make the few drinks before it was his turn to order. In the meantime, people would walk up to him, also recognising him from the party, to tell Tom what a great time they had last night.

Finally, he got his drink and made his way over to the second station and poured in some sugar. For that extra kick of energy, but also, secretly, because he could not stand the bitterness of coffee. Then, it was really time to leave the crowd. Tom never really minded people and was definitely what you call a “social butterfly”, but there was always a limit. And the limit on a Monday morning was minimal. Even smaller, if you are still trying to get rid of a hangover.

He had just reached the main square of campus when he saw the big clock. He was already late, so it wouldn’t do much to run. Professor Dowling did not care for excuses or how late you were, even if it was a second. So he could as well just take his time.

Others had different ideas apparently.

Tom watched as someone ran across the grass, clutching on to their backpack. She stopped at the same door that he was heading for, so he got to have a good look first. The first thing he saw was the back of her head. Hair made up in a braid that was falling apart. A large black sweater, probably her boyfriend’s, was covering most of her frame.

She was trying to pull open the door that had the word PUSH on them, but Tom didn’t say anything. It was early, and by the looks of her, not that he was judging, she didn’t have a great morning.

When they had made eye contact, he recognised her from the lectures but did not think he had ever heard her name being mentioned. Professor Dowling loved interacting with the class, no matter how large, and often called out people to answer his absurd questions. She had never put her hand up to answer. Tom was sure of it; he would have remembered her name.

It interested him to see her pull out, not only a laptop but also a notebook. Did people even use those anymore? Even the dim light he could see the words scribbled on the cover. The decorative style did kind of make it hard to miss it.

Property of y/f/n.

So that was her name. Tom couldn’t help but smile to himself.

Having already missed the first ten minutes, he tried his best to focus on the words of the professor, but some things just couldn’t go unnoticed.

By the look y/n was giving his coffee cup, he could tell that she had not had any herself and the sound of her empty stomach as they sat next to each other only confirmed his suspicion. So, it only felt like the right thing to do to give her some. And the smile he got in return definitely made it worth it.

His attention was entirely gone by that point, as he watched her open her notebook. It was filled with little drawings. Some were more distinct than others. There were the classic five-petal flowers and the single mysterious eye with no other entity attached to it—also a few little scratchy tornadoes and random filigree. Patches of just lines and different patterns filled up the corners and extended out to the middle of the pages. Tom also definitely recognised a few attempts at bringing back the Super S in there.

But what also filled up the page were little characters. She must have drawn them during the lectures around Halloween because he recognised a little witch, stylised to the perfect amount of cuteness. There was also a cauldron of bats flying off to the side.

Tom could have looked at it for much longer and still find some more doodles in there, but unfortunately, she flipped the page. This one was blank. She took out a pen and started to doodle mindlessly.

First, a straight line, to which she attached little ovals. Lightly, but the lines got darker, the more she went over it. Then she made some more lighter lines across it. It made him chuckle when he recognised what it finally was—a piece of wheat. The way she stopped drawing for a second, Tom thought that she had not realised what she was drawing either. It was just a random coincidence where a few lines suddenly could make up an existing object. Then she continued.

From time to time she’d stop to make a note somewhere in the middle of the page, something that professor Dowling said that made her giggle. It was adorable to hear.

“Now, this,” Tom could hear the professor say from his little podium, the two little words shook everybody in the room awake because those they were code for IMPORTANT. As Dowling kept on talking, y/n closed her notebook and pulled her laptop closer to type. Tom had to pull himself together to focus on the actual lecture.

Then the sound of her stomach pulled him out of that. That was followed by the whisper of an angry “fuck”. Tom looked over to y/n again. She was trying to type something out, but her shaking fingers kept pressing the wrong buttons. She was crumbling apart from hunger.

Crumbling…

Suddenly, Tom remembered. He leaned down to look in his bag, hoping it was still there. It was.

“Hey,” he nudged her side, making her look up at him once more, with caution. He grabbed the small pack of Oreos and slid them over to her desk. She looked perplexed. Then she pushed the, slightly flat-looking, cookies back to Tom. He frowned.

“I thought I’m not supposed to be taking candy from strangers.” She whispered. Tom chuckled and pushed the pack of four cookies back to her.

“Well, good it’s not candy then. Eat. I can tell you’re starving.”

Y/n looked at the Oreos, not sure whether to take them or not, but her stomach answered for her. She opened her mouth, but then she closed it again and turned away. Tom understood it. It would have been the fourth time she would have said: “thank you”. By now, he got the message. As she opened the packet of cookies, Tom went back to listening to the lecture.

_________________________________

You hesitated before taking the cookies. Were they some kind of prank? You knew how frat guys loved to pull jokes on everyone, even if they were no better than middle school hijinks or cheesy April fools clichés. But the silver packet, except that it looked a bit flat, seemed to be untouched. Most likely because of getting squashed by something in his backpack.

You opened it and were immediately hit with the delicious whiff of chocolate. You took out one cookie and didn’t bother with the usual way of splitting it open to eat the filling first. You needed food. Now. Even if it were just four broken Oreo cookies. It was better than nothing.

Obviously, you were still hungry and in need of a proper breakfast, but the small snack helped you hold out for the rest of the lecture.

But now that your stomach was sorted for, you had another problem concentrating. Your new, still unnamed, friend tended to type very loudly. At first, you looked over in a bit of annoyance, which made you actually notice his hands. There was nothing special about them. They were naturally just hands, but the way he moved his fingers across the keyboard… it made you look back in that general direction a few times more.

Probably because of all these distractions, the usual hour and 45 minutes felt much shorter. Before you knew it, professor Dowling was saying his goodbyes and everyone around you started packing up their things.

Needing to get some food ASAP, you packed up your things and practically ran out of the room. Only as you were nearing the cafeteria did you realise that you had never said goodbye to your snack provider.

Shit.

_________________________________

“Hey, so I was thinking-” Tom was going to suggest grabbing a bite for breakfast together, being somewhat hungry himself, but when he looked up y/n had already packed her things and was on her way to the stairs, following the other students out the door.

Tom sank back down into his seat.

“Any problems, Mr Holland?” Tom’s head shot forward to see professor Dowling looking up at him. When he looked around, he saw he was the only one who had not started packing up.

“No, everything’s alright, sir,” Tom said before getting up with his laptop. “Great lecture. Learned a lot... and stuff.”

“Good, good,” Dowling said. His glasses were slipping off his nose slightly, so he pushed them back up with his middle finger. “I did not expect you to have heard anything, by the way you and miss y/n were chatting.”

The professor’s words made Tom’s cheek burn up as he pushed the laptop back into its place in his bag. That man saw everything.Suddenly he felt as if he was in middle school again.

“Try to not make it a habit.”

“No, sir,” Tom said.

Dowling just nodded, meaning the conversation had ended and giving Tom permission to sprint out of the room.

He wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry. Maybe he was hoping to find y/n waiting outside the doors. He didn’t even know why he wanted to see her there. He just did. He had this urge just to watch her doodle in that notebook of hers. There was something so endearing about it.

Alas, no one was waiting for him outside that door. Or even in the proximity of it. There was no one but groups of students making their way from and to class.

Then, Tom realised that she must have run off to the cafeteria. Still, he decided against going there. As much as he wanted to talk to y/n again, he didn’t want to come off stalkerish. Besides, they’d have another class tomorrow. He could speak to her then.

“Ayo! Holland!” Tom looked over to a group of people he recognised to be his friends. They were gathered around one of the large windows that was open in the hallway. He waved to them before making his way over.

“What’s up, man? You looked like a lost puppy.” Jacob said.

“No nothing, I just zoned out a little, I guess.” Tom shook his head, clearing it off thoughts of y/n.

“Well, we were thinking,” his best friend and fellow Delta Kappa resident, Harrison joined in on the conversation, “There is this new bar opening next week. The… something- shit, what’s it called again?” He looked over at the rest of the group.

“The Sterling,” it was Zendaya that answered. She was sitting on the window sill with both legs in front of her, not living much space for anyone else to sit. She had something between her fingers, and Tom could not make out if it were a regular cigarette or a joint. (The smell insinuated at nicotine, so that answered for itself.) The fact that they were on campus did not make much difference to them. She took a drag and blew the smoke out, before handing it to Harrison.

“So, Holland, you’re in?”

“Yeah of course.” There’s nothing like the hysteria of drinking yourself sick in some new dingy place across campus. A new one would open up every few months because its predecessor would get shut down after too many accounts of selling alcohol to minors. It had almost become a game for younger students to see how quickly they can destroy a business. Tom and Harrison had been record holders for a while. Five weeks. Tom wasn’t exactly sure how anyone could tell they were the reason for The Six-Ball to close, but it didn’t matter. (“With a name like that, they deserve to shut down,” Harrison had joked before ordering two Long Island Iced Teas.)

Now that they were of the legal drinking age, of course, maybe it wasn’t as fun to go to those shitty holes in the wall, but with the right people, they made it a party every time.

“Nice! So-” Jacob started talking about how he thought the night had to go, but Tom was already zoned out again. Between Zendaya and Harrison, he had the perfect view of the small grass field. Some people had sat down there with their friends to enjoy the midday, but most people still considered it too cold to sit outside. But what Tom was looking at was behind the grass field. It was the cafeteria doors. He saw that large sweater again. y/n walked out, holding something that looked like a sandwich. Tom smiled to himself.

“What are you smiling about?” He got nudged in the ribs by someone.

“Oh, you know, the uhm-” he had no idea what the rest of his friends had been talking about to include in his lie.

“I know,” Harrison said, lounging his arm across Tom’s shoulder to point in the same direction that Tom had been looking at. Tom froze up when he pointed straight at y/n with his finger.

“Angela Pikowski.”

“What?” It took Tom a second, but indeed, right in front of y/n, stood Angela with her own group of friends. She laughed at something, whipping her bottle bleached blonde hair across her shoulder. He understood too, how Harrison had caught her so quickly in his vision, for she had her jacket open and her shirt was pretty tight and low cut. How did that girl not catch pneumonia or some shit?

“You ain't slick, bro.” Harrison patted him on the back. Tom, not wanting to get into it more than he needed, just grinned awkwardly. When he looked out into the square, Angela still stood there, but y/n was gone.

_________________________________

The campus food was never that good, but it didn’t matter. The feelings of having actual food in your body felt so good that it might as well have been a five-course meal from a three-star Michelin restaurant. While, in reality, it was just a little bacon, egg and salad sub on stale bread.

It did not matter.

You enjoyed your breakfast as you walked down the path, back to your dorm. After that horrendous morning, and the pretty… interesting lecture, you were ready to lock yourself up in a room and do nothing but watch Netflix. And thankfully, due to having only one morning class, you could actually do it too.

You said your polite “Hi”s and “Hello”s as you passed some other people you recognised from other classes. A bit hopefully, you were on the lookout for your (still nameless!) friend from the lecture. You really had to figure out what his name was.

By the time you had reached your dorm building, your sandwich was gone. A part of you was still hungry, but you ignored that. You were probably just bored anyway.

The dorm hall was basic in every way, from the carpeted grey floor to the plainly painted walls. But the inhabitants, of course, did try to give it some life. They hung up posters and banners, flags and lights. You reached the door that was decorated with a collage of different 80s glam rock artists and walked into your room. That college had been a little bonding experience with your roommate, Marie, during the very first week of Freshman year.

When you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the lump on one of the beds. A groan erupted from underneath it when you switched on the light.

“Ruuuude,” Marie yelled out. She came out from beneath the sheets. Her hair was bigger than ever, and you could see the mascara and eyeshadow stains under her eyes, and there was still some glitter on her.

“You know, you should take off your make-up before going to sleep,” You said as you took off your sweater.

“You know, you should put some on before leaving the house,” she said before diving back underneath her sheets.

“Ouch,” you both laughed. But you couldn’t help but take a look in the mirror as you passed it. Maybe you could have used some concealer under your eyes, but it wasn’t that bad. Right?

The room the two of you lived in maybe wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small either. You were definitely one of the luckier people in the building. Your room, after all, had just enough space for the two beds, desks and closets to mirror each other on each side of the room. You also went the extra way to put up some extra shelving on your side above the bed, since one closet was not enough.

“Didn’t you have class this morning as well?” you asked as you sat down on. You could hear something coming from Marie that resembled an “Mhm”. Not in the talking mood, got it.

So, in quiet, you pulled out your laptop and searched for something that did not look mind-numbingly dumb to watch, eventually settling for a show you had probably watched five times out of pure overwhelming of choice. After a while of moving around in your bed, you found a comfortable position at last and turned the show on, ready for a day of uninterrupted laziness.

_________________________________

Tom got home a bit later than he had hoped. After making plans for the next night, his friends were determined to go out for lunch as well. What he thought would be just a quick grab-and-go, turned out to be a full two-hour lunch where they talked about anything and nothing.

He loved the company of people, but not on Mondays. Mondays were his day to do nothing except for going to class, and Tom felt like he had already done too much.

When he did get back, people were still busy cleaning the aftermath of the party. It had gone a bit wilder than Tom remembered. Some jackass had decided to spray paint one of the upstairs hallways, and the colour was not easy to get off. Luckily, it had become almost a custom for all the house members to lock their doors during a party. For privacy sake firstly, but like anything at Delta Kappa, it turned a bit into a game.

The first two unlock their door, either if the person was too tired to stay at the party or wanted to bring a guest into their room, was obliged to do something horrible. It was up to the rest of the house to decide what. Fortunately for Tom, he had not been the first to unlock his door that night. That luck fell on poor Billy.

Even if it came to be so, the rule didn’t make sense because no one could check who the first one was to open their door and even if- it was not an official Delta Kappa rule. That meant that, even if the person got caught to be the first, they could simply deny the dare. They would be known as Head Chicken, of course, but there were worse things in life.

Tom moved up the stairs, saying hi to a few of his roommates, feeling very lucky as one of the senior members of the house, he did not have cleaning duty. Most of that was up to the pledges anyway.

He remembered when he had to do all those tasks and shit to get into the house. It was so stupid; he didn’t even understand why he chose to be in a fraternity, in the first place.

He did think the other guys had gone a bit softer on himself and Harrison since at the beginning of it all, they had been chosen by the sorority of Alpha Zeta Zeta as the favourites. Still, some unspeakable things had been done that year.

But now that he lived in a giant house with some of his best friends, it all felt like it was a bit worth it. He had a great time at Delta Kappa.

One of the best pros, by far, was that he had his own bedroom. Spacious for everything he needed plus a bit more. A large, unmade, bed waited for him when he opened the door. That, and the happy barks of Tessa.

“Hello, darling,” he bent down to pet her as she jumped to his knees. Tessa was the official mascot of the fraternity, but she had very early on found a great liking to Tom. It only took her a few days to get settled in his room, and from then on, she wouldn’t sleep anywhere else.

Tom moved up to his bed, and Tessa gladly joined him. She patted down a circle before lying down with her head on his chest, letting out a satisfied huff of air. Even if he wasn’t comfortable, Tom had no way out anymore. He was stuck. With nothing else to do, he took out his phone and went through his notifications.

Some texts from Harrison and Jacob, a missed call from that girl he made the mistake of giving her his number. People were getting Wi-fi again because he got at least twenty different Snapchat pictures and videos from the party.

What else there was plenty of, were Instagram mentions and tags. He went through the photos, smiling. It really had been a great party. Then, something popped up in his mind.

Property of: y/f/n

y/f/n

Could it be that easy? He could just search for her and hope to find her account. He typed it in. Her first name was already enough to get plenty of results. As always the profile pictures were too small to really make out a true identity, so he made his way through the accounts.

He only needed three tries, though. The picture already resembled her, so with hope, he clicked on the account.

This account is private. Follow this account to see their photos and videos.

Tom sighed. Not so easy after all. Then he saw the bio. It was a bit vague, just a few random emojis. But what interested him was the Followed by and the fifteen mutual followers that she had. It couldn’t be anyone else.

For some unknown reason, his heart was beating in his throat as he clicked on the blue Follow button and watched it turn grey. Now it was just a matter of waiting until his request got accepted. Or maybe denied. Who knows.

_________________________________

Watching a show for the fifth time got a bit boring. You could still laugh at the jokes, but at the same time, you could also almost flawlessly quote it as the scene went along. So, a few episodes in you took out your phone and started scrolling through various app feeds.

Marie had fallen back to sleep since you could hear her snore in her bed. And you were falling asleep slowly too. It was so warm in your room, and your bed was so soft and comfortable. Your eyes were getting heavier by the second.

Then a notification popped up, brightening up the screen in your hand. Half-awake, you tried to read it.

(your account): Tom Holland (@tomholland2013) has requested to follow you.

Tom? Your mind took a moment to process. Then the face finally clicked to the name. Tom! His name was Tom!

Without much further thought you accepted the request and before you even put your phone down, you fell asleep.

_________________________________

Not to sound desperate, Tom waited for a good half hour before rechecking his phone. He clicked on the Instagram app and the search icon. Her account was still the last one from the recent searches he made. Tom clicked on the account and, to his unexplained surprise, he was greeted with a gallery of pictures.

He had noticed earlier that the count on top of the page said 53 Posts. Interested, he clicked on the first one. It was a picture of a coffee cup. It wasn’t tagged, but Tom recognised it to be from that café Le Moulin. He saw the distinctive black windmill on the napkin that could not be missed.

He scrolled down.

It was a selfie from last summer. The filter slightly enhanced her bright smile on the picture, but Tom could tell it was more to show off the warm atmosphere of her holiday destination. The next photo was from the same holiday, he assumed, of her and a group of friends. He recognised the girls from campus. When he tapped the picture for the tags, he saw their names. @tiffani.btx @bonne_marie @lucywithnodiamonds

He thought to have spotted that Marie chick at the party. She was French if he remembered correctly. She was definitely a wild one. Might have even grinded up against him during one of the better songs that were played.

There were some more selfies, solo and with friends, sunsets and landscapes. The picture quality got worse as he scrolled down. It matched with the timeline. People should not be keeping up their pictures from seven years ago, especially not with all those fucked up filters they used back then. Tom was, of course, one of those people.

He scrolled to the last picture; it was of a dog—one of the cutest little labrador puppies.

Out of nowhere, Tessa barked in her sleep, making Tom jump up. This sudden movement, in its turn, woke the dog up completely. Tessa kept barking.

“Right, I think it’s time for a walk, what do you think?” He patted Tessa on the head as she tried to lick his arm. Tom got up and was about to leave his room when he realised he almost forgot his phone. The screen hadn’t turned off yet, so he looked at the puppy again. But something was off this time. Something had changed.

The little blank heart under the image- it was now pink.

He accidentally liked her oldest picture.

_________________________________

There were two types of naps. Those that made you feel amazing and refreshed by the time you got up. And those that made you feel like you had fallen asleep on a bed of rocks. You felt even worse than before when you woke up. Your head was throbbing, and your bra had pushed itself into every possible part of your chest, making it that much more uncomfortable.

“What time is it?” you asked Marie, but she was still asleep.

The light of your phone almost blinded you, so you quickly put down the brightness. It was around four o’clock. Meaning you had slept for a good three hours.

Besides the time, you checked your notifications. There were not a lot of them. A few spam emails, a few texts in a group chat you never responded too and… a like on Instagram?

tomholland2013 liked your photo. 1 h

You had to think back to the moment before your nap to remember that he had in fact requested to follow you. And you had accepted it.

You clicked on the notification, and it sent you to the liked picture. To your surprise, it was the picture of your family dog, Spot. Your family had picked the name even though he was a completely yellow labrador, loving the irony.

It was your first-ever picture, from over seven years ago. Had he been stalking your account? Why the fuck would he do that?

Well, you thought, it was only fair if I do it too. So, through the like, you made your way over to his account.

First thing you noticed was the number of followers he had. 15.7k How the fuck do people even get those numbers? Well, it’s easier if you’re a hot frat guy, of course.

His profile picture was a mirror selfie, and clearly, it was his favourite composition, for at least five out of the first nine pictures in the gallery were the same style. All full-body reflections, with him holding the phone in his right hand, leaning his head a bit to look at the screen as he took the picture. His lips weren’t exactly in a smirk, but there was that cockiness in there. He really was feeling it, that was obvious.

The first picture was a classic mirror pose- A black jacket and a black hat: the same outfit he had been wearing in class. You looked at the timestamp and saw that he only posted it an hour ago. Already it had dozens of comments and a low thousand amount of likes.

You scrolled down. A denim jacket and beanie in the mirror; a grey t-shirt and sweats in the mirror; a black suit in the mirror, the list could go on. There were other pictures, mostly from the frat house parties and other events where alcohol played a significant role. There were also the occasional front camera selfies.

You couldn’t help but look at those a little bit longer. There was something about that small tight smile that he made that was so cute. In one of the more saturated pictures, with a deeper shadow, you noticed that his nose actually had a little bump in it, most likely from breaking it in the past.

But just from likes alone, you could tell that the mirror was a public favourite.

There was something about the confidence that the pictures portrayed that spoke to you.. He knew he looked good, and no one could deny it. Except, he looked so much better than good.

It was interesting to be scrolling down his posts because it was like a trip back in time. At first, it didn’t wasn’t that obvious, just maybe a change in temperature during the year that was referenced through his clothing. Then it showed a bit more as his hair started to get shorter by each picture taken. It got shorter and shorter until his hair was not much more than a buzz. The reason for the drastic hair change was explained in the next picture.

You had already scrolled down four years worth of pictures, and this one was of him (taken by someone else). Tom was standing in a victory stance on a grass field, which you recognised to be the campus square. He was only wearing boxer shorts and on his chest was painted, in bright blue paint, 𝜟K. Underneath the post, read the caption: Delta Kappa babyyy! with a bunch of other hashtags. One that was included was #deltakappapledge #initiated. Of course, it was during his pledge period.

You kind of hoped that he had to do more than just shave off his hair because he didn’t even look half that bad. It even suited him actually. Hoping to find some more evidence of that embarrassing period, you scrolled on.

The sound that came out of your mouth as you scrolled to the next picture was inhumane. Keeping to tradition, it was a mirror selfie. Behind him seemed to be some workout equipment, possibly from the campus gym, but no one would look at that. Everyone would be too focused on what was in the foreground.

It was Tom standing in front of a mirror, chest glistening with sweat as his hair draped in front of his eyes. Instead of the usual pose, he stood sideways, showing off not only his flexed bicep as he took the picture, but also the outline of all his other muscles.

Completely forgetting what you were doing, you double-tapped the post. How could you not? Only a second later, did your monkey brain realise what you had done. You had made that exact same mistake as Tom. Except while he had liked a picture of a cute dog, you had made your mark on a shirtless selfie.

As the pure humiliation flooded over you, you threw your phone to the other end of the bed with a squeak.

What’s done was done.

_________________________________

Tom came back from the walk with Tessa after an hour. They both enjoyed a long walk around the park neighbouring the campus, just to then pretend like they were too exhausted and lay in bed the rest of the day. Well, Tom pretended. Tessa seemed legitimately tired.

They went back to their position on the bed. Not sure what else to do, Tom got back to Instagram. There was no reaction to his accidental like yet. Not even a follow back from y/n. A bit rude but okay, maybe she hadn’t seen it yet?

He shook his head. He didn’t like this weird side of him. Where had it even come from? Since when did he wait for anyone to respond to him? And they weren’t even having a conversation!

Having nothing else to do, he searched through his phone gallery for a good picture to post. He chose one he had taken during lunch, on his way from the bathroom. It was still crazy that his friends wanted to go to a place where you needed to take an elevator to go to the toilet.

He didn’t care for editing, so he went through the usual Instagram process of making a post, thought of some dumb caption and send it out into the internet. Soon enough, as if they had a notification on for his activities, the likes streamed in. For the first few minutes, he tried to look through them, again hoping that y/n would be one of the likes or the heart eyes emojis in the comments, but quickly it became too much, and Tom couldn’t keep up. He still enjoyed reading the comments.

Of course, it was all one big ego boost. The praise and compliments, even if it was for something as shallow as his looks, definitely gave him a good kick of dopamine and all those other happy chemicals during the day.

Tessa was snoring and drooling on his belly as Tom went through his timeline and explore page. There was not much exciting happening in peoples’ lives, but it made the time flow by faster. An hour had gone by probably when he decided to recheck his activities. His new picture already had a few thousand likes and was close to reaching a hundred comments. He went through some of them and either liked them or responded with a matching emoji.

But as he scrolled through the activity, he saw a like that was to a different picture. A rather old one too, just from the beginning of college. And who might have liked this picture? y/n

She liked a workout selfie, huh?

With the confidence that the like gave him, Tom clicked on her account and the message button. He thought about what to send for a moment but decided against overthinking it and went with a simple-

_________________________________

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Hi

You looked at the notification for a while. He definitely saw you had liked his old picture. Was he going to make fun of you? Tease you how you had outed yourself for thirsting over him?

But maybe he just wants to talk? You tried to sound optimistic to yourself. After all, he did like an old picture of yours too. You were kind of in the same boat.

Putting all worries aside, you clicked on that damn nerve-wracking notification, and without much more thought send out the reply.

(y/n)

Hey :)

Before you could even send out the smiley, the message rose to reveal “SEEN” beneath it. Was this happening? Was it? You could see he was typing.

(tomholland2013)

After stalking me you could have at least followed me back lol

(y/n)

Right sorry just a lot of mirror selfies. Thought i’d seen everything there is to see 😂

(tomholland2013)

Rude Seen anything you like though? ;)

Uhhh, of course, you have. You liked it. A lot. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction.

(y/n)

No not really

Quickly change the subject.

So what are you up to?

Good enough subject?

(tomholland2013)

Just lying in bed with Tess

Tess? Who was Tess? Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, he would have posted something on his Instagram, right? That’s what couples did? Unless it was just a one time fling. You couldn’t even call it a one-night stand since it wasn’t even night.

Wait, why did you even care about that? You had literally only said hello to each other and shared a coffee during class.

But the curiosity was gnawing at you.

(y/n)

Tess?

(tomholland2013)

Yeah, she’s falling asleep on my chest. Kinda tired her out lol

You looked at the text, unsure how to respond, or even if to do it. Was he telling you about his hookup? It didn’t sound like the nice guy you had met in front of the lecture hall, and that gave you his leftover coffee and Oreos. Your face wrenched into a grimace, not sure anymore what to make of this conversation or of what had happened during class.

He was typing again.

Wanna see?

Jesus Christ, this was a mistake. You didn’t respond, but he still sent you a picture anyway. It was a timer, unfortunately, meaning you had to click on it to see what he had sent. But he could see you got the message and that you were online. The longer you took, the more prominent you would make it that something was wrong, and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had given you his coffee.

The curiosity got the better of you once again, though, and you clicked on the little bomb. What popped up was almost what you expected- but at the same time, so not. Before your brain properly processed what you were looking at, you were scared that he had sent you an unsolicited dick pic, but it was the furthest thing from that.

What you saw was a POV shot of his chest and legs. He was indeed lying on his bed. On his chest, however, was the head of a grey silver dog. “Tess” had her eyes closed peacefully as she slept on.

Of course, it was a dog.

You decided to be honest. For the benefit of the conversation, if anything.

(y/n)

Omg 💀

(tomholland2013)

We just came back from a long walk, so she’s pretty knackered What? Did you think I meant something else?

Embarrassment kicked in anyway.

(y/n)

No... lol

(tomholland2013)

You sooo did lmao Jealous much ;)

(y/n)

Of the dog maybe

(tomholland2013)

Cause she gets to be here with me?

(y/n)

No I meant it like She’s so cute I want one

(tomholland2013)

Relax I was just messing with you But if you ever wanna come over

(y/n)

Maybe another time

The response came out in a panic. Had he invited you for what you thought he did? No, there was no way he did. Besides, you couldn’t go to his house. You barely knew the guy- your mind kept on whirring about it. But the conversation continued.

Soon the sun had gone down, and it got dark outside, but the messages kept coming in. At one point Marie finally woke up from her hangover slumber. Drowsily she got up and headed for the shower with a towel and toiletries bag in her hand. Before she left, though. She asked you if you could prepare something to eat for dinner since she was starving. You being you, agreed.

(y/n)

Hey, I think I gotta go for a bit. Gotta make dinner for my roommate

(tomholland2013)

What’s on the menu?

(y/n)

Probably spicy ramen?

(tomholland2013)

Damn. sounds good But can’t she make it herself?

_________________________________

A part of Tom wanted to send another message. I want to keep talking to you. But that felt like a bit much. She was typing again anyway.

(y/n)

Because she’s still hungover from your party lol Thank for that btw

(tomholland2013)

You make it sound like i am personally responsible

(y/n)

Well your the only guy from DK i know so you’re** 💀fml. There go my chances of an english degree

(tomholland2013)

Nah babe YOU’RE good ;)

_________________________________

Your heart fluttered at the little word, for no reason. It was just a text message. He probably called every girl he texted that. Still, the sentiment was there. Also that winky face of his. Could he stop?

He started to type again.

(tomholland2013)

But if you ever wanna meet the other guys, you really are welcome to come over.

(y/n)

I’m good thanks.

Going to a frat house alone? You felt like that could easily be the start of your personal horror movie. It would absolutely crash at the box office, but that didn’t matter. And it was the second time he invited you to come over. If it was a hint, it wasn’t a subtle one. It didn’t stop you from doubting it.

(tomholland2013)

No need to be scared. They’re pretty chill dudes.

It was cute how he could read your mind because you were undoubtedly scared, but what he probably did not think was that you weren’t interested in meeting any other frat guy because there was only one on your mind at the moment.

(y/n)

Maybe another time ttyl?

You had sent the last message in the hopes that he had as much fun talking to you as you did with him. You watched eagerly as the three dots danced around on the screen while he typed out his answer.

(tomholland2013)

Absolutely

_________________________________

Tom turned his phone off with a smile covering his face. He had just spent talking a good two hours to y/n, and he had to admit, he hadn’t had that pleasant of a conversation with anyone in a long time. It was just so easy to talk to her. It might be partly because it was only texts. But still, she was funny, sweet, and so pretty...

Unbeknown to himself, he was falling a little bit for y/n. Although, maybe he did feel it coming. The idea of getting another text from her made his face heat up. The idea of seeing her in class the next day almost made him… giddy. And it’s only been a day.

“Hey, man,” there came a knock on his door. “Better hide anything that would make it awkward between us cause I’m coming inside in 3-2-1-”

“‘S all good,” Tom said right as Harrison walked through the door.

“We’re gonna order pizza, what do you want?”

“Just the usual, I guess,’ Tom shrugged. Honestly, he didn’t really feel like eating pizza but to be the only one that wasn’t having any wasn’t a good strategy either.

“Alright, then.” As quickly as he walked in, Harrison was also leaving the room. But he peeked his head through the door once more before actually walking away.

“Hey, are you sure you’re good?” Harrison looked at him through narrow eyes.

“Yeah,” Tom answered as he prodded himself to sit up. “Why?”

“I don’t know… Nevermind.” And with that, Harrison left to share Tom’s order.

It was a rare occasion that all the house members would be at home on a night that wasn’t reserved for a party. That night, when it came to dinner, it was around 8 of them. Everyone was already sitting on the couches when Tom came downstairs to grab his pizza. He grabbed a chair and his box and sat down. A football game was playing on tv, and it made Tom roll his eyes. He still had no real idea of how football was supposed to work. He always preferred golf or basketball, or even baseball.

The guys cheered at a touchdown or whatever but all Tom could focus on was his phone. He kept checking if there were any notifications from y/n. So far, there was nothing. She was probably busy, he told himself, not wanting to feel too disappointed.

_________________________________

“So who were you texting back then?” Marie said as she slurped on her noodles. You were playing around with your own portion a bit, not really in the eating mindset.

“Huh? No one.” you shook your head.

“So it is someone. C’mon. Who is it?” She extended her leg to poke yours. She kept going until you finally gave in.

“Just this guy from Dowling’s class.” you finally took a bite of ramen.

“Aaand does this guy have a name?” Marie kept on asking.

You looked up from your cup of noodles. “Tom… Holland.”

Marie gasped, almost dropping her food onto her lap. “Tom Holland? As in Delta Kappa Tom Holland?’ you nodded your head yes. “No fucking way.”

“What?” Not the most nuanced reaction, but it would do.

“No way you have a crush on Tom fucking Holland.” You always noticed that when Marie cursed her French accent would show up again. Just the slightest bit. This time, however, what you stayed on was her statement.

“I do not!” you said as your cheeks were heating up.

“Ohhh, you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said ‘nobody’. Everybody knows that ‘nobody’ is code for either crush, boyfriend, or drug dealer. And I think we can exclude the last option.” you were going to protest, but you would have only been fooling yourself.

“So, hypothetically, let’s say I do have a crush on him. Why did you scream out ‘No way’?” You bit your lip, a bit scared for an answer.

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that.” Marie put down her ramen on her desk and came to sit down next to you on your bed. “I didn’t mean that you, like, don’t have a chance with him. Please, if anything, you’re too good for him.’ you both chuckled. “I just didn’t think he’d be your type.”

“What, hot?” You raised an eyebrow to which she slapped your shoulder.

“You’re being difficult. I mean, so… out there. You know, he’s basically the leader of that frat house, he always parties, always has stuff to go to. And you’re… well, pretty much the exact opposite. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Completely not. I just don’t want you to put yourself in any positions that you’re uncomfortable with to impress him or anything. Remember, you are too good for him.”

“Thanks.” you hugged her from the side. “But don’t you think that it would be good for me to go out once in a while? Out of my comfort zone?”

“Sure, if you’re actually doing it for you. Not some guy.”

“He is really nice, you know.” you smiled, remembering what had happened that morning. You went on telling Marie about it.

“Oh, so he’s got a crush on you too, huh? That works out perfectly. ” She finally said when you were done telling your story. You looked at her with wide eyes.

“What? Noooo,” you said, letting an awkward laugh escape through the no.

“Fine, whatever,” Marie moved back to her own bed and grabbed her cup of ramen. “But I bet you that if you check your phone now, you’ll have at least one message from him.”

You rolled your eyes again but grabbed your phone either way. And, fair enough, you had two notifications from ten minutes ago.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: Heyy

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: I hope the ramens good

Holding in your smile, and ignoring the smart ass comments of Marie, you replied quickly.

(y/n)

It was :)

_________________________________

The speed at which Tom checked his phone when he felt the vibration in his pocket could have caused someone severe whiplash. He responded to the text and got up. Ultimately, he had hoped that he could slip out the room unnoticed, but he never got what he wanted, did he?

“Where are you going?” It was Dave that saw him get up. Tom stopped in his tracks like a little kid that got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Just up to my room. Feelin’ a bit tired.’ He explained. This answer received several strange and confused looks, but Tom ignored those and just walked upstairs without saying another word. He plopped down onto his bed. Tessa was still downstairs under the table chewing on some pizza crusts, so he was finally alone.

The texting continued through the whole night, and Tom had wholly lost the sense of time. He didn’t even feel tired. If it wasn’t for y/n saying that she was about to fall asleep, he wouldn’t at least. Like that, the windshield crashed, and he felt the fatigue from the hours of messaging and staring at a screen overwhelm him. He just about managed to send out goodnight before his eyelids were too heavy to open up again.

_________________________________

The next morning you woke up feeling much better than either time the day before. Fresh and energised, with plenty of time to get ready before class started. Not that you really put much effort into how you looked for the morning lectures. It was more mental preparation. With enough time to eat breakfast, shower and brush your teeth, you felt excellent walking out the door. Dressed in a sweater that was warmer than two jackets and some loose jeans. With your bag over your shoulder.

You always thought the walk from your dorm to the lecture halls was delightful. The path leading toward it was enveloped in a tunnel of trees, and during the end of the year, when the leaves were turning into their auburn and golden shades, it almost felt warmer than in summer. Because the harsh wind still kept up with its schedule. It blew in your face as you walked, rubbing against your cheeks.

When you got there, the lecture hall was still relatively empty. Only a few other people had taken their seats. This was the crucial moment of choosing your seat. Against all your own instincts, you walked down to the bottom of the auditorium, into the fourth row. You had never sat that closer to professor Dowling’s podium, too scared you would be too easy to notice and called to answer a question. But something in you told you to be brave.

Besides, you had the idea that Tom wasn’t eager to sit there either.

As much as those butterflies in your stomach fluttered at his mention, you didn’t want to talk to him now, not during class. You needed to pass this class badly and to do that, you needed to focus. Something you could not do with him sitting next to you.

That’s what you told yourself. It was, of course, true, but the bigger problem was that you were scared. Tom sounded like a nice guy, a very good looking nice guy, but Marie’s words played in your head. He was from a completely different world. And it was a scary one. Why not keep a bit of a safe distance at first?

So, you kept your head buried in your notebook as people started to stream into the room. One by one, the seats around you were getting occupied—none of them by Tom, for better or for worse.

_________________________________

It had taken Tom a while to find y/n. He walked into the room, thinking he had come in with plenty of time to spare, but as he was making his way down the steps, the professor was already making his way to the podium. Tom tried to look around the room as quickly as he could, but he could not see her. Where was she?

Professor Dowling coughed loudly, indicating for everyone to shut up and sit down, so he could start the lecture. Tom took the first empty seat he saw. An aisle seat somewhere around the 8th row. The course started, but Tom’s eyes stayed on the seats, looking for that braid.

It wasn’t a brilliant plan, because he had no idea if she had actually kept that braid in for another day. And she had not, in fact. He noticed her, sitting somewhere at the bottom of the class, as she grabbed her hair and was pulling it up into a bun. She did it so quickly, so smoothly, without ever letting her attention get away from her. Focused on the class. He could really learn something from her.

And he tried to take a page from her book as he finally looked ahead of him to see Dowling write an entire essay on the blackboard. He cursed himself and quickly started to type everything over. His fingers went in fully automatic mode, and he had no more idea what the words he was typing actually meant.

His mind had wandered off once again. He couldn’t stop feeling that disappointing pull at his heartstrings. He had hoped they could have had a repeat of yesterday. She apparently thought differently. Or maybe she had hoped he would sit next to her, but he was just too slow?

The lecture went on forever, felt like. Tom’s fingers were cramping up from typing so much, and he could feel his back beginning to hurt in the uncomfortable chair. He kept stealing quick glances at y/n, hoping to catch her in doing the same, but she had not moved once.

He had to get a grip. They had known each other for one day, spoken maybe ten sentences to each other in person. The rest was all through text. And nothing was the same via messages. Maybe all his feelings were coming from the entirely wrong place? Perhaps she was just polite, and he had misinterpreted it for casual flirting? Besides, there was that sweater of hers yesterday- what if she had a boyfriend?

But a part of him still wanted to ignore all those signs and go for it. So, when the bell rang, and professor Dowling finally dismissed the class, Tom made sure he was one of the first ones outside. The large hall had two exits, so he stood against a wall, somewhere in the middle between both doors, hoping to catch y/n as she was walking out.

The loud rumbling of thunder caught his attention momentarily.

It was just a second, he swore to himself. But the second was enough to miss her. Somehow she had escaped him, nowhere to be found.

_________________________________

You had seen Tom waiting out in front of the room, and you felt horrible for walking the exact opposite direction. For the sake of your own feelings, you didn’t look back at any point on your way to your second lecture.

As Professor Phillips spoke, you felt your phone vibrate.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: where are you? :)

The little smiley made heat up in the cheeks, but you tried to ignore that as you typed out a response. You didn’t even click the notification to go to the app, just responded through the shortcut.

(y/n): had another class

Another notification popped up not long after.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: wanna meet up later?

(y/n): ngl I don’t feel well, will probably head back home right after

(y/n): but i’d love to chat

You shut off your phone, too scared to see the reply. Maybe it wasn’t the best move since you could not think about anything else for the remainder of the class. When you checked your phone again on your way back to the dorms your heart was lifted.

(tomholland2013): Tom Holland: of course. hope you feel better <3

_________________________________

Tom tried to think that she wasn’t avoiding him. After all, they texted almost every possible second that they had the time for the past week

They had talked about pretty much anything and everything. And it felt great. The way they spoke to each other, or at least Tom to her, was as if they had known each other for ages.

Tom only wished he could do that with her from across a table, or a on a bench. Where ever, he didn’t care. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes as they talked and see her smile. Hear that lol and not just imagine it.

Unfortunately, y/n was kind of giving him the cold shoulder in the real life. She ignored him during classes, and was gone before he could get the chance to talk to her. Whenever he asked if they could meet, she’d give him some reason she couldn’t. If it wasn’t for the fact that they had actually already met in real life, he had vary valid reasons to think he was being catfished.

Another reason could have been that she sounded too perfect.

It was the next Tuesday already, and Tom was waiting eagerly for the lecture to end. It had been a full week and he had decided, while copying some of Dowling’s notes, that he would talk to y/n today. After class.

Tomorrow would be the opening of the Sterling and he wanted to ask her if she wanted to come.Or at least to know if she wanted to hang out ever. If the truth came to be no, he would be fine with that. He respected that. He just needed to know. It wouldn’t take away from the fact how great it was to have someone to talk to, even if it was only through text bubbles.

The bell rang and Tom sprinted out. He kept his eyes on both doors as best as possible and finally saw her.

_________________________________

“Hey, y/n!” you heard your name being called from behind you. It was from Tom. He waved to you so would come over. Taking a deep breath, you decided to wave back, but your legs were frozen in place.

You felt absolutely terrible for ignoring him and denying his various invitations to hang out or to go anywhere, but it was just too terrifying. You were scared of fucking it up. Of it to turn out to be one big joke. You had heard of frat guys using dates and hookups as dares and shit. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t let that happen.

But when you saw Tom smile at you, those worries suddenly disappeared and your legs moved without connecting to your brain. Suddenly, you found your spot next to him.

He had been leaning against the wall with one foot, his arms crossed. You decided to lean against it with your shoulder. Even though you had your sweater, you could feel the grizzly texture of the bare red brick. He smiled and mirrored your movement, so you were only a few inches apart. ,

“Hey,” he said, still with the smile on his face.

“Hey,” you replied.

Tom uncrossed his arms to brush his fingers through his hair. As you watched him do so, you couldn’t help imagine how it would feel to play with his hair. It looked so soft.

“I just wanted to say,” he licked his lips. You were so close to each other that you could see how pink and chapped they were. Focus. “How much fun I had the past week. It’s bee really great talking to you.”

“I had fun too,” you said. It really was nice talking to Tom. Especially now, standing so close to him, you could smell the coffee he had consumed that morning. Was it pumpkin spice? You felt stupid for not letting it happen sooner.

“Great, that’s- that’s really great to hear. I said great already, didn’t I?” He laughed, shaking his head, “Anyway, I was thinking: a couple of friends of mine are going to the opening of this new bar, the Sterling, it’s probably going to be a bit boring, but I thought, maybe you’d like to come? With me?” He looked at you with those big brown eyes. Your mind started racing a million miles an hour at his words. The fuzzy warm feeling that you got from looking at his smile was dispersing and setting in for anxiety.

He wanted you to go to a bar with him and his friends? Would that be considered a date? For the sake of your dignity, you decided against asking for clarification. It didn’t matter. You couldn’t go to some dingy bar with strangers, even if one of them was Tom. You could already feel your body heating up in anxiety as all the horrible scenarios played out in your head.

You realised you had been quiet for a while and Tom was still looking at you hopefully.

“No,” you blurted out. “I mean, I can’t. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Totally. Maybe another time? Or if you don’t wanna go there, we could go somewhere else?”

“Uhh,” you couldn’t breath. All his suggestions were so sweet, but it felt too overwhelming to answer. Thankfully, the clock tower at the other end of campus rang and indicated the quarter of an hour. Your next class would soon start, and it was about a five-minute walk to get to.

“I have to go.” you pointed back and started walking, but Tom grabbed your hand gently, just enough by your fingertips.

“Sorry, I just- if you don’t want to hang out with me, that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend to like me, no hurt feelings. I don’t want you to-”

“I do, Tom,” you told him with a compassionate smile. Then you looked back at the clock. “But I really got to go.”

“Right, sorry.” he let go of your hand, and you ran off to your next course.

_________________________________

“Who was that?”

As soon as y/n ran off, Tom heard the voice coming from next to him. Zendaya popped up out of nowhere, an unlit cigarette hanging between her lips as she leaned in the same spot y/n had.

“Just a friend,” Tom shrugged. That’s what they were, after all. If even. He hoped he could describe someone he had mainly only spoken through texts with as a friend.

“You sure about that?” Zendaya smirked. “Cause by the looks of it, she’s got you pretty hooked. You were basically begging her to go out with you, bro.”

“Yeah, well, forcefulness isn’t exactly an aphrodisiac, is it?” he sighed then almost turned pale at the words he had said. Zendaya didn’t say anything, just nodded and took out her glittery lighter.

“Could you not?” Tom pulled the cigarette out of her mouth before she could light it and put it in his pocket. “We’re inside, for fucks sake.”

“Fine, but tell me who this friend of yours is.” She nodded her head back into the direction that y/n ran in.

“I don’t really know. I mean I do, but- Basically we met last week before class. Then I found her on Instagram and DM’d her-”

“You slid into her DMs? Bro,” she laughed.

“Call it what you want, it was the only way of reaching her I had.”

“Fine, so you like her, yeah?”

“I guess.” Tom didn’t like sharing his feelings. It put him in this vulnerable position that he was not used to. Zendaya knew that, yet still she pushed him to do it almost every time they talked.

“For what it’s worth, I think she likes you too,” she said.

“How so?” he questioned hesitantly. It wouldn’t have been the first time that Zendaya had pulled that trick on him to date someone. And it had not ended well.

“Well, body language for one, she felt comfortable enough around you to stand close to you, facing you; she smiled at your rants which, props to her, is hard to do.”

“How long had you been watching us, exactly?” Tom asked a bit freaked out. Zendaya ignored the question.

“Believe me, she likes you. She’s just scared.” she pulled out another cigarette from her pocket, “also, taking a girl to a shithole like the Sterling for your first date? I’m glad she said no. Set some standards, man.” And with that lovely comment, she walked away. She didn’t have to see Tom flipping her off, she knew he would do it, and she replied lovingly in the same way.

That’s what you got for being friends with psychology majors.

_________________________________

The first thing you did after walking out of your second class was to check your phone if you had received any messages from Tom. There was nothing. So you decided to message him yourself.

(your account)

Hey Sorry I ran away like that And basically anytime after class and making those dumb excuses not to meet up Just so you know I do really wanna hang out with you I’m just not really great with crowds or with places like bars and stuff And ive also never really been asked to go anywhere with anyone, like personally Idk why im telling you this. I’m definitely rambling Texting is definitely easier than talking huh Sorry for all this

It took Tom two minutes to see your messages and to respond.

(tomholland2013)

It’s totally okay. I get it And sorry if i made you uncomfortable with all that. Can i come to your place tonight? Or how about we go to Le Moulin?

Le Moulin. You had been there before. You could do that. With trembling fingers of excitement, you replied

(your account)

Deal. Around 7?

(tomholland2013)

Sounds perfect. See u then

_________________________________

Tommo: Hey guys, sorry but im gonna have to skip on tonight

This short message was seen and very much not appreciated by his friends. None of the replies could be seen as appropriate for day-time television. Except for the one Zendaya had sent him through their personal chat. It was simple,

Z: 👍

With the entire afternoon off, Tom made sure he looked somewhat decent for the night. He took a shower. Washed his hair and made sure it was extra soft. He wasn’t sure what y/n thought of it, but from past experiences, he knew that usually, girls loved his hair. Thinking about other girls was probably not the best mindset, though. Still, his hair did look really good. He brushed his fingers through it.

It had not yet stopped raining, which was a bit of a problem, but he hoped she wouldn’t mind getting a bit wet. For the sake of it, he took an umbrella with him. Luckily it wasn’t very windy, so it actually came to good use. The walk from the frat house to the dorm that y/n said she lived in wasn’t too far away, and fortunately on the way to the place he had in mind to take her to.

On his way over, he thought about what Zendaya had told him.

Was y/n scared? Of what?

They had talked about that kind of stuff briefly, during the weekend, and she and said that she suffered from anxiety. Tom just thought it was stuff like giving a presentation in class. He hadn’t even thought about the more social aspect of it. And here he was pushing all those things at her like going to some bar with strangers. Jesus, why did he have to be such a dumbass?

The dorm complex had a buzzer system like a regular apartment complex, so he searched for her name on the long list, and pressed the button next to it.

“Hello?” It was her roommate, Marie, that answered.

“Hey, it’s Tom. I’m here to pick up y/n.” He could hear some indistinct giggling coming from the other side of the line.

“Of course, c’mon up. But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait a bit.” Next followed the buzzer, and the doors opened for him. The number on the button said 54, so he assumed it had to be on the fifth floor. When he walked up to the door with that number, he was greeted with a colourful collage of rock bands whose hair was probably more impressive than their vocal range, which said a lot considering Queen was on it.

He knocked and waited for someone to open. y/n was the one to do it. She stood frozen in the door, only a towel wrapped around her body.

“I thought we said seven?” she said, her voice a bit higher than usual.

“It’s quarter past seven!” Marie shouted out from inside the dorm. y/n cursed.

“Shit, sorry, I lost complete track of time. Give me ten minutes, okay?” she held up a finger so he would wait here. Tom nodded and let her close the door again. He could still hear her yell at Marie as to why she had not told her she was running late, to which Marie only responded with hysterical laughter.

“Holland?” someone in the hallway asked a few minutes later. Tom turned in the direction to see a guy with a head full of bed hair poke out of his doorway (which was covered in pictures of death metal posters and my little ponies). He stepped out in the hallway to reveal he was wearing nothing but a pair of tiny and tight briefs, leaving little to the imagination.

“Oh hey… Crocker,” he called the guy by his preferred nickname.

“Hey man, what are you doing here?” Crocker asked. The way his eyes were almost ruby red and the stench coming from his room, Tom presumed that the guy was higher than a kite.

“Oh you know, waiting for a date, heh.” He said a bit awkwardly, pointing back to door 54.

“Ah, getting some of that French jay nehsuh gwaa.”

Tom looked confused. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard someone butcher a language that badly. Well, probably, but he didn’t remember it. He kind of understood what Crocker meant, though.

“No, I’m here for y/n. Not Marie.”

“Damn? Really.” Crocker started to giggle, which might as well just have been a side effect from whatever he had smoked up in his room.

“Yeah?” He wasn’t sure how else to react. Crocker just shrugged and walked back into his room, smashing the door closed. Tom turned slowly, not sure what exactly had happened just then. And he turned right on time too, because the door of dorm 54 opened and y/n walked out. Wearing a raincoat over a sweater and jeans. She also had a pair of black ankle boots on. Tom could not help but smile at the sight of her.

“Sorry about that,” she said, the nervousness in her voice was unmistakable.

“First,” Tom spoke, remembering one of his earlier worries from days ago, “you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?” The question made her laugh.

“I very much do not. Why did you think that?”

“The sweater you wore when we met. It had that whole stole-it-from-my-boyfriend vibe.”

“No, I haven’t had anyone to steal clothes from in a long time.” she shook her head. Tom extended his hand for her to take, which she gladly did. It felt amazing.

“So what will you be ordering?”

“Ice cream,” Tom answered, almost matter-of-factly.

_________________________________

“Ice cream?” you asked to make sure you had heard him correctly. He nodded in agreement. “Don’t you think it’s a bit cold for that?”

“No.” He said bluntly, which really sold the case for you. You were on your way again.

You could hear the rain pound against the main door before you even reached the ground floor, and it only got harder and louder the nearer you got. Tom, being a true gentleman, opened the door for you, but you were a bit hesitant to walk outside.

“Oh, shit. Sorry,” he let you hold the door so he could step through the threshold and push open the umbrella. You noticed it was a Delta Kappa umbrella. They really made merch of everything. As he put the umbrella up, he extended his arm for you to intertwine yours through. Then, you walked.

Though it was relatively early, the sky was pitch black because of how early the sun set those days and the dark clouds that had been pestering the sky that entire day. Not a star was to be seen. The rain tapped heavily against the umbrella, and you tried to stay as close to Tom as possible. The excuse, of course, was to not get wet but really you wanted to enjoy the warmth that he was giving off. At one point you had changed position from just having your arm over his, to him wrapping his arm over your shoulder.

You walked down a brightly lit path, so you could see everything around you. The trees, the cars passing by, the building. So, when you saw the little café at the end of the street, you squealed.

While there were plenty of bars, pubs and clubs to go to around town, so there were restaurants and cafés. And while restaurants really weren’t your thing, you loved to sit in one of the cosy coffee shops with a cup of tea or coffee and read a good book. Another fun thing about all those places was that they were very internationally orientated, speaking to the wide variety of students that the university had. Le Moulin was of course based on a Parisian café. You had actually found it together with Marie, in hopes she could have something that felt a bit closer to home. Though it didn’t come close to the real magic of the French capital, it still had plenty of its charm in it. Not to mention, the pain du chocolats were to die for!

Yet, you had never actually had ice cream from their menu.

You still weren’t sure if today would be the day for it. By the time you wear under the little entrance roof, you were freezing, and so was Tom, visibly.

“Are you still sure about the ice cream?” you asked him as he closed the umbrella.

“Hot chocolate?” he suggested, suddenly fluent in your love language: chocolate and hot drinks (it was a very simplified version of said love language).

This time Tom got to be the real gentleman as he let you walk inside first. He dropped the umbrella in the stand, together with a few others. When you looked around the café, you saw that a few more couples were enjoying the cosiness. A sweet melody was playing from the speakers. The rain had also softened outside, and together with the vintage sounds of guitar and vocals, it gave the perfect atmosphere for the night.

You had barely stepped inside when one of the waiters walked up. He smiled and said: “Your table is ready,” which surprised you, but Tom took you by the hand, and you both followed the waiter to one of the tables next to the wall, where one side had a couch instead of the usual chairs. You sat down first, taking off your jacket. Tom was going to sit opposite you, but now it was your turn to grab his hand.

“Slide in.”

He smiled and sat down. He probably didn’t need any convincing and just wanted to hear you say that you wanted him to sit next to you. You didn’t mind that.

“Should I prepare the order?” the waiter asked as you made yourself comfortable, again confusing the hell out of you.

“Actually, scrap that. We’ll have two large hot chocolates.” Tom said.

“With cinnamon!” you added.

“One with cinnamon.” Tom corrected. The waiter nodded and walked off.

“Don’t like cinnamon?” you quizzed, to which Tom shrugged.

“It’s alright, just not a big fan.” Both of you looked around the room. You had never been in the café at night, so you hadn’t even realised that the walls were covered in soft gold lights, giving it all that much more the feeling as if you had stepped into a fairytale.

“I didn’t know this place took reservations.”

“I’m not sure either,” Tom replied, you noticed he had his arm draped around you again, “I just called to be sure.”

“Really?” That split you up into two. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought that he had made a special call to the café to get, probably, the best seat in the house. On the other side, you were freaking out for a few reasons. He had put in quite the effort in an almost last minute notice of plans, while you were fifteen minutes late. That was embarrassing enough. And this reservation basically put you in a spotlight for the entire business, which was really not ideal. You didn’t want to be noticed.

“Hey,” he whispered and squeezed his grip around you lightly, “everything okay?”

“Huh? Mhm,” you nodded your head and smiled, trying not to think about how the waiters might be judging you.

“I saw you had posted a picture from this place on your Instagram, and I used to come here a while back, so I thought it would be cool, but if you don’t like it-”

“It’s perfect,” you made up your mind. In the end, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. You felt safe, sitting on the little couch, next to Tom.

Soon after, the waiter came back with two mugs of hot chocolate. When Tom ordered large ones, they delivered. The mugs might as well have been cereal bowls, topped with a peak of whipped cream and cocoa powder, and a cinnamon stick in your cup to distinguish the two drinks.

“Et voila!” the waiter put the cups down. You thanked him, and he was gone again.

There were spoons, but you decided to stir your chocolate with the cinnamon stick.

Still with his arm around you, Tom took his mug up to his lips. With the feeling of having him so close to you, you wondered what this really was. What if he just wanted to be friends and spend some time with you? Had he noticed how sad and lonely you were, and did he want to take his pity out on you? Were you a charity act for him? God, you hoped not. You really really hoped not.

“Tom?” You looked at him, to see his eyes dart in your direction. His top lip was covered in whipped cream. You gestured it to him, slightly giggling, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand. How was someone that hot, so adorable?

“You were saying?” he said, putting the mug down on the table in front of you.

“I was just wondering,” Be quick, get it over with, you’ll feel better when you say it. “is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be? It doesn’t have to.” He added the second part quickly after.

“I- I think I do,” I smiled. Though he had just put his mug down, he picked it right back up, you did the same.

“Then a date it is.” You clinked cups. Still, something felt off. You were holding the cup up to your lips, but just far enough not to be able to drink from it. Your eyes glazed over as you focused them on the mural in front of you. It was of the Paris skyline. With the Eiffel tower in the middle, the Arc de Triomphe a bit to the left, on the other side stood the two symmetrical towers of the Notre Dame cathedral. It was probably geographically inaccurate, just good enough to keep everyone who had never been to the City of Love satisfied.

“Okay, something’s up.” Tom brought you back to the date. “What’s wrong? And, please, be honest.”

“I don’t know,” you huffed out a laugh. “But before you start to freak out, it’s nothing to do with you, I swear.”

“So, you kind of know what it is about.” he raised an eyebrow. He had a point. If you knew what it was not, it meant you knew what it was, indeed.

“I, uhm,” suddenly you felt very much aware of everything and everyone around you. Were they listening? “Well, I really want to apologise for being so distant outside of Instagram.”

“There’s really no need for that, darling,” he said. “I understand it, and should have been a bit more considerate. I should have realised sooner that bars and shit aren’t your cup of tea.. or hot chocolate.”

You both laughed.

“Yeah,” you were smiling, but the word came out a bit as a sigh, conveying your all the troubling thoughts that were going on in your brain.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Tom saw through it. You bit your lip, not sure how to say it. You didn’t want to say it. He would probably think you were a joke. Besides, all those people around. Some of them from your school. They could probably hear every word you were saying.

“Do you maybe want to text it to me?” he suggested with a kind smile. You hadn’t realised when he had moved, but he had let go of your shoulders, and his hand was now on top of yours. His thumb moved slowly over your skin, reassuring you that, whatever it was, it was okay.

How you hoped it was.

You grabbed your phone and started to type out your message, taking a deep breath before sending it to him. You heard the vibration in his pocket, and with it, your heart skipped with anxiety. Tom kept holding on to your hand as he took out his phone and read the text. His eyes shot wide open.

“Wait, really?”

_________________________________

“Never?” he asked, to which she bit her lip and shook her head.

No, it wasn’t possible.

“How has no one- nooo,”

“It just… never got far enough- No, I mean, ugh,” she finally took a sip of her hot chocolate. Tom had to admit that it was cute how that was her go-to frustration action. She wiped off the whipped cream from her lip. Tom couldn’t stop looking at them, they were just so perfect. He wanted to feel her, to taste her. He wouldn’t even mind the taste of cinnamon that would have remained on them.

“There was just never a guy that made me think, oh yeah, I want to kiss him,” she said after another sip of the hot chocolate.

“So, you’d want to kiss me?”

“Shut up,” she said glaring, but just to hide the big smile on her face.

“Sorry, I just can’t believe you’ve never been kissed.” She flinched a bit at his words. “I don’t mean it in that way. You shouldn’t be ashamed of never being kissed. Sometimes it happens early on, sometimes it doesn’t. If it wasn’t for my pledge, I don’t think I would have had my first kiss till last year.” He confessed. y/n looked at him with eyebrows that had a twist of disbelief in them.

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear,” Tom laughed, putting his hands up. “So really, no judgement here.” Then he leaned in to whisper into her ear, “and I definitely won’t mind breaking you in,” He couldn’t keep a straight face saying it, and neither could she. He had thought it would make her nervous or flushed, but she just slapped him on his arms teasingly.

“In your dreams, Holland.”

“Fuck, I hope so.” That made her freeze, just for a second though. “Shit, too much?” He asked, afraid he had finally taken it too far with his inappropriate humour.

“No, you’re good.” She took another sip of her hot chocolate, allowing Tom to do so as well.

“See, just because I’ve never been kissed, it immediately puts me under this label of being a prude or something, but I’m really not. I’ve just- had a really shitty love life.” Or just a complete lack of it.

“Well, I hope to change that.” He leaned in again and pecked her cheek. That finally got him the flushed reaction he had hoped for.

“You already did.”

_________________________________

Your hand moved up to your cheek, hovering above the area that he had kissed. You felt like an idiot, but with Tom, it didn’t even feel like a bad thing.

“We’ve known each other for less than two days, and I can already tell you, you’re way up there in the list of good dates.”

“Way up there? Give me stats.” He nudged on. You thought for a second.

“At least… top ten.”

“Top five? Oh C’mon, babe, I think I’m a bit better than that. Not to toot my own horn, of course.”

“Top five.” You said, ignoring the butterflies that had escaped in your stomach. He glared at you. You glared back, keeping your eyes on each other for another moment until he had dipped his finger in his hot chocolate and pressed it against your nose. You blinked in confusion.

“That just moved you down to number six.”

“Well, shit.” Tom leaned in and licked the whipped cream off your nose. As disgusting as it should have been, you burst into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in his chest to not disturb the rest of the restaurant. While you were trying to calm down, you felt Tom kiss the top of your head a few times.

Finally, you sat up again.

“Top three,” you stated. It was good enough for Tom. For now.

You drank the rest of your drinks in the best silence possible that could be kept as both of you kept laughing at each other. Finally, the mugs were empty. Tom paid for everything and let you take the lead to walk outside with the umbrella. When you opened the door, however, you saw that the storm had now passed over into a light drizzle. You kept the umbrella closed.

You were already letting yourself get taken up by the rain when Tom was outside. You thought he would come to join you, but he stayed under the little roof, watching you with a big smile.

“Not afraid of the rain, are you?” you asked. “Or are you made of sugar?”

“All I can say is, come and find out for yourself.” You were already a few steps away, so you hopped over to him, took his hand and took the final step, so you were touching chest to chest. His other hand found its way on your hip. You saw his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips. You smiled and pulled him in closer, making you take a step back and exposing him to the weather.

“Mutherfucker!” He gasped, not having expected that. “Ohh, you’re good.”

Before you knew what was happening, he had picked you up by the waist and spun you around. You squealed from surprise before the both of you started laughing again. Eventually, he had to put you back down again, and your eyes widened in horror when you saw him walk to a large puddle.

“No, Tom! No, no, no.!” He put you down right next to it. Probably an inch from the water edge.

“C’mon, I’m not that mean.” he pouted.

“Nah, you’re a softy,” you poked his cheek. He grabbed your hand.

“Oi, I wouldn’t go that far.” then kissed the tip of your index finger, which you had poked him with a second before.

“Too late, I guess.”

“You sure about that? You’re still really close to that puddle babe. We wouldn’t want any… accidents!” He gripped you by the waist again, and the sudden movement made you feel like he was gonna throw you down into the puddle. You shrieked but soon felt his arms still around you and no parts of your body were soaked (only moderately wet from the light rain) or on the ground. He was still holding you.

“You never answered me,” he said, his sweet laughter was gone, and his eyes were on your lips again.

“Answer what?” you kept looking at his face as a whole, taking in every detail. The way his nose scrunched when droplets of rain well on it. How one of his eyebrows was more bushy and irregular than the other. The dimple in his chin, his freckles- everything.

“If you wanted to kiss me.”

His golden-brown eyes were so warm, even in the dim street lights at night. His wet hair was sticking to his face, but framing it so nicely. His jaw was sharp, it didn’t seem like it should be real.

“I do.”

His lips. Though thin and a bit chapped, they still felt so soft. The sweet taste of chocolate, mixed in with the rain that had fallen in the few moments that you stood outside. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you in closer to him. It felt so good. So right.

You pulled away but with no idea how much time had gone by. His stands stayed in their position, his eyes searched yours for a reaction. Nothing came from it since you were still in an emotional daze.

Tom chuckled.

“Fuck, I should have slid into your DMs sooner.”

“Way to ruin the mood, Holland.”

“Oh, you love it.” He said before pulling you into another kiss.

The END

> song played in Le Moulin: Rendez-vous sous la pluie (Jean Sablon)

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them and let me know if you want to see more of this au cause i really enjoyed writing it :)

> if anyone has a comment about how it had only been a day since they met etc. i wrote this 15k story in the span of 24 hours. i wish i could have added more to it but at this point, i am physically and emotionally exhausted and do not want to make it even longer.

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96 @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @spiderrrling @captainpeggy40 @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker @chloecreatesfictions-archive @fallinfortom @bitchydecisions @okokimfreakingoutahh @cicicantblog @musicalkeys @joyleenl @multifandomdoodles121 @awkwardfangirl2014 @marvelouspeterparker

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #frat!au #fratboy tom #college!tom #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #stranger to lovers #college!au

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i-is-a-fan-weeb · 3 years

Text

first off:Happy Birthday Percy!! And second:thank you to @percydarling for giving me the inspo for my first fic here! So here we go(also i set this in Percy's fourth year so yea) also TW in the tags

Penny walked into the empty Great Hall and spotted Percy sitting at the end of what is normally the Slytherin table,reading on of his many books on mythology.

"Hi Percy! What mythology sre you reading today?" Penny plumped down next to Percy

"Chinese." Percy simply replied,not looking up.

Percy has always been into mythology,ever since his Uncle Gideon brought a book on Greek myths when he was 4 and Percy read it while Gideon,Fabion and Molly talked downstairs. After that,the onky thing Percy wanted for his birthday and Christmas was a book on Greek mythology,before he branched out to other mythologies and muggle religions when he was 10. Then he asked for books on any myths and religion(Arthur got him an actual Bible on his 11th).

This year,Penny,Oliver and Marcus were planning to do more than that.

"Ooo,Chinese. You're so lucky your parents let you read mythology and explore other religions at home." Penny always complained about not being able to read mythology at home because her parent were over-religious muggles and it took her mother everything to not have her father disown her for being a witch. Penny also wasn't allowed to visit or write any of her friends over breaks either.

Out of nowhere,Oliver and Marcus sat down across from Percy and Penny.

"Hey Perce." Oliver took one hand away from Percy's boom and kissed the knuckles. Then he took the book away from Percy.

"Hey!" Percy cried out,reaching for his book,but Oliver,whose much faster,managed to keep it away.

"Na-ahhh. You're not getting this back until we're done." Oliver said,closing the book shut(but not before taking Percy's bookmark and putting it in Percy's place in the book)

"Done with what?" Percy asked,narrowing his eyes at his friends(and boyfriend)

"We have sonething to ask you." Marcus said

"If it's about me being tiebraker for whatever Quidditch match is coming up,the answer will always be no." Percy said,slowly sitting back down.

"What? No. The next Quidditch match is in November." Oliver said increduosly

"We wanted to ask you if you're ok with surprises." Penny tiredly said,already done with Oliver.

"Huh?" Percy asked,confused by this.

"Are you ok with surprises?" Marcus questioned,bored.

"Um,yeah I guess. I live with Fred and George so I got used to surprises pretty early on." Percy suspiciously said.

"Cool." Marcus said,before getting up and leaving,Oliver and Penny following behind.

Percy looked after them confused,before leaving himself.

A week passes,and Oliver comes into his and Percy's dorm,with two random people.

"Hello Penny,Marcus." Percy greeted his friends who are under the influence of Polyjuice.

"Come on." the boy on the right-who is Marcus-said inpatiently.

"Wha-"Percy didn't even get to finish his sentence before the girl on the left-who is Penny-grabbed his arm and pulled him downstairs,followed by Marcus and Oliver.

"Where are we going?" Percy asked as he got dragged by Penny

"You'll see." Oliver whispered in ear teasingly,kissing his cheek.

"Can you save all that romantic sh!t for when you are alone?" Marcus asked.

"Oh shut up."Oliver said said

"All of you shut up!" Penny whisper-shouted,and ponted to Filch and Mrs.Norris up ahead of them.

"The h3ll are we doing?!" Percy whisper-shouted back.

"Shhhh!!" Penny shushed him,and threw out what Percy presumed to be a dungbomb at Filch and his cat.

The dungbomb exploded and Filch and the cat ran away,Filch yelling about who knows what,Mrs.Norris yowling.

"Ok,coast is clear." Penny gestured,and she,Percy(still being dragged by Penny),Oliver and Marcus went in the direction Filch was previously(covering their noses) and out the grand doors.

"Where are we going?" Percy choked out,struggling to get his inhalor out of his pocket*

"I said you'll see." Oliver offhandedly replied

The four of them were walking out towards...Hogsmead?

"Why are we going towards Hogsmead? It's not even close to December!" Percy asked Penny,who didn't give him an answer.

Penny stopped outside of the Three Broomsticks,the Polyjuice finally worn off.

Penny dragged them inside(but not after Marcus took another small dose of Polyjuice).

"Hello,Madame Rosemerta!" Penny gleefully greeted

"Hello,youngsters. Your room is ready,and so are your guests." Madame Rosemerta said,vaguely gestering upstairs,before retreatingto the back room.

"What does she mean by that?" Percy asked,fed up with them keeping these secrets. No one gave him an answer,instead they went upstairs and went all the way down the hall to the very last room.

Marcus went up,the Polyjuice now officially worn off,and knocked some sort of special code.

A little boy with light brown hair and big brown eyes opened the door.

"Hey! We've been waiting!" Cedric Diggory held the door open,and Percy saw birthday decorations,a cake on the table in the middle and a bunch of presents in a corner.

"W-what?" Percy asked quietly.

Penny,Marcus,and Oliver went up and joined Cedric and Adrien Pucey around the table,and they alk started singing "Happy Birthday".

Percy just stood there amazed and confused.

"But-but it's not my birthday?" Percy dazedly said

"We know its not you birthday,which is why we did this!" Adrien said

"We wanted to do something for you because we can't celebrate with you." Cedric said excitedly

"So,you all snuck out of the castle and risked getting expelled,for 𝘮𝘦?" Percy asked

"You act as if we haven't done it before." Marcus snorted

"Yeah,but that's different. Penny and I know which rules to break and how to break them. This is breaking who know how many rules,and Cedric is only a First year,he can't get expelled already." Percy protested.

"Just sit your cute a$$ down and eat some cake." Oliver grabbed Percy by the wrist and sat him down around the table.

"Madame Rosemerta said she'll cover us,as long as we pay for the Butterbeer." Cedric said

"What about this room?" Percy asked

"Madame Rosemerta said we could use it anytine we wanted,no charge unless we damage something." Penny said

"So you and lover boy over here can do what you want behind closed doors." Marcus added

"We have a dorn for that." Oliver countered

"Ew!" Adrien and Cedric exclaimed at the same time

"This is a private room Percy,no one except us and whoever we want to invite can come in." Penny quickly explained

"So,this is some sort of late birthday treat-for me?" Percy asksd quietly

"Yes for you." Oliver said,kissing his boyfriends cheeks

"Can you not do that while I'm here?" Adrien asked,while Cedric stuck out his toungue in disgust.Oliver rolled his eyes.

All of them had a good time eating cake and drinking Butterbeer.

"Here." Oliver handed a gift to Percy.

"What is it?" Percy asked after opening thebpresent which turned out to be a sort of old book.

"It's a Qu'ran. It's another muggle religion book." Oliver explained. Percy's pale,icy blue orbs widened in excitement,almost childlike.

"Here! Here's mine!" Pennt excitedly gave Percy another book-shaped present. Percy opened it,and it turned out to be a empty notebook,with a dark purple cover.

"I put a charm on it,so we can all communicate without having to tire our owls! And I can talk to you all over breaks!" Penny was practically jumping on the tips of her toes in excitement

"Perfect!" Percy exclaimed,and looked up to see everyone pulled out colorful notebooks;Marcus had a dark red,Oliver's was bright green,Penny's was a cheerful yellow,Adrien's was a deep pink and Cedric's was a dark blue.

Percy opened up the rest of the presents-Marcus got him two books,one on how to get away with mûrd3r and the other on how to hide a body.Cedric got him a book on how to speak Latin,a book on how to speek Greek and a book on Russian folklore. Adrien had gotten him a book on Italian myths and superstitions.

"Thank you. Thank you guys so much."

"Don't mention it." Marcus wrapped his arm around Percy,giving the ginger a small grin.

"No,seriously don't mention this to anyone. We can't let the whole castle know that us Slytherins are hanging out with the all of you." Adrien said in a serious yet still sad tone.

"And Fred and George would go the extra 10 miles to make Percy's life even more miserable than the already do." Oliver said grimly

"Enough of this sadness! It's Percy's late birthday and we are going to celebrate it happily!" Penny stomped.

Everyone murmered their agreements and went back to celebrating Percy.

They stayed for another hour before they decided to leave.

As Cedric and Adrien downstairs,Oliver,Percy,Penny and Marcus stayed behind.

"Soo,you wanna do a slumber party?" Marcus asked

"Ok!" Percy exclaimed giddily.

"Who's turn is it?" Penny asked.

"I think it our turn." Oliver gestured to him and Percy

"Ok." Marcus said simply and went downstairs,Penny following him. Leaving Percy and Oliver alone.

"We should-" Percy was cut off by Oliver smashing his lips onto Percys. Percy was at first in shock,but quckly melted into the kiss. The two boys stayed like that for what felt like forever before Oliver slowly pulles away,not really wanting to let go.

"Happy birthday,Percy." Oliver said,putting his face into the taller boys chest.

"Thank you." Percy murmered into the Keepers soft,brown hair.

"Ahem." Oliver and Percy quickly jumped away from each other at the sudden sound,but relaxed when it was only Madame Rosemerta leaning against the doorframe.

"I know you two have hormones and stuff,but please not in my private rooms." She said

Both boys muttered their apologies and quickly walked out

"You forgot your presents!" Madame Rosemerta called out. Oliver quickly ran back up the stairs and ran back down with Percy's gifts.

"Thank you for letting us use this room!" Percy called up to Madame Rosemerta

"Of course! I know what it's like having to hide a relationship!" Rosemerta called down from inside the room.

Percy and Okiver walked the rest of the way back down the stairs and met Penny and Marcus outside.

"What did you think,Perce?" Penny asked,now her and Marcus back to their Polyjuice forms.

"It was great. Honestly,thank you." Percy said gratefully.

"No problem. We know ever since Fred and George took the spotlight,your birthday has been forgotten about." Marcus said grimly.

"What did I say about sadness today!" Penny stomped her foot angrily in the ground.

The four walked back to the castle in a comfortabke silence,snuck back in with no problems and manage to get into Gryffindor tower with out a hitch.

"Here." Percy handed Penny and Marcus some spare pajamas that they all kept in their dorms for whenevr they have sleepovers.

After Penny and Marcus changed and brought out the blow-up matresses that they also keep in their dorms,they all stayed up late and talked and ate some junk food and got drunk off of Firewhisky and Brandy that their House Elf friend Dottie had brought. They stayed up and laughed and had a great time. They all eventually fell asleep at different times(Marcus being the lightweight he is fell asleep first).

Percy will never forget that day.

*Ok so i headcannon Percy to have allergic asthma(if u dont know what that is look it up,i aint google) and that he has like a crap ton of allergies bc who else doesnt like torturing their comfort character? Also before anyone asks,i do have a headcannon that a student that was way before Molly and Arthurs time,much less Percys,also had asthma but couldnt bring her inhalor bc it was muggle technology,so she petitioned for muggle health devices be allowed into hogwarts,and evetually they were allowed but only for health purposes. Im not telling you who that student is tho hehe.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY WEASLEY! And once again thanks to @percydarling for giving me this suggestion!

#harry potter #percy weasley x oliver wood #percy weasley #happy birthday percy weasley #cedric diggory #adrien pucey #penny clearwater #penelope clearwater #marcus flint #madame rosemerta #the three broomsticks #perciver #my first fic on here!!#not my first fic ever but my first fic here on tumblr dot com!!

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leiakenobi · 2 years

Note

“Your moans will wake everyone up and I’m oddly fine with that.” & damerey ? (or just poe)

I did end up writing this one as Damerey, and it clocked in at a whopping 1.2k so i ended up cross-posting it to AO3 here, but you'll be able to read the whole fic under the read more if you prefer.

Light mature rating on this one, so I request 18+ readers only pls.

——

It was not the sort of thing either of them would normally think to do—fool around on a mission. Even when afforded all the privacy imaginable, even when they were absolutely certain that they had hours to wait for any moves, and thus plenty of time to devote to more… diverting activities.

Even then, they were normally inclined to resist.

But they’d just spent an evening at some stuffy event, trying to ease the lingering tensions between two neighboring provinces that had very different ideas about what their planet needed after the fall of the First Order. It was exhausting, and a pain in the ass, but they had admittedly had a fair amount of fun, eating strange new foods and dancing and meeting all sorts of new people, most of whom were thrilled about an opportunity to bend the ears of the heroes of the Resistance.

And Maker, Poe had looked unbearably handsome the whole time, and from the way he met Rey’s eyes across the party more than once, he knew that she was thinking so.

They’d been good, though. They had done nothing about it, returning to their suite with the rest of their team and frankly too exhausted to think of acting on the thoughts swirling around both of their heads. Honestly, they were too exhausted to properly get ready for bed at all. When they closed themselves away in their room, Poe shed his jacket but little else, falling into bed and murmuring to Rey, “Lemme hold you for a minute.”

Within five minutes, they were asleep, one of the dim lights still on and the covers still neatly tucked into the bed beneath them.

So they found themselves when the sun began to peek through the window, coaxing Rey out of her slumber as the light shone through her eyelids. She groaned as she leaned her head instinctively out of the path of the sunlight, only to come into immediate contact with Poe’s shoulder. His arm, which was wrapped loosely at her stomach, gripped her a little tighter at once as he also began to shift.

“What was that for?” he muttered.

“Too sunny,” Rey replied. She rolled over onto her other side, burrowing her face into his chest and sighing softly when he held her more firmly.

As his hand dug into her back, Poe seemed to realize that something was amiss. “Why’re you still dressed?”

“‘m not the only one.”

Poe lifted his head and opened his eyes for the first time, blearily taking a look at them sprawled across the bed in their formalwear. “What’d we do that for?”

Rey knew Poe. She knew how unlikely it was for him to get back to sleep once his mind was running. And she could feel it, in that question, that he’d already passed the point of no return, even if his voice was still creaky with sleep.

So she resigned herself and repositioned once more, scooting up in bed so she could look Poe in the eye. “You might recall someone said we were only going to cuddle for a minute.”

“That someone is an idiot,” Poe retorted.

Rey could see from the way his eyes were shining that he knew all too well it was his fault, so she couldn’t help but smile. Over his playful gaze, and over the mess of him, too—his hair unkempt from sleep, his dress shirt only half-buttoned, and a healthy smattering of stubble across his cheeks.

Looking at the mess that was Poe Dameron, she replied, “But a very handsome idiot.”

He pursed his lips, amused but reluctant to agree and truly cede recognition that their situation was his responsibility, even if there was no problem with it and no reason to be ashamed.

Frankly, it was the inanity that made him want to be playfully cagey about the whole thing, and she knew it. She was even endeared by it, enough so that she leaned in for what was only meant to be a chaste, pleasant sort of kiss. A you’re ridiculous but I love you sort of kiss.

But again. It had been an exhilarating evening, and they’d been unable to keep their eyes off each other. And so, when her lips found his, it was as though a dam broke.

Their hands were everywhere all at once, not frantic, precisely – they were rarely frantic – but certainly eager. Eager to touch and to be touched. Poe, clutching at the fabric of her gown, mumbled, “Never thought I’d miss all those pieces of your tunic.”

“It’s a lot easier to find some way under them,” she agreed.

As though to make her point, her own hands trailed over the bare skin of his chest, so conveniently accessible beneath his shirt (which she’d unbuttoned but had not bothered to slide from his shoulders quite yet).

Her light touch made Poe smile against her lips, until her fingers traced over his stomach and strayed into his pants.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he gasped, pulling out of their kiss.

Not pulling out of Rey’s touch, she noticed at once. That felt important.

Still. She ventured no further, her hand splayed out across his pelvis as she asked, “You don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that,” Poe said carefully. He licked his lips, drawing Rey’s eyes to his mouth at once although he did not intend to. “We just… we may have this room to ourselves, but we’re not the only ones in this suite. And it’s… we’ve been gone for almost two weeks.”

Almost two weeks of only gentle kisses and innocent hand-holding. Poe didn’t say so, but Rey suspected this point was meant to be something along the lines of he wasn’t sure how quiet he would be.

So she nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“Two whole weeks,” Poe added, his tone a little more emphatic.

Rey’s expression shifted, her brow furrowing. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was trying to talk himself into it. “Maybe you’d be able to keep quieter than you think,” she offered.

“Maybe,” Poe agreed. He seemed less than convinced, at least about his own ability to keep his noise to a minimum.

But he kissed Rey once more and reached down, guiding her hand further into his pants.

It was almost immediately clear that he would not be able to stay quiet, not really. Rey palming him through his underpants was enough to make him whimper, and when she touched him, skin to skin, he moaned at once—Rey swallowed the sound eagerly, mouth open to him and chasing his tongue while his stubble slotted coarse against her cheek.

And then she pulled away, just long enough to say, “Your moans will wake everyone up and I’m oddly fine with that.”

Poe rolled his eyes, even as his lips quirked up. “So they’ll be nice and alert to hear you scream when it’s your turn.”

“I don’t scream,” Rey muttered.

He was on the brink of arguing, she could see it, until she moved her hand just so and made him moan again.

They were too busy kissing to argue about precisely what noises they made, after that.

#damerey #jedipilot #fanfic #my fic #created #prompt fill

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sfb123 · 3 years

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Sapere Aude - Part 7

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 2,670

Notes: Sorry. I’ve been on a pretty good once a week schedule, but this one is a little more delayed. I had a lot going on this week, so I didn’t have a chance to get it up. But here it is, I hope you find it worth the wait!

Shout out to my pre-reading possy, @texaskitten30 and @txemrn, and @twinkleallnight for my moodboard!

Tags: Do tags even actually do anything anymore? Who knows, but in case they do, they’re added below and also in the comments. Maybe that will help at least a couple of you get them. If you want to be added or removed, just let me know.

Riley paced back and forth in her bedroom, mind reeling from her meeting with Eleanor. It was bad enough that she was going to have to tell Liam that his mother was alive, but now she would have to tell him that the guard they were trusting with their daughter’s life was actually his brother. She was certain, no matter how stoic and level headed her husband was, this news was going to break him. Riley would just need to make sure that he kept his cool outside of the sanctuary of their quarters.

Her train of thought was broken when she heard a knocking at her door. “Come in.” She smiled as Drake entered the room. “Hey, when you left you had my kid with you. Don’t tell me you left her out in the woods to fend for herself a la some weird Walker wilderness test.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “Very funny. She fell asleep on the way back, so I just dropped her off in her room. I wanted to come in and see how things went with you.”

She sighed and sat on the bench at the end of her bed, patting the empty seat next to her. “You’re going to want to sit down for this one, big guy.” Drake had known Liam his whole life, maybe he could help her figure out the best way to tell him about his mother, and now brother. But she had to tell him about his father first. “I learned a lot more in this meeting, and literally none of it was good.”

He put a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders. “Ok, do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help you come up with the best way to tell Liam.”

“Well yea, I’m going to need a lot of help with that, like a lot a lot of help, but there’s something you need to know too.”

She looked up at him with so much sadness in her eyes that Drake felt overwhelmed. He pulled her into a tight hug. “Hey, it’s ok Brooks, whatever it is, I can take it. Just let me have it.”

“Your dad was one of them, he was working with Eleanor. They were partners.” Her voice was muffled against Drake’s chest, but he was able to hear every word she said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to be there for his friend right now, but this was also a huge blow to everything he had ever known or believed about his father.

“Wait, he was working against Constantine?” He pulled out of the hug and rubbed his hand over his face, letting the information fully sink in. “But he was his lead guard, he saved his life. More than once.”

“I know. He wasn’t technically against Constantnine, and I guess technically he did die protecting him.”

“What do you mean?” There was a hopeful sadness in Drake’s voice.

“Well, Eleanor said that your dad didn’t agree with the plans to overthrow Constantine, so the assasination attempt that took his life was actually meant for him.” Riley was so upset that she didn’t even realize what she had said.

Drake didn’t catch it at first either, still trying to process the information about his dad, but once it hit him, he looked over to Riley, utterly confused. “Wait, who said that? Eleanor who?”

Riley’s eyes immediately fell to the floor. “Yea...that’s kind of one of the other things. The meeting I had today was with Eleanor, Liam’s mother. She didn’t actually die, she went into hiding.” The tears she had been holding back all day finally started to flow.

“Holy shit Brooks, way to bury the lead. Liam’s mother is alive? You met with her? She was here?”

“She’s...she’s in charge of the Via Imperii in Cordonia. What the hell am I supposed to tell Liam? This is going to kill him.” Riley began sobbing into her hands.

“Hey, shh shh shh, come here.” He pulled Riley back into his arms, gently stroking her back. “This is major. It’s going to be a big blow for Liam, but he has you to help him get through it. You guys have been through hell and back, you’ll get through this too.”

They stayed like that for a while, Riley needed to get all of her emotions out. Drake knew this, and just stayed there to be the comforting friend that she needed in that moment. He had to come to terms with his dad, and he would, but the news he got was nothing compared to the devastation his best friend, his brother, was about to receive.

Riley was able to finally calm herself down. She pulled away from Drake, wiping the lingering tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry Drake, I didn’t mean to break down on you like that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Brooks. You needed to get it out. You need to empty the tank before you bring this to Liam…”

“There’s more.” She interrupted him.

“I’m afraid to ask, but we’ve already come this far.”

“Remember when I was pregnant, and we found out all that information about Eleanor, and how she was pregnant when she…” Riley trailed off.

“Fuck. That’s right. Liam has a sibling out there somewhere.” Drake ran his hand through his hair.

“Not somewhere. In the palace, guarding Eleanor.”

“Thomas?” Drake and Thomas were friendly, Drake was friendly with most of the guards. He couldn’t believe that this whole time, he had been talking to Liam’s brother. “Does he know that he’s...that he and Liam are brothers?”

Riley nodded. “He does. Eleanor said that when he learned that he was a Rys, he wanted to be close to his family, and do what he could to keep them safe. That’s how he ended up assigned to the King’s Guard.”

Drake stood and walked over to the fireplace, watching the flames dance as he shook his head. “This is unbelievable. His mother is alive, and he’s had another brother this whole time.” As he came to another realization, he snapped his head back to look at Riley. “Is Thomas his full brother? Like Constantine is his dad too?”

Riley nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “Full brother. Constantine had three sons.”

“That means he’s a Prince too. What if he tries to get Liam out to put himself in place?”

“That can’t happen. Eleanor, my Eleanor, is the heir. Liam is the reigning King, so his child would be next in line for the throne…” She paused, taking a deep breath, not wanting to put her next thought into the universe, but it needed to be said. “If anything happened to him, Eleanor would be next in line, and as her parent and legal guardian, I would be Queen Regent, so I would rule until she became of age. They’ve already tried, and failed, to take her away from us once. I don’t think they would do that again.”

“Right, Barthelemy. Jesus, all of our parents sucked. Barthelemy, Eleanor, my dad, Olivia’s parents. Constantine wasn’t exactly in the running for father of the year. You and Hana are the only ones that really lucked out.”

Riley let out a humorless chuckle. “Heh, who would have thought, after everything we’ve gone through, Hana’s overbearing, controlling, parents would have been considered the normal ones.” She walked up to Drake and linked her arm through his. “Drake, your dad was a good guy, he just got caught up with the wrong group. He really did die trying to save the King, just not in the way we thought he did.”

“Yea, I guess.”

“And you know what?” She grabbed both of his shoulders, turning him to look her in the eyes. “For as shitty as you guys’ parents were, they made some pretty great humans. You, Savannah, Maxwell, Bertrand, Liam, even Leo.” Throwing Leo in there like that got a chuckle out of Drake, which is exactly what she was hoping for. “You guys are some of the most amazing, selfless, caring people I have ever met, and I am truly honored that you all are my family.” She pulled him in for a hug.

“Alright, that was a pretty good pep-talk. But when you give it to Liam, make sure you mention him first.” They both laughed as they separated.

“Thanks for the note. I’ll be sure to punch it up before I talk to him.” She smirked at him. “I should go check on Eleanor. Are you going to be ok?”

“Yea, I’ll be alright. I’m more worried about Liam to be honest. Do you want me to be there when you tell him?”

“No, I think this is something he and I need to handle one on one. But I love the concern. See what I mean, amazing human.” She made finger guns and pointed them at Drake.

“Alright, alright. Well, I was going to head up to Ramsford tomorrow, after we get back. I could take Eleanor with me, she and Bartie could have a slumber party, and you and Liam can have plenty of time to talk.”

“Drake, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve basically spent the whole weekend with her. I’ve already imposed too much.”

“It’s not imposing if I’m offering. I know Liam, he’s going to need time to just deal. He’s not going to be able to do that if you guys have to be in parent mode. It’s no trouble, really.”

Riley was overwhelmed by the generosity of her friend. He had just received news that completely destroyed the image he had of his father, his hero, and his first instinct was to do whatever he could to make things easier for her and Liam. Without saying a word she barreled toward him, the force of her body hitting him knocked him off balance slightly, as she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Number one best friend of life. No question.”

“Alright slugger, take it down a notch. Go get your kid, I’m going to go back to my room and relax for a bit. Come get me for dinner?”

Riley nodded as they exited her room and took off down different ends of the hallway.

The next day, Riley Drake and Eleanor were in the SUV on their way back to the palace. It had been another sleepless night for Riley, trying to work out exactly what she was going to say to Liam. She came up empty. She was just going to have to wing it. They would have a couple of hours together as a family before Drake brought Eleanor to Ramsford, then she would completely devastate her husband.

“Mommy?” Eleanor spoke up, pulling Riley from her thoughts.

“Yes baby girl?”

“Are you and daddy going to come play with me and Bartie?”

“No Eleanor, not this time. Mommy and daddy have some grown up stuff we need to do.” She reached across the seat and held her daughters hands.

“Ew are you and daddy going to kiss?” Eleanor scrunched up her face, causing Drake to choke on the sip of water he had just taken.

Riley burst out laughing at the comment. “No baby, no kissing.”

“Can I play with daddy first? I miss him!”

“Of course. Uncle Drake is going to go home first, and then he’ll be back to pick you up after dinner.” She kissed Eleanor’s hand.

As they pulled into the palace, Riley’s breath caught in her throat seeing Liam waiting for them in the front. Whenever they spent a night apart, they made it a tradition that whoever got home first would wait for the other out front. This was the first time she had ever hated that tradition. She wished she had a little more time to compose herself before seeing him.

Drake noticed the panic flash across her face and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’ve got this, Brooks. Deep breaths.”

She nodded as the car came to a stop. She took a couple of deep breaths to compose herself as her door opened. Drake worked to unbuckle Eleanor on the other side of the car.

“Riley, my queen. I’ve missed you.”

The tears immediately started to well up in her eyes. “Liam.” She jumped out of the car, and into her husband’s arms. “I love you, I love you so much.”

He held her close, rubbing her back in soothing circles and kissing her on the crown of her head. “I know, Riley. I love you too. It will be ok, we’re together now. Everything is going to be ok.”

“Daddy!” Their reunion was interrupted as Eleanor ran full force into her parents to join their hug.

Liam pulled back, giving Riley a brief kiss and a wink before diverting his attention to his daughter. “Welcome home, princess.” He lifted Eleanor into his arms.

“Uncle Drake took me fishing. I caught the biggest fish!”

“You did? I’m very proud of you.” He kissed her cheek.

“For the record, it was the only fish.” Drake emerged from the other side of the car, sticking his tongue out at Eleanor, she returned the gesture.

“That’s alright, going fishing with Uncle Drake and catching the only fish is still a very big accomplishment.” Liam placed Eleanor back on the ground and extended his other hand out to shake Drake’s. “Thank you for taking care of my girls for me this weekend Drake.”

“For this one,” he signaled down to Eleanor, “anytime. This one,” he nudged Riley, “not so much.”

Riley rolled her eyes and punched him in the shoulder. Liam chuckled, with everything he knew Riley had to endure this weekend, it made him happy to see her joking around, even if it were just for a moment.

“Daddy, Uncle Drake is going to take me with him for a slumber party with Bartie tonight! It’s going to be so much fun!” Eleanor tugged on Liam’s pant leg to get his attention.

He crouched down to meet her face to face. “Really? You just got home and you’re already leaving me again?” He gave her an exaggerated pout, she responded by placing her hands on either side of his face and kissing his nose. “I’m sorry daddy, mommy said you had grown up stuff to do. Maybe if you say please, she will let you come with me. I bet it will be more fun than the grown up stuff.”

Riley sighed as Liam turned and faced her. “I’m sorry Liam, I know you haven’t seen her all weekend, but Drake offered to bring her with him to Ramsford. And the stuff we need to catch up on will be a lot easier to go over if it’s just us.” There was a seriousness in her expression, Liam understood that she didn’t mean the usual catching up they did when they had been separated for a few days.

“No, of course.” He turned to Drake. “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you? I would like to spend some time catching up with Eleanor before she leaves again.”

“Nah you’ve got time. I’m going to head back to my place, I’ve got a few things for Bartie that I’m going to bring with me. I’ll be by after dinner to pick her up.” He clapped Liam on the shoulder. Liam nodded as a silent thank you to his friend.

As Drake walked to his truck, Liam took Eleanor’s hand in his, and wrapped his other arm around Riley. “Alright then, let’s go make up for lost time. Eleanor, I want to hear all about your weekend. Don’t leave a single detail out.”

They walked into the palace and up to their quarters. Liam and Riley were both dreading the conversation that would come later that night, but silently vowed to forget about those feelings, so they could enjoy time as a family.

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou @imturaxamara @gabesmommie1130 @cordoniaqueensworld

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captaincravatthecapricious · 3 years

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Can’t Get Up- Prompt Fill

See I told you I did both! Cw dizziness, fainting, fever, head injuries, and canon typical being mean to Jon

Send me more prompts! (Bingo card by @celosiaa) The ones with stars are the ones I already have prompts for, the crossed out ones are the ones I have posted! Send me a character, a prompt, and tell me if you want an art or a fic!!!!!!

This one makes a Lot more sense if you read Too Much by @janekfan first, but do as you will, I think it can also stand alone.

The lingering fever left over from Jon’s (to Martin’s and Tim’s lack of information: mysterious and) hellish few days continued to do just that... linger.

Burned and bruised. Concussed and dizzy.

The fever was never overly dangerous, but it sapped Jon’s already basically nonexistent reserve of energy. And it just... lingered. Lingers.

It's better now that Tim and Jon had some sort of talk, but neither of them really know how they stand with the other.

Well, it is better for Jon because he has two people who give a shit if he collapses in the hall now. And better for Martin because one less person is going to actively try to hurt Jon. And better for Tim because he’s missed his friend. But it’s still awkward.

Tim watches Jon drag himself from the cot another morning. It was Tim that stayed with him last night, Martin's turn tonight. Jon is scared and confused and shouldn't be left alone. Not when he screams himself awake every couple hours. Not when gets so dizzy that he loses track of what he is meant to be doing.

Jon has been trying to push through. Trying to work. To make himself useful. To help save the world. To work himself into the ground so he doesn't think about how shitty everything has been for him.

Tim watches him drag himself up, and crumple right back down again. Tim managing to break his fall. Again. He should text Martin. He does text Martin.

Jon blinks up fuzzily at him after just a few seconds.

"Sorry," Jon slurs.

"Stop that," Tim says, not unkindly. Still trying to remember how to be kind with this fragile little man.

"I need... 'Sira need me to... I should get up." Jon is still struggling for words, eyes slipping closed, making no move to push himself from Tim's chest, where Tim has been pillowing him.

Jon might be asleep again. It's hard to tell. Tim presses a hand to Jon's forehead, confirming it still too warm, but not worse, and returns to his seemingly endless playing with Jon's hair.

It is still a bit before hours, so he doesn't expect Martin to appear the next moment, more like in the next half hour, depending on the crowds and the tube. But, when he hears footsteps approaching he feels relief, until he realizes those aren't Martin's footsteps. Too sharp. Still heavy, bit not heavy enough. Jon did mention needing to get something to Basira.

No one has... talked to Tim about his ....calling it a change of heart sounds stupid. He isn't going to call it that. He didn't have a change of heart, per se. He just realized he had his head up his ass and was honestly just as bad as Jon in some ways. Not to mention, he couldn't keep blaming Jon when Jon was basically just an unlucky punching bag, now with the added flavor or concussed and feverish.

"Right," says Basira, pushing open the door after a single, sharp knock. Pulling Jon from his uneasy sleep.

He scrambles upright. Too fast, sending him into a swoon for the second time in just a few minutes.

"Did you find those files? I need them if we want to actually stop the circus, and not just have a slumber party." There is clearly judgement in her eyes.

Tim, who caught Jon for the second time this morning, has an arm around him protectively.

Jon is coming around again. "Mmm wh'?" He forces his eyes open against the light Basira flipped on upon her entrance, eyes crossing as he tries to bring Basira into focus.

"Jon, look. We really don't have time for... whatever this is. Just get up and do something useful or just leave. And leave the rest of us to clean up this mess." It isn't that she is outright mean. Not like Daisy. Not hostile like Melanie. But cold. Which.... Tim shouldn't begrudge her for, but he wants to. Was she there when Jon was beaten? Tim's seen those bruises. Still dark and angry. Jon still cries out when handled roughly, or when handled gently but not gently enough.

Was she there? Was she complicit in this mess? And if she was... if she watched Jon get beaten by her partner. If she was one of the faces that stood over Jon while he dug a grave... and just waltzed back in here demanding Jon to help. Jon who can't even stay conscious... Who has been feverish and incoherent...

Who is she to do that?

Footsteps.

Martin.

Good. Tim doesn't know what to do. His instinct is to protect. To push away. To fight. But can he trust that instinct? When that's what he accused Jon of doing? What he, himself had done?

"Morning Basira, do you think I can get through? Jon's been a bit poorly and I rather doubt you looming over him is going to help."

Martin. God bless Martin.

She scowls but stands aside.

Martin, studiously ignores her.

Tim would rather like to kiss him.

Jon is still having trouble following the conversation. But he visibly brightens when Martin steps into view. Martin checks his temperature with the inside of his wrist. He tuts gently at Jon, who still seems too dizzy to sit up on his own.

"So...?" Basira. Reminding the three of them that she is, in fact there.

"Sorry," mumbles Jon, still barely coherent, and certainly not aware of what he was apologizing for this time. A reflex that makes Tim shudder.

"I'll do it myself." She turns on her heal and leaves. Shutting the door a bit too hardly, and Jon flinches.

"Hey, Jon. How are you feeling?" Tim scoots over as gently as he can so as not to jostle Jon too much. He makes room for Martin next to them.

Jon's eyes flicker closed again. Tim isn't sure if he's lost consciousness again or if he's just closed his eyes against the dizziness.

Martin watches with worry etched on is face. "How's he doing?"

Tim pulls a face. "Not worse, I don't think... but not better. Still getting nightmares. But he's passed out on me twice, though. Not sure what to do about that. Could be the vertigo, could be a panic response, could be the fever, hell it could be dehydration or hunger. We haven't gotten much food in him." Tim yawns. It has been a painfully long few days. And he's only gotten the chance to sleep every other night.

"Maybe... one of us should take him home?" Martin has lost some of that self confidence that he managed to put up around Basira. Probably because Tim know's Martin's flat wouldn't be comfortable for two or three people. Probably because Martin isn't sure just how far Tim is willing to be put out on Jon's behalf.

Then again. It is a bit too late not to be involved. Because Jon cannot seem to get up without passing out and so Tim has just been cuddling him for hours.

"I can take him to mine. I have more space." He offers a tired smile, sparing Martin the halting questions, and Tim the hurt of knowing he isn't fully trusted anymore. Not that he blames Martin for that. He made his bed, now he'll lay in it. Shit, did he make his bed? Well they are about to find out. "You call a cab, I'll see if I can wake him?"

Martin nods, and makes to do that. Exiting the room to spare Jon the extra volume.

"Hey Jon?" Tim runs his free hand through Jon's hair for a few moments. Watching Jon's eyes slowly flicker open.

"Mmmmm." Jon's bandaged hands holding on to his shirt. Too-warm forehead pressed against his chest.

"Is it alright if I take you home?"

"What 'bout work?" Jon's mouth barely able to form the words. Can't see straight enough to read anything.

"Bud, how exactly did you plan to do any work?"

Jon tries to focus his eyes. And his words. He only manages to squint slightly.

"We tried letting you work, but you aren't getting better, how about you take a couple days to get better, then you can come back and we can save the world? Besides. Shouldn't do work with a concussion. Don't want brain damage, do you?" Tim starts slowly easing Jon upright, only to have Jon's eyes roll back. Again. "Shit!"

"You both okay?" Martin's back. Good. Tim doesn't know what to do.

"Well I woke him up, but when I tried sitting him up, he fainted on me again."

Martin tuts again, and sits back next to them to check on Jon for himself. "Maybe we should move him while he's out to spare him the trip. The cab will be here soon."

Tim shrugs and slowly gets to his feet. Maneuvering Jon into a bridal carry as he does so. "Now we just gotta make sure that the cabbie doesn't think we are kidnapping him."

Matin flutters around, wanting to make sure the position will be comfortable enough for Jon when he eventually comes around. "It'll be fine. He should be conscious by then."

"Yeah and what do we say, our boss had a bit too much to drink at..." He searches for the wall clock. "9:30 in the morning."

"We say we're from the Magnus Institute, and they will ignore everything about us, Tim."

Tim... still needs to get used to this side of Martin. He kind of loves it when the bitterness isn't aimed at him.

Jon comes around again and they pass the others in the bullpen, clinging tightly to Tim's shirt until the sudden change of level of the stairs makes him dizzier and his head ache, if the small, fragile sounds he is making are any indication.

Martin is right. The cabbie doesn't a single question once he sees the building they are standing in front of.

Martin makes tea. Tim makes soup. And Jon is tucked tightly in Tim's bed for the first time in over a year.

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scraregenrecs · 3 years

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Rec Roundup – February 2021 #1

Welcome to our first rec roundup for February 2021! Below is a collection of fics that feature different pairings and characters that could all use a little extra love. There's an assortment of platonic, gen, and romantic fics, and the content ranges from fluffy to sexy to angsty and everywhere in between.

Note that because @scseason7 is actively posting right now and the fics from that fest are currently anon, we will be waiting until the end of the month to rec fics from the fest so that we can properly credit the authors for their work.

Without further ado, check out this installment's fics! Don't forget to kudos and comment if you enjoy what you see!

Broken Trust by @ladyflowdi, The Roses, M, 5773 words Summary: Time is an adult’s construct, so it may be the beginning of autumn, or October, or maybe December, when David gets sick. Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I’ll start this off by reiterating the author’s note to make sure you read the tags before diving into this fic, but it is ABSOLUTELY worth it. Young David’s narrative voice is wonderfully done, and the story is told with care and beauty.

hold you close (and won't let go) by @languageoflove, Stevie/Ruth, T, 576 works Summary: Stevie has a rough day, so Ruth does what any good girlfriend would and comforts her, but the tables end up turning. Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is a cute look at a quiet moment in Stevie and Ruth's relationship. I like when fics don't shy away from exploring the not-so-happy moments in relationships, both romantic and platonic, and show us how different people come together to resolve disagreements.

I'm a Hieroglyphic, I'm an Open Book by @lilythesilly, Alexis/Twyla, G, 1442 words Summary: Alexis is leaving in a week. She’s moving to New York to be a girl boss and everything she’s ever wanted. But she told Twyla that she loves music. Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is such a fun first entry into the Twylexis fandom! Not only does it have sweetness in spades, it also spends some time exploring Patrick and Twyla's friendship (another rare pair in itself!). This fic fits neatly into the world of canon and could easily have played out on our screens.

The Inn at Clear Lake by @patrickredactedbrewer tedbrewer, Patrick & Rachel, T, 693 words Rec [written by doingthemost]: Please check the tags before you read the summary or fic! That said, this is a frank and affecting look at something that can be difficult to explore and read. If you've been affected by this, whether directly or indirectly, it may be as cathartic for you as it was for me.

Just to Have You Once Again, by @fairmanor, Clint/Marcy, G, 6765 words Summary: Marcy and Clint's love story, as interpreted by [fairmanor]. Rec [written by samwhambam]: LISTEN UP FRIENDS. This fic is PERFECTION. It has everything, a bit of a slow burn, enemies to lovers. PEOPLE WHO ARE MEANT TO BE TOGETHER. When reading it, you forget that the Brewers only had 10 minutes of screen time. You get such a strong sense of them and who they are, and you really fall in love with them. I love it so much and have reread it multiple times.

A Little Less Alone by @neelyo67, Ronnie & Moira, G, 941 words Summary: When Ronnie needs a place to spend the night Moira invites her to stay at the motel. It's a platonic slumber party!!!! Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: This is one of those ‘I never knew I needed this until I had it’ fics. Moira’s voice is PERFECTION, and Ronnie’s particular flavour of slightly reluctant love for Moira from canon really shines through here.

She’s all over me by @samwhambam, Stevie/Twyla, E, 3840 words Summary: Stevie invites Twyla over for ~fun times~. Part 2 of the "Stevie runs into Twyla at Jake's massage circle" fic. Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I recommended part one of this series last time and WHOO BOY does part two live up to its predecessor. This series continues to be tender, realistically awkward, and above all hot as hell.

Something to Celebrate, by @agoodpersonrose, Stevie & Ronnie and Stevie/Twyla (background), Gen, 1150 words Summary: “This is something to celebrate, you know?” she says firmly, running her fingers through the condensation on her beer. “This isn’t a time to regret all the time you've wasted, or to look back and question everything, and believe me, I’ve been through enough of that for a lifetime. This is your opportunity to look forward, and to get excited for everything still to come.” Rec [written by samwhambam]: Stevie and Ronnie friendship vibes??? Yes please. I love this glimpse into their friendship, especially at a time when Stevie’s really coming into her sexuality. Ronnie is the friend that’s encouraging, but unafraid to call you out on your shit, and I’m so glad that this was added as a part 2 to their fic “A Budding Romance.” It’s a great little glimpse into the world where you learn a lot about a character (Stevie) by seeing her interact with someone who isn’t the main love interest. So so good. Highly recommend.

we'll get together then, dad by @alamborghini, Alexis & Johnny, David & Johnny, T, 1000 words Summary: When Alexis comes out to Johnny, he does some reflecting about his two children. Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: This is one of those fics that, as an author, is so well done I’m actually kind of mad about it — but as a reader is just something to be devoured over and over. I am a sucker for anything and everything in the Queer Feelings tag, and this is a WONDERFUL addition to that tag. Johnny’s POV is rare, but it’s so well done here.

Witches Brewer, by @vivianblakesunrisebay, Marcy, Clint/Marcy, G, 6563 words Summary: In the Brewer family, Patrick isn’t the only one with a secret. Rec [written by samwhambam]: I think it’s pretty obvious how much I LOVE the Brewers. And I love AUs, especially witchy AUs. So put those together? Perfection. Absolute perfection. You can’t convince me that Marcy isn’t a kitchen witch. The writer takes you on a journey as Marcy learns magic and the trials and tribulations that come with it. It is so well written, and has the sweetest ending/last little bit that has you wanting to wrap Marcy up in a hug, because she just loves her son so much. So good.

Happy reading, friends!

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

Text

nct/wayv masterlist

number of works: 48+

begun: 20/08/2019 last updated: 11/12/2020

key

request ✤ musical ♫ halloween/spooky ☾ christmas ❅ oddball ♧ idol birthday present ✧

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

drabbles

Not the Reason ||| Taeil x Reader ✧ ||| fluff, mild angst ~ taeil finally admits something small, and maybe its a step towards the biggest confession of them all

Arms ||| Johnny x Reader just fluff ~ sleepy cuddling with johnny

Pro Gamer ||| Taeyong x Reader ✧ ||| fluff lol ~ playing animal crossing with your boyfriend, and hes not having a lot of luck

00:13 ||| Taeyong x Reader timestamp ||| angst mostly, fluff ~ late at night you hit a depressive spiral after feeling very ignored by your friends

Yuta x Insecure!Reader angst, reassurance fluff ~ because of your insecurities with your body, you make sure youre never as physically close to your boyfriend as much as you want to be. yuta wants to fix that ~ warnings: body insecurities (kept vague, but focusing around chest and stomach), general feelings of upset, tears, swearing (1x f**k)

Epilogue ||| Kun & Reader smutty undertones, lil fluff ~ prequel to ‘Candy Baby’, involves a soft, embarrassed and ultimately curious kun, and an accidentally nosey reader

Peace ||| Kun x Reader big fluff ~ waking up with kun is great—but you know what is also good? falling right back asleep again

Victory ||| Ten x Reader fluff, humour ~ sad ten wants cuddles and mean reader wont give him any

Merigold ||| Jaehyun x Reader angst with tiny fluff ~ when buying flowers for your date, you end up falling in love—with the wrong guy

Safe Haven ||| Mark x Reader big fluff ~ while waiting for your boyfriend to come home, you sit curled up on the sofa, stuck on the edge of sleep

Catgroove - Parov Stelar ||| Hendery x Reader ♫ ||| humour ~ pranking hendery with a classic

Pair ||| Jaemin x Reader ✤ ||| solid fluff ~ you wait for your boyfriend to come home so you can spring a surprise

reactions

How NCT would comfort you after a bad day fluff, bit of angst, some curse words ~ kind of just what it says on the tin

How NCT 127 would react to accidentally hurting you fluff, some tiny spicier elements, but they’re so mild, attempts at humour, tiny bits of angst in some? ~ scenarios in this are only very small things, and are mostly he members being clumsy/forgetting to be a bit careful in normal everyday situations—no one gets really hurt!

How NCT Dream would react to you getting the hiccups pure fluff, humour

Small Displays of Affection in Domestic Life with Dream pure fluff and bad humour

oneshots/imagines

Stay ||| Taeil x Reader fluff ~ boredom strikes you in your tired state, leading you to think back on the night before

Dreams Come True ||| Johnny x MakeupArtist!Reader ✤ ||| fluff, small angst if you squint, some more inferred heated elements ~ johnny is kind to all the members of staff, and so you believe that he thinks no differently of you

Kestrel ||| Johnny x Reader ♧ ||| wistful angst, fluff ~ youre on the cusp on a huge change in your life, but a part of you cant let go, and youre not sure how youre supposed to

Lie to Me ||| Johnny x Reader subverted angst, fluff, smutty undertones ~ you and johnny dont agree on everything. and this time neither of you are great at backing down

Save A Nation ||| Johnny x Reader ❅ ||| humour, lil fluff ~ unistudent!johnny knows how hot he is. oh he knows. he also knows that a certain someone has had a crush on him for a very long time. and he also knows youre not confident enough to address it. but this is the catch for you, you see: because he is

Candy Baby ||| Yuta x Reader ❅ ||| lil fluff, humour, lil smutty undertones ~ you and your boyfriend are shopping at a special lingerie store. though not for the reasons that anyone may first expect…

Entranced ||| Yuta x Reader fluff, lil smutty undertones ~ waking up in yutas arms in the morning, bc who doesnt want that

Mishap ||| Yuta x Reader humour, lil fluff? ~ yuta is not known for his woodwork skills. he is also not particularly known for any common sense that would also come with it. however, good things can be made of the worst scenarios, and yuta is not completely inept—no matter what winwin tries to assert.

Cosiest Place on Earth ||| Kun x Reader big fluff, some humour ~ where Kun is relaxing in peace, and a certain someone decides its a prime time to ‘annoy’ him

Home ||| Kun x Reader ❅ ||| big fluff ~ just cuddling with your long-time boyfriend after a busy day with the rest of wayv

Snow Drift ||| Kun x Reader ❅ ||| fluff, humour ~ going sledding with your boyfriend, what can possibly go wrong?

A Good Reason to Break the Law ||| Doyoung x Reader humour, fluff ~ doyoung does love you. and you wouldnt really call yourself a rule-breaker. yet you always find a way to worry him—which isnt particularly difficult, if you were honest

Baby Baby ||| Doyoung x Reader ♧ ||| fluff ~ a long day out leaves both you and bf!doyoung exhausted, and though its nowhere near over yet, you at least you have each other

Dinosaur ||| Doyoung x Reader fluff, humour, heated elements ~ doyoung was worried to meet your family, but he needn’t have been

Definitions ||| Doyoung x Reader ❅ ||| fluff ~ you’re studying with doyoung after returning home for christmas

Fail-Safe ||| Ten x Reader ❅ ||| big fluff ~ cuddling late at night with your slightly clumsy boyfriend

Aster ||| Jaehyun x Reader ✤ ||| fluff, mildly heated elements ~ just some calm, soft times in bed with a very shirtless jaehyun

Ladder ||| Lucas x Reader ❅ ||| humour, fluff ~ you love your bf lucas, you really do. but sometimes, his chaotic tendencies led him into all kinds of trouble. and you never, ever laugh at him. totally. not even when he puts himself in a compromising position. not even once.

Spirit ||| Xiaojun x Reader ✤ ||| fluff, little bit of sad ~ bed cuddles with your boyfriend after a hard day

Look Down ||| Mark x Reader angst, bits of fluff ~ mark invites you to a pretty bridge at sunset to finally confess to you

Ready ||| Mark x Reader ✧ ||| fluff ~ first time hand-holding with a shy, slightly awkward bean

Beautiful Like the Moon ||| Jeno x Reader ✧ ||| fluff ~ moongazing with your boyfriend to celebrate the end of his birthday

Strength ||| Jeno x Reader fluff ~ even with a cold you cant be stopped, and jeno loves you all the more for it

Sun vs Sun ||| Haechan x Reader humour, fluff ~ playful times out camping with hyuck and the others. but mainly hyuck.

Lung Crusher ||| Johnny x Reader x Haechan ✤ ||| fluff, humour ~ after a long day, you and johnny are peacefully dozing on the sofa. you expected the two of you would be left alone, but youd be wrong

Loved ||| WayV x Reader ✤ ||| big sad, big fluff, big humour ~ everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, no matter how strong they are. and so when you come home from an awful day in the outside world, you are blessed to have several people come and pick you up again, setting you back on your feet ~ long fic ~ - NOTE: this is the old version of a new multiparter fic seen below, named Love. This version, Loved, will not be edited or updated but will be kept up for the slightly different series of events that it follows in comparison to its new version.

multi-parters

The Code ||| Doyoung x Barista!Reader slight angst, some fluff, mostly a mystery ~ doyoung has a thing for a barista at the best cafe in town, and after finding out the boss there is super strict, he counts his chances out. however, a bizarre set of events lead to an opening for someone clever enough to take it, and luckily his heart has chosen well. Part One ~ where doyoung remembers a special moment and confesses much to his own regret Part Two - coming soon ~ where doyoung begins to find strange numbers on his averley recyclable cups

King and Lionheart ||| King!Jungwoo x RoyalKnight!Reader ♧ ||| angst, fluff ~ inspired by the song of the same name, jungwoo is your king who you serve with your life, and you are his beloved knight in shining armour Part One ~ where you flee with nothing but the clothes on your backs and one another Part Two - coming soon ~ where you fight

Love ||| WayV x Reader ✤ ||| reader big sad, lots of fluff, quite a bit of yearning & foreshadowed drama Main Story ~ everyone needs to be taken care of sometimes, no matter how strong they are. and so when you come home from an awful day in the outside world, you are blessed to have several people come and pick you up again, setting you back on your feet. though, not everything is as a clear cut as you perhaps once thought ~ long fic ~ - slow updates - Ending One - Kun - coming soon . Ending Two - Ten - coming soon . Ending Three - Sicheng - coming soon . Ending Four - Lucas Extra Special fluff, soft angst ~ ft jungwoo & reader; you and xuxi have an impromptu slumber party where your feelings are finally admitted to one another with the accidentally prompting on jungwoo’s behalf . Ending Five - Xiaojun Jigsaw Puzzle fluff, bit of humour ~ after finding the hedgehog’s plastic bowl broken, you and xiaojun head to the pet store to buy a new one . Ending Six - Hendery - coming soon . Ending Seven - Yangyang - coming soon

Camping ||| NCT 127 & WayV x Reader fluff, some spicier elements sometimes ||| choose-your-own-story Start - in progress: 9,575 words collectively so far - - slow updates - ~ where you go camping with nct 127 & wayv, and end up in the most boring tent after dark during a small storm

extra

Vibe Checking NCT ~ don’t ask just read

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 4 years

Text

Most Beloved Demon

Summary: It all started with a simple chat. A mere idle thought you had about one of the human customs in matchmaking that you shared in with the rest of the brothers because you were once again scheming to have another date with Mammon. And then you had to make another group chat without him because God, Jesus, and Mary showed you the way and it was a birthday party extravaganza for Mammon.

Tags: Galaxy Brained Reader, Oblivious Mammon, Idiots in Love, Happy Birthday Mammon, Sweets, Reader is Horny for Mammon, Kissing as a distraction

Rating: Rated E for explicit cock sucking and fucking at a dark alleyway

A/N: A late birthday fic for Mammon because I’ve just finished prelims for law school and boy am I worried

It had started, like with all things that shook the House of Lamentation, at a fine peaceful day. You were lounging in your room, feeling slightly neglected that Mammon wasn’t cuddling with you which meant that you couldn’t accidentally brush against his cock while cuddling or send him a signal that you were totally down to be fucked by him anytime anywhere. You’ve exhausted all means of entertainment, you were done doing your Diavolo-sanctioned prank on Lucifer, exhausted Asmo’s patience on your Mammon-less day, taunted Belphie on his apparent failure to keep you dead, entertained yourself by treating Beel as a food disposal unit and conducting “science experiments”, teaching Satan about human curses, and of course harassed Levi’s in-game character and made him drop 20 levels because he talked shit about your in-game wifey who was Mammon. Not that he knew.

Which meant that you were so bored, and there was no Mammon who could distract you, or you could seduce to a very fun and sexy game of strip billiards. Which ultimately meant you’d either have to trek to the Castle and bother Diavolo to play with you or go over at the Purgatory Hall and rope Solomon into revealing if Merlin is real. In the middle of your contemplation, your phone vibrated and a quick glance at it showed Barbatos’ message which read:

It would be more fruitful if you remained where you are.

You blinked and obediently shelved your plan of bothering Solomon and instead sent a message to the group chat:

🐑 : You know, in the human world in one culture birth dates are a great way of measuring compatibility between two people

You sat back and waited for everyone’s reply. Then the messages came flooding in and you smirked in satisfaction as you saw Mammon take the bait you’ve dangled, you idly watched them bicker, pouring gasoline whenever or dousing it water. Your laptop was ready to calculate and the moment Asmo shared his birthday you brought out the results and gleefully watched the mayhem about to ensue.

🐑 : Amazing! Asmo we have an 88% Compatibility~!

Sure enough, Asmo would never miss out a chance to mess with everyone else and so the two of you were able to successfully get everyone to do the compatibility test with you. The moment Mammon gave you his birthday you had foolishly remained oblivious to the date. Mind still focusing on the compatibility rate.

🐑 : Mammon~ We’ve got the highest compatibility rate~! 91%!

🐑 : By the way the method I used is the one for calculating marriage compatibility.

And then you glanced back to the calculator and registered the date he had given.

“September 10?” You mumbled as you glanced at the calendar and then back to Mammon’s apparent birthday.

Your eyes widened in realization just as the door to your room slammed open and your very cute and most beloved demon came in with a wild blush on his face. You blinked at his winter outfit and then decided that Devildom was much to cold for your delicate human body. Mammon, who was attuned to the ebb and flow of your libido made quick work of his and your clothes and the two of you wrestled under the sheets.

After 10 rounds of you alternating between begging Mammon to cum inside you and asking to suck his dick, you were giving him sweet and lazy kisses on his neck, giving him hickeys all the while engaging in your shared favorite hobby cock warming. Mammon had been flustered, at the start, with how into his kinks you were up until he realized that you were really just into him and made him melt.

Now he was used and utterly spoiled with your clingy disposition after sex. He would give you sweet kisses or alternate with teasing you a little bit and letting you decide if you wanted to go for another round. Right now though, his mind was preoccupied with the words that you had said. Mammon might have just been dating you for less than a year but even so he already knew you like the back of his hand.

So he definitely knew that you had some sort of ulterior motive for bringing that part with the marriage. And Mammon wasn’t sure if he wanted you to be like that to him. He knew himself and he knew that if you were really willing to enter into marriage with him...that there was no way he’d let you get away and neither would you let him. Mammon had already seen the depths of your love for him, had come to accept that you would always hold him above all.

And the best and worst of it was that he was the same.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him voice soft and hoarse.

Mammon smirked as he remembered how you looked utterly bliss out after having your mouth fucked. He shifts and you moan as you end up beneath him. You feel his cum drip from your pussy and looked at him in anticipation.

“Ya really are a slut for me” Mammon teased you, thrusting into you a little bit.

“It’s because I love you...” You encircled your arms on his neck and tug him down for a sweet kiss. You smile as Mammon begins another round of sex, he fucks you languidly, enjoying this moment where the two of you simple enjoyed existing. Whispering sweet words of love and the knowledge that both of you had found each other.

When all is said and done, you spooned him, holding him tight and close to your chest and he holds you equally tight and tells you,

“...I want to spend my birthday with you...”

“As you wish” You kissed him good night.

In extreme contrast with your passionate and gentle night of slumber with Mammon was the birthday plan meeting you were currently holding secretly. You had, in very character of you, used one of the favors Barbatos owed you to have him send Mammon on an errand that would last long enough for all of you to plan his birthday.

Lucifer had shot down all your suggestions of gifting Mammon a Casino, a Mansion and Villa in the human realm, buying him a gold mine, and gifting him a civil registry that listed him as your husband in devildom and the human realm.

Satan had, in a rare moment of cooperation with Lucifer, also shot down all your party suggestions of champagne towers, booking the entire Ristorante Six, Booking the entire Fall, and giving Mammon a surprise wedding.

All of you had eventually decided to just give Mammon a sentimental and heartfelt gift of experience. With a strict order from Lucifer to not let you pick a stationary set that was used for weddings.

Which meant that you had made plans with them to buy it two days later, when you knew that Mammon had a photo shoot and thus you had no date with him scheduled that day. And because your Father-in-Law was still holding a grudge over that time you beat him up at the Mcdonald’s back parking lot, Mammon’s shoot got rescheduled and you ended up bumping to him just when you, Asmo, and Satan had bought the supplies.

“...Why?” He asked looking hurt and dejected that you had turned him down to spend time with Asmo and Satan.

“It’s now what you think!” You hurriedly replied.

“Hey, don’t sound like a husband that just got caught” Satan frowned as he stealthily hid the paper bag that held the stationary set and golden wax seal the three of you had bought.

“Satan’s right you know?” Asmo chimed, “The three of us were just window shopping.”

Asmo signaled you to distract Mammon and you nodded. So in a moment of sheer brilliance you led Mammon to a darkened and secluded alleyway. Pushed him in the wall and kissed him deeply before he could protest. All of his anger and hurt melted away as you fervently kissed him, one of your hand palming on his cock as you twined your tongue with his.

You stop and let Mammon see the sloppy evidence of the make out session you had just initiated. Far more filthy and intense than your accidentally on purpose mistake of fumbling the seduction spell during the exam.

“I’m not going to forgive you so easily!”

You said nothing to that and instead dropped to your knees as your finger traced the seam of his zipper. Mammon cursed and muttered an invisibility and warding spell. You unzipped his pants with your teeth, kissing his hardened cock through the fabric of his brief. You glanced at him and smiled at him devilishly before you took his cock into your mouth and began giving him the best blow job of his entire demonic and angelic life combined.

You, who was always horny on main for your demon boyfriend, was giving it your all in sucking his dick putting into good use all the techniques your succubi and incubi friends had given you. Your alternated between deep throating yourself with his thick and long cock and giving him a hand job as your tongue licked his balls and then his cock. You enjoyed the thick veins on Mammon’s dick along with the undeniable blunt ridges that you had grown familiar with.

“Fuck!” Mammon cursed as he decided he had enough of your teasing and fucked your mouth, dirty talk falling easily out of his mouth as he praised you, “You’re always such a slut for my dick aren’t ya? look at you turning your mouth into a pussy for me to use any time I want.”

You tried to convey your pleasure with your eyes, agreeing with everything Mammon said and that had only served to increase his pleasure. He took great joy at seeing you on your knees and begging him with your eyes as you lost your self to heat and lust. Hands gripping on Mammon’s clothes, your mouth and his cock making lewd noises as your saliva dripped on the corners of your mouth.

Mammon took out his cock from your mouth and you whined at the lost, his hand still gripping your hair and you were looking at him with a betrayed look while his free hand was pumping his dick.

“Mammon~”

“You really want me to make you swallow or do you want me to fuck you here in this alley for as long as I want?”

You blinked and looked at him with a dazed look, Mammon’s smirk growing wide as he let your hair go and watched you unzip your mini shorts, letting it drop to the ground and presenting your enticing hole to Mammon.

“What a good slut” Mammon praised you as he used his wet dick and spit as lube before teasing your opening.

“Ma-nnn..darling! I want your dick in me already!” You cried softly as Mammon teased you while you could only look longingly at his erect dick and let your mouth water.

“Then say the magic words” He teased you as he bit you on your neck.

“Please breed this good and obedient slut with your thick and lovely seed!” You begged him in between moans and shudders of pleasure that went through your body. Mammon stuttered for a moment before he regained his wits and did as you asked.

His cock entered you easily, “Your hole really was meant to take my cock” he let you get used to the feeling before he began moving slowly, watching the soft jiggling of your chest with each thrust he made. His hands were holding both of your wrists you could only moan as Mammon ruthlessly grazed your spot with his hard dick.

“If anyone could see you right now they’d think you were getting paid for this,” Mammon grinned darkly, “But then again, you were only ever a slut for me aren’t you? Opening your legs for me anytime I ask, easily taking my cock into your mouth.”

“I-it’s becau-! I love you!” You panted as you felt Mammon hit your spot.

Mammon knew you loved him but it really was different hearing how you were only like this because you loved him. He smiled at you and sweetly kissed you on your mouth as he carried you in his arms.

“Ma--” You cut off by his dick thrusting in you deeper. You were vaguely aware that your shorts had already slipped off your leg and your underwear was already ruined.

“I love you too” Mammon said as he vigorously fucked your hole and you could only hold on tightly on his shoulders as you stopped bothering to lower your voice.

The sounds of wet flesh slapping, along with your lustful moans filled the darkened alley. You weren’t aware of the passage of time, nor did you care about the fact that there were often footsteps that would stop at the mouth of the alley. All you cared about was the feeling of Mammon fucking you and the undeniable smell of his come covering your body.

All your clothes had ended up on the ground, you were naked while Mammon still had his clothes on, not that you mind since there was something erotic about the picture it presented to any voyeur that was brave enough to risk Mammon’s ire. Your legs had grown weak after the 15th round and you were only dazedly looking at air as Mammon fucked you from behind, his previous comes dripping down your hole and between your legs. Some had formed a puddle directly on the ground beneath your hole.

Your neck and shoulders were filled with love bites, and most of your skin was sticky with dried cum. You felt Mammon slow down on his thrust and then the familiar wet heat of his cum filled your inside.

You looked at him in question, watching him observe his masterful lewd work that was you.

“Already?” You asked him slightly frowning.

Mammon only looked at you helplessly fond and doting before he began to dress you up, fingers teasing your overstimulated nerves but keeping it at that, “We still need to go home in time for the curfew.”

You pouted but nonetheless let him do as he pleased, though you did squirm a little bit as he zip up your shorts and teasing you once more by rubbing his hand on your crotch through the fabric.

Soaking the crotch are with the mixture of his and your cum. You whined at him, “Can’t we continue at a love hotel?”

Mammon said nothing beyond a teasing smile as he lad you out of the alley, you were limping slightly as you leaned completely on his side and steadfastly ignored the looks the demons were giving you nor did you pay any mind on the undeniable dribble of cum that was between your legs.

What mattered was that Mammon had forgotten about the events earlier and you were getting railed again once both of you got home.

The next morning you woke up on Mammon’s arms and experienced the feeling of being a pampered wife who got railed so good. Mammon had sat you on his lap and fed you as you weakly laid on his chest and ignored the judgmental looks Lucifer was giving you. Chances were, he had already found out about the semi-public sex you and Mammon did.

But you were well-fed and satiated so you put it on the back of your mind as you planned to get things done for Mammon’s surprise. So the time you spent away from Mammon, physically since you were sending him sexy pics and basically having sext with him, was allotted for writing the letters for him. Special ones that would last for years even when you would no longer be alive.

You carefully wrote each letter and made sure that in each and everyone of it had all your overflowing love for him. You wrote him a letter for every conceivable event that you could thought of, until it went from emotions he would feel into situations he would get in until it became for his everyday life.

With each letter you wrote, you couldn’t help but be envious of the people he’d get to meet after you were gone. The selfish part of you that wanted to remain inside his heart for as long as he lived. You could only sigh at your helplessness, there was no guarantee that you would live forever and that you could be with him till he died.

You didn’t know if he would remember you clearly or slowly fade away from his memories. So you decided to give him this indelible words that carried your most fervent wish of being able to stay by his side for eternity.

You wrote and wrote, pouring all of the words that you could never say and to cowardly to speak aloud and instead let it hang on the air. In between the moments when Mammon would catch your eye and you’d look at him and see his love that overflows, in the brief moments of silence where you would hold onto him tightly afraid of him leaving you, in those dark days that you almost lost him and still foolishly unaware that you had come to love him.

The words you kept inside you flowed from your heart and mind and into the tips of your fingers, as you wrote page after page of love letters for Mammon. You let the papers dry and lovingly folded it into the golden envelopes and sealed it with a red wax seal that held your initials.

You placed it inside your jewelry box and hid it.

The door to your room opened and you turned around, seeing Mammon you couldn’t help but smile widely as you called for his name.

You rushed to hug him and Mammon peppered your face with kisses. You let yourself soak up the warmth of his love and decided to no longer think of the distant future that you feared the most.

Mammon had always known that you loved him the most in the entire world. It was hard not to, when you were always out rightly favoring him, always treating him so much better than the others and you would always tell it to him. There was no room for doubt when it came to your love.

And Mammon loved you as well, your flaws and everything because it was what made you human. You weren’t a saint or a holy mother, he didn’t care about your cruel streak that only ever existed in defense of him and his brothers nor did he mind the days you would stick to him relentlessly as if you were afraid he would be gone. He didn’t mind your moments of jealousy, the instances when you’d cut someone with your words.

You had left a mark on his heart that would never fade away, you had made him yours in the way no one would be able to do so. He smiled at the pieces of memory you had left him, proof of your existence in a world that changed much too fast and much too slow for someone like him.

Your bones had withered and turned into dust, you were no longer by his side, all three realms was co-existing peacefully, you lasted long enough to see Diavolo’s dreams to bear fruit, you stayed long enough to hold your great grand children in your arms but even so it still wasn’t enough for him. His greedy heart that was only ever content with you in his arms. But even so Mammon could still remember your voice, the inflections on the words you spoke, the way your eyes glittered with happiness upon seeing his face.

He looked at the wrinkled and yellowed letter you had left him. The last among the letters you wrote for him since the first birthday you had celebrated with him. -

Dear Mammon,

If you’re reading this letter then that would mean I’m no longer by your side. Somehow even with the centuries I’ve spent with you, the thought that I am no longer by your side still makes me cry. You’ve influenced me too much that I became greedy of you.

Have you eaten yet? Are you sleeping well? Are you taking care of yourself?

Don’t mope around anymore, by time you reached this letter centuries would have passed since I died. I know I said I can’t accept you having someone else after me and I was happy that you went along with my selfish wish but even so...I don’t want you to miss out on another great love. I’m already happy with all the years you’ve given me even if it was just a fraction of what you lived and you will live.

I’m really scared that you’d forget me easily and I still want to live longer and be by your side I love you so much that I’m afraid what would happen to you once I’m gone. Mammon, my most beloved demon, I’m sorry I had to leave you first. But even so I’m selfishly happy that I would never know what a world without you would be. I’m weak and cowardly even so you loved this part of me that desperately held onto you, you loved me even if you knew that between the two of us I’ve forgotten how to live without you.

I knew you like the back of my hand, so familiar and foreign at the same time. In all the years I’ve spent writing you letters filled with words that I could never say aloud, I’ve come to accept that I only knew of love because of you. It’s a scary thought, knowing that if I hadn’t meet you...I wouldn’t have given love a chance. I would have live my years not knowing the warmth of your embrace or peace that your presence brought to me.

Thank you for giving me a family that I love and loves me in return, I was so happy when I bore you our third child. Do you remember? I cried that time because he looked so much liked you, he had your eyes and your nose, and then he had your laugh and smile. Our eldest daughter was so happy then, finally having a human passing brother. Number 2 was so pouty that day but even so I was happy with our little family.

There’s a lot of things I want to write to you in this final letter but my hands are already shaking. Our Little Ds of Greed are scampering around right now while I’m writing this. I can’t help but laugh a little bit, my heart feels a bit sour. You’re sleeping soundly right now by my side and I love you so much, that even if my lungs hurt and my body aches so much I want to spend the last moments of my life telling you how much I love you.

I love your smile. I love your laugh. I love the way you’d get into trouble and come to me for help. I love the days you’d let me chase away your nightmares. I love how you patiently waited for me to return to your side. I love how you always tell me you love in the little ways. I love how you never let me wake up in a cold empty bed. I love you. I love you from the moment you ran towards me. I love you until now.

I love you in this life, and if there is a next life for me, I’ll love you there as well. I love you in every world there is that I exist with you. I love you in all infinite possibilities of this universe and the next.

I love you, my Mammon. And I will begone but even if I am no longer by your side I would still love you. I would love you even if my mind and heart forgets because whatever it was that our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.

So live well and fall in love with the world again, my cherished and inevitable downfall.

Yours in Eden.

#mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x mc #obey me mammon x mc #mammon #obey me

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