#// it really does make me warm inside to hear stuff like this even when i dont get to reply all the time

[munsonkitten]

read on AO3 | rated T | sick fic

Eddie groans on the other side of the room. He’s curled up on the recliner with a pillow hugged to his chest. Beside him, a half eaten bag of chips and an unopened Mountain Dew can sit on the side table. He groans again and shifts in his seat, drawing his knees up higher to his chest like he’s trying to crawl inside himself. 

“You okay, baby?” Steve asks from the couch. 

A quiet grunt comes from the mess of curly brown hair covering his face. He unravels himself slowly, crawling out of the chair without bothering to put down the foot rest. The pillow gets left where it is, and the chips and his drink lay forgotten where they are. 

“I’ll be back.”

Eddie disappears from the living room, and the bathroom door clicks close. He’s gone for a little while, and Steve’s about to get up to check on him when the bathroom door opens again, and then he hears Eddie step out and the bedroom door clicks shut instead. When Eddie finally comes back, he’s replaced his jeans for sweatpants, and he has one of his blankets wrapped around his shoulders. 

“My stomach hurts,” Eddie says, his voice sounding miserable. 

It’s a common occurrence at this point. Steve’s used to Eddie being so up and down — he has good days and bad days, and he eats too much junk food for his stomach to handle. Most days something hurts, and Steve wishes he could wrap Eddie up and keep him safe and away from the pain forever. 

In the few months they’ve been together, and the year before that they were friends, Steve’s seen more stomach aches, headaches, painful periods, heartburn and other various ailments than he can count. And he knows Eddie can feel completely miserable over the smallest things — he doesn’t handle any of it very well, moaning and groaning and sighing while he looks for tums and ibuprofen and whatever else he needs. 

Steve hums empathetically, sitting up in case Eddie wants the spot where he’s laying. “Can I get you anything?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“Is it period cramps?”

Eddie shakes his head again. 

“Good old fashioned tummy ache, then,” Steve says. 

Eddie shrugs, wrapping his blanket tighter around himself. He turns around and goes into the kitchen, and Steve hears glasses clinking in the cupboard, and then the sink running. Eddie comes back with a glass of water, taking small sips as he comes toward Steve.

He places a damp hand on his forehead, and then his cheeks, cooling his pink skin. He might have a fever, too, Steve thinks. Something’s been going around, and it’s knocked out each kid one after the other this week — it was only a matter of time before Eddie or Steve caught it too. 

“C’mere, kitten,” Steve says, opening up his arms.

He lays back down, gesturing for Eddie to come lay with him on the couch. 

Eddie fits himself half on top of Steve, the rest of him slipping between Steve and the back of the couch. The blanket covers them, and Steve can tell Eddie took off his binder when he left the room, too. It’s rare for him to take it off during the day, even if it’s just them at home with no other plans, so he knows Eddie must really not be feeling good. 

“Are you sure you don't want a ginger ale, or something?” Steve asks. He slides his hand up and down Eddie’s back, trying to soothe away the pain. 

“Don’t have any.” 

“I can run to the store.”

“No,” Eddie says. “Only cure is cuddles.”

“Is that so?” Steve snorts. 

“Don’t make fun of me. I’m being attacked by my immune system. I’m sick, Steve. You would make fun of someone for having an illness? Shame on you.”

It’s obvious Eddie’s heart isn’t really in it. The teasing doesn’t feel like it usually does because Eddie just sounds tired. He burrows his warm face into Steve’s neck, and sighs, a quiet groan slipping out along with it. 

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good, baby,” Steve murmurs. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers. “Always so sweet to me.”

“Just say the word, and I’ll go get some stuff for you, okay?” Steve offers again. 

Eddie just hums noncommittally and curls impossibly closer to Steve’s body. He’s snoring softly within the next few minutes, and Steve just turns his attention back to the TV, allowing Eddie to get some rest. 

They lay there together for a long while, and Eddie comes in and out of consciousness ever so often. Sometimes he mumbles out quiet words of ‘don’t feel good,’ or laughs at jokes on the show they’re watching, and falls back asleep again.

There’s a warm swell of love in Steve’s chest. The fact that Eddie’s comfortable with him, even when he’s miserable like this, makes Steve fall in love with him even more.

Each nuzzle of Eddie’s warm face against his neck, and each curl of his fingers in Steve’s shirt, or each slide of his leg over Steve’s hip as he gets more comfortable — it all makes Steve feel like the luckiest guy on earth. 

The afternoon slips away into evening, and Eddie dozes in and out for most of it. By the time Wayne’s about to leave for work, Eddie’s awake again and groaning in discomfort each time he shifts on the couch.

“I take it someone’s not feeling well,” Wayne comments as he leaves his bedroom. “You need anything before I go, bud?” 

“No,” Eddie says, lifting his head just enough to talk to Wayne. He drops it back down with a heavy sigh when the fatigue decides he’s done enough. “Steve’s taking care of me.”

Wayne lingers for just another second, probably waiting to see if Eddie changes his mind, and then he says his goodbyes and tells them he’ll be back in the morning, like always. 

Eddie mumbles out a goodbye and a ‘see you later,’ just as Wayne walks out the front door. 

He uncurls himself from Steve’s body, then, and worms his way into a sitting position. Steve shifts to give Eddie more room, and raises an eyebrow at him. 

There’s a sheen of sweat on Eddie’s face, his forehead glistening and his cheeks a rosy pink. He pushes the blanket off of them and sighs, head lolling back against the backrest of the couch. 

“It’s too hot,” Eddie bemoans. 

And it’s not, really. It’s winter, and there’s a chill in the air, even inside. Eddie’s like a furnace, though, and his forehead is warm when Steve lifts his hand to touch it. 

“You might be really coming down with something,” Steve says. 

“You should probably go home,” Eddie says. “Don’t wanna get you sick.”

Steve frowns and shakes his head. “I’ll take care of you.”

Eddie sighs, loud and long. “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I don’t feel like I have to,” Steve says, simply. “I like taking care of you. Figured you’d have noticed that by now.”

Eddie drops his head down to Steve’s chest and moans quietly in his throat. His fingers curl around Steve’s shirt and he holds on, curled in on himself. 

“Fuck,” Eddie grunts after a few seconds. “Sorry. Just had, like, a wave of nausea.”

“At the thought of me taking care of you?” Steve jokes.

“Shut up.”

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed, baby. You’ll be more comfortable.” 

“Give me another second. Please.”

“Take your time,” Steve says, rubbing a hand up and down Eddie’s back. His shirt is damp with sweat, and he’s radiating feverish heat. 

Whatever Eddie has is coming on quick because he was fine this afternoon when Steve first came over. That’s why Steve thought it was just a regular junk food induced stomach ache earlier, and that Eddie would be fine after some tums or a nap, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

He’s been around for headaches and stomach aches and other little ailments, but he’s never seen Eddie sick. Not like this. 

Eventually Eddie uncurls himself from Steve, and unsteadily makes his way to his feet. There’s exhaustion in his movements, and Steve is quick to wrap an arm around his waist to help him. It might not be necessary, but Steve can’t help it — he wants to take care of Eddie in any way he can, and making sure he doesn’t pass out in the fifteen feet from the couch to his bedroom seems like a good place to start. 

He gets Eddie situated in bed, fluffing up his pillows and making sure his blankets are within reach. Eddie takes one and pulls it up to his chin, rolling over to lay on his side. If he didn’t look so miserable, Steve thinks this would be really cute — Eddie being all cozy and cuddly always makes Steve smile and want to take a picture to save forever. 

“I’m going to the store,” Steve says, regretting that he has to leave Eddie alone, but knowing he needs more than they currently have to get through this. “I’ll get you some soup and some ginger ale, okay? Anything else you might need?”

Eddie shrugs. “Just be quick.”

“Of course, baby.”

He bends down and presses a kiss to Eddie’s sweaty forehead, running his fingers through his damp hair, and then he finds his shoes and keys and leaves. 

At the store, he picks out a few cans of soup and some ginger ale. He tries to remember what his mom would do for him when he was sick as a kid, and thinks of long nights with a cold towel pressed to his forehead, and a regularly refilled cup of ice for him to chew on. He doesn’t know how much ice Eddie has in his freezer, so he decides he’ll just buy a bag instead of worrying about finding ice trays or how long they’ll take to freeze.

His basket is full by the time he gets to the check out, and he knows he’s been gone for a lot longer than he meant to be. 

He gets back to Eddie’s, and finds him still curled up in bed where Steve left him. Steve gives him a Gatorade and a cup of ice before leaving to put the rest of the groceries away. 

“Here, try eating something,” Steve says gently, watching as Eddie’s big eyes give him a look that says he wants to do anything else. “Just a few crackers, okay? And I’ll make you some soup in a little bit.”

Steve leaves him to it, a napkin of saltines on his nightstand, and goes to wet a washcloth from the bathroom. He folds it a few times and moves Eddie’s bangs so he can lay it over his forehead. 

“Thanks,” Eddie whispers, bringing a cracker to his mouth to take a few small bites. He finishes it and moves to lay down on his side, now holding the cold washcloth to his forehead. 

“Do you need anything else while I’m up?” Steve asks. 

Eddie takes a few small sips of his Gatorade, and then a few more before answering. “I’m okay.”

With that, Steve climbs into Eddie’s bed, settling between his boyfriend and the wall. He pulls a magazine out of the crevice between the bed and the wall and flicks it open to where he left off the last time he was here. 

“You’re supposed to be cuddling me,” Eddie huffs, looking over his shoulder at Steve with as playful a look he can muster. “It’s the only cure.”

“How could I forget?” 

Steve puts his magazine back, and turns on his side so he can spoon up behind Eddie. His hand settles gently on his stomach, rubbing up and down in a way he hopes is soothing for him. 

It’s pretty likely, Steve thinks, that he’s going to get sick soon, too. This stomach bug has wiped out most of their friends at this point, and being this close to Eddie means it’s definitely going to jump to him next. 

He finds that he doesn’t really care. There’s no place he’d rather be right now, and there’s no way in hell he’s leaving Eddie to ride this out on his own. 

“So sweet to me,” Eddie murmurs sleepily. It isn’t the first time he’s said it today.

Steve presses a kiss to the back of his warm neck. “Get some rest, baby.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hums. “Tired.”

Sleep tugs at Steve, and he lets himself succumb to it, Eddie held safe in his arms.

(please leave kudos on AO3 <3)

[m0e-ru]

hi ive been binging your blog a lot recently. i rlly adore the sheer effort you've given to these dumbass fucking characters that otherwise get such little people even attempting to appreciate or engage with them beyond very shallow depths. as someone who only really got into the p4 games relatively recently (2022. my only remembered experience with the series beforehand was like a couple episodes of the the p4anim years ago and playing p5 in 2016/2017) and kind of being shell-shocked by how characters like marie and teddie and namatame were perceived by the overall fanbase once i started engaging with it more i really appreciate all the writing and analysis and art and other shit you do for them. even the gas station attendant, a character i overlooked initially, i've come to love because of all the time and energy you put into picking them apart like a dead frog in a science class

uh yea idfk i feel generally vindicated by seeing the way you characterize these bitches. especially marie as someone who felt like a lot of her interesting aspects were evaporated by the fandom (somewhat because of p4ga i feel but but still) and wanted to see more silly fanart of her (and shumarie/soumarie/whatecvrer the fuck that wasn't just kind of surface level romance becuz i rlly do love their dynamic w how i see bancho in my head. idiots who dont know how to properly express themselves w one repressing themselves to adopt a likable persona and the other unable to shut the fuck up much to their own detriment. im not gonna get over that fucking "marie makes everyday sunny for him" post ever i think) so uh keep on keeping on and ill continue to like your posts and something

anyway dumb stupid cringe fucking rant over. i apologize if i come off like a loser i dont use this website and idk the general tumblr etiquette. im pretty sure shit like this shouldnt even go here but . dont need to respond to this i just wanted to yell into the void cuz i appreciate this account. rest of this will just be panels of marie and teddie and bancho from some of the p4g anthologies i own that i wanted to share in the off chance that you also dont already own said anthologies n have seen them befor. these r only from the last ID antho and the dengeki one because those r the only 2 i have proper pictures of

hai i read this ages ago and i wanna get back to it by saying youre so awesome possum forever and ever dont worry about your ettiquette because getting 3 essay worthy paragraphs of you talking is basically everyone ive met in the tumblr nation

another thing i remember is that a bestie also loved your offerings esp the last one because those two look so lalala AUAHUAHA okay i should answer this ask properly now that i have the time 🏃🏃🏃🏃

can we give it up for the bingers and blog skimmers !?!?!?! you guys are such an interesting breed i remember trying to do that in 2018 i can already recall the thrill going through my blood im so honored to see people doing that and moreso coming to me to tell me about it WAHAUHAHA 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

this gas station (blog) really is catered to the niche market of all time also because the way my brain is wired to just go in the dustiest nooks and corners of a community and thrive and live there. i AM the bug you see when you lift up the rock . hai . i'll do anything for these poor poor characters being tossed around like hot potato with people who dont bother understanding thing or even try to pick them up at all. also im getting such a kick every time someone tells me i got them into appreciating the attendant or even iznmi more OR in a different way. thats why im here bros . me when i do my JOB !!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

the way fandom handles shipping has always irked me because theres just SO much you can do with two characters than just make them hold hands. what if there was blood invovled, you know . /starts pacing around the room / you know im glad you know the know it's so cool you know /shaking you/ im glad i have a post that's affected you so much like i thought it was just a silly caption at the time and seeing it after 2 or 3 years is like "YEAHH i cooked this " and im glad you brought it to me hehehe

i hope this gas station brings you joy and you keep coming back for more etc etc and please know i really am happy to see you around in whatever branch you show up at 🫡🫡🫡 /explordes

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hii! May i request some headcanons were mt. lady, sir night eye, present mic, eraser and all might react to their s/o wearing their clothes after sex? Like if they didn’t have any clothes with them what weren’t… dirty so they stole some! Sorry if this is boring but I thought it was kinda cute :)

Hope you enjoy these, lovely!

Characters: Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye, Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Contents: gn!reader, mild nsfw

Takeyama Yuu/Mount Lady

Perhaps it was an impromptu tryst, because you’re at Mount Lady’s apartment and your only clothes are dirty. Perhaps your stuff got torn up in a fight with a villain and now you’ve come back to hers to ‘celebrate’, you find yourself left with nothing but your underwear. Perhaps not even that. 

You could sleep naked, but it’s not the most comfortable situation to be in. So you wander over to Yuu’s wardrobe (really a walk-in closet). She might only be a debut hero, but she’s very popular and spends a lot of time in the limelight. This translates to making absolute bank, and she spends a lot of it on beautiful clothes. Obviously, you’re not going to wear a gala dress to bed, so you grab a t-shirt that looks pretty old, and maybe a pair of yoga pants. 

Depending on your size compared to her, they might be fine, or they might be a tight fit. When she comes back into the bedroom, her skin gleaming from her nightly skincare routine, she stops in the doorway and pouts at you.

“If you stretch those out, you’re going to have to replace them.”

“...says the woman who turns into a titan?” The irony is too much for you.

“Only my hero costume stretches with me, duh.” A pause. “Your butt does look good in those yoga pants, though.”

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

It would seem that if you’re dating Sir Nighteye, you’ve at least got some sense of planning and responsibility. But you’re only human, and sometimes you’re going to find yourself caught short. Short on clothes, in this case. Even if your clothes are clean, you couldn’t fathom sleeping in your work clothes.

You wait until Sir Nighteye is in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, before sneaking open one of his drawers and grabbing something at random. You end up with…

A pair of boxers and a vintage All Might t-shirt.

It’s hardly the sexiest of nightwear, but you make it work. He leans back into the doorway to tell you to borrow some clothing, and you’re lounging on his bed, all “Paint me like one of your French girls”. 

“I’ve been waiting for you~” you purr.

He nearly spits out his mouthwash, and disappears back into the bathroom to gather himself. You distinctly hear him chuckle under his breath, then clear his throat.

“If you want to entice me, darling, don’t wear the face of my former boss on your torso.”

Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic

Hizashi’s always trying to get you to wear his clothes, anyway! He drapes his little moto jacket (the casual one, not the studded one he wears as part of his costume) over your shoulders a lot and tells you how great you look. 

Seeing his partner wear his clothes just gives him this little kick and makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. 

You’ve got a variety of options in Mic’s wardrobe. In the t-shirt section, you’ve got a lot of band t-shirts, weird, bright coloured ones covered in fruit or English slogans, a few rare Eraserhead merch t-shirts he got done to piss off Aizawa, and if you want to borrow some boxers, you’ll be hard pressed to find some that don’t have a loud, zany pattern on them. 

If you want to be (moderately) sexy, grab a vintage band t-shirt and a pair of his black boxer briefs. If you want to make him laugh, grab the stupidest t-shirt you can find and pair it with an eye watering set of boxer shorts, especially if they have bananas on them. 

Hizashi grins wide enough to split his face in half at the sight of you in his clothes. It doesn’t matter if you went for sexy or stupid, really, because he’ll just try to get you out of them again, if you know what I mean~

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

This is one of those things that Aizawa doesn’t know he likes until he sees it for the first time. He’s probably dragged himself out of your post-coital snooze to get you both some water or feed the stray cat on his balcony, leaving you to ponder your clothing situation. 

When you open Aizawa’s wardrobe, it’s 75% loose black shirts and pants, with a few non-black items crammed at one end, including those infamous pink sweatpants. 

It seems he’s not totally averse to colour, just not when he’s working. He has a few t-shirts (gifts from Hizashi) covered in cats (as opposed to just covered in cat hair, like the rest). 

If you’ve cuddled him at all, which you have, thoroughly, you know that all his clothes are surprisingly soft and comfortable. He tends to end up with raggedy cuffs on his sleeves, but even so, the shirt has that soft texture clothing gets when it’s been washed many times. You dig out some random black shorts he has, though you’ve never seen him expose his pasty legs in public, so they must be old.

Shouta shuffles back into the room to find you asleep, curled up in your borrowed finery. There’s something about the sight of you lying in his bed, wearing his clothes, looking so warm and comfortable. It’s like a little gut punch of domesticity. 

“You’re meant to ask, you brat,” he says fondly, flopping onto the bed next to you. 

Still, he reflects, as he pulls you closer, that shirt’s gonna smell like you now. Maybe he should make you wear it every time you sleep over.

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

All Might’s still pretty nervous about being in a relationship so he’s not 100% sure of the protocol, especially when you’re at his place and you don’t have any clean clothes to wear to bed. He gets flustered and goes to see if he can quickly wash your clothes, forgetting the entire wardrobe of clean clothes right there.

All Might or Small Might, his clothes are going to absolutely drown you no matter what size you are. Toshi’s a titan. Any t-shirt you try to borrow is basically a giant nightshirt. 

Toshinori splutters a little at the sight of you swimming in the fabric of one of his shirts. Once he’s done coughing into his elbow, he offers you a toothy grin, his eyes crinkled up.

“That…might be a little big on you,” he says, tugging playfully on all the excess fabric. “Are you sure it’s going to be comfortable?”

You tell him that you like the feeling of the soft, loose fabric, and the fact that it smells a little like his cologne, even after being washed. He’s chuckles at that, wrapping his large hands around your waist, the fabric cinching in against you.

“Well, never thought one of my old shirts could look so adorable.”

[msmk11]

Just Like All the Other Angry Boyfriends Before

James Potter x Hufflepuff!fem!reader

WC: 4.2k

CW: angst; hurt/comfort; fluff; idiots

Summary: Two idiots in love who don’t know how to handle their emotions properly- aka school dance drama

A/n: yall said you wanted this fic even tho I lowkey hate it, so here it is!

Shrill squeals echo through the stone corridor as you make your way to the Great Hall after class. You turn the corner to find a group of girls surrounding Alice Fortescue and Frank Longbottom. Alice is blushing profusely as you hear her declare, “yes I’ll go to the formal with you!”

Frank whoops excitedly and draws Alice into a warm embrace. There are more squeals from the girls, so high pitched you’re sure they’ve shattered your ear drums. As you pass the happy couple, you smile at them warmly and share your congratulations. On the inside, however, you grimace. You’re no antagonist to fun, really, but as the winter formal continues to approach closer and closer, and you are still without a date, you find yourself beginning to reject the idea of any formal at all. It’s not that you have a lack of options either- plenty of people have asked you- but rather, you’ve been holding off in hopes that a certain special someone will.

Begrudgingly, you accept that if you put things off much longer, you will be dateless. And while you’re not necessarily opposed to going alone, you’d rather not when nearly all your friends have dates. Lily has Mary, Marlene has Dorcas, Alice has Frank, and Remus has Sirius.

That leaves you and James.

Although you’re a Hufflepuff, you throw your stuff down onto the Gryffindor table and plop into a seat next to Lily. You huff dejectedly and rest your head on her shoulder, “Why does everyone have to be all happy and in love? It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid honey, you’re just bitter because P-“

You slap your hand over her mouth and glare at her, “SHH there’s people around.”

“Right, sorry,” she replies, prying your hand off her mouth.

“Also…” she pauses and sniffs your hand, “is that a new lotion? What scent is it?”

Before you can answer, you’re interrupted by Mary who sits down on the other side of Lily and kisses her on the cheek.

“Uh, babe, why are you sniffing her hand?”

“I’m not weird, I swear! She’s the one who shoved her hand in my face. I just wanted to know what lotion she was using.”

Mary gives the two of you questioning looks.

“Potter” Lily mouths.

Mary nods in understanding and smirks. She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as she shifts her attention to the raven-haired boy a few seats down.

“Still waiting for him to ask you?”

“Mhmmm.”

“You know, it is the 20th century, you could try asking him for a change.”

“Excellent idea, love! Oi, Potter, come here,” Lily shouts.

You glare at them in panic and mumble, “I hate you both.”

James looks up from his conversation with his friends and slides down the bench towards you.

“We have a very important question for you,” Lily says.

You glare at her once again, “I think Lily here is actually far over exaggerating the importance of the question. I’m sure whatever discussion you were having with Remus, Peter, and Sirius was much more urgent.”

James chuckles, “It’s the opposite actually. Remus and Sirius were arguing over what they are wearing to the formal. So really, you saved me.”

You let out the most pitiful laugh, cursing your luck.

“So… what is this very important question you wanted to ask me?”

You attempt to act nonchalant as you ask him if he has a date for the formal yet.

“Oh, the formal? Not yet, though I have a few options in mind. But if you’re implying you want to go together, I’m totally down.”

You’re pretty sure your heart skips a beat.

“I mean, I don’t want you to go alone while everyone else in the friend group has a date.”

This time, your heart drops.

“Oh, so you don’t mind doing me a favor and taking me to the formal?” You ask, an accusing tone to your voice.

“Right, that’s what friends are for,” he says, innocently.

Nail in the coffin.

“So, let me get this straight. You’ll only go with me because you feel sorry for me and because you don’t think I can get a date to the formal?” you ask angrily.

“No I-“ he begins defensively.

“Well you should know, Potter, that I do have a date to the formal, and I was only asking if you had one because I was worried you were going to be the one going alone.”

“Wait! You’re going with someone?!” He says, shocked.

“Don’t act so surprised. Just because I’m ‘one of the guys’ to you doesn’t mean I’m not desirable to other people,” you retort.

Then, you stand up and snatch your books off the table. As you storm away you hear him yell, “Wait, but who are you going with?”

Great question.

*****

Back in the Hufflepuff dorms, you sit in one of the common room chairs stewing over your recent interaction with James. While your initial reaction was anger, time has led way to more intense feelings of hurt. While he didn’t outwardly reject you, the sting of the friend zone was just as painful. You needed to move on, but with who?

The universe seems to answer your question in the form of Amos Diggory.

Amos Diggory- an arrogant, handsome, girlfriend-stealer, with an intense fear of commitment. He would be perfect.

No foreigner to flirting, you put on your most charming smile and call out, “Hey Diggory…”

He looks in your direction and you motion for him to come sit. He smiles at his friends and shoos them away. As Amos comes and sits down next to you you know that, if this goes according to plan, you will royally piss James off. The two rival in looks and on the quidditch field, and James cannot stand Amos.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says, looking you up and down.

“So, you, uh, have a date to the formal yet?”

“No, I prefer to go alone. So my options are open.”

You smirk teasingly, “What if I can convince you to change your mind?”

Amos smiles at you seductively, “I’m listening.”

“Well, you like to go to these things alone so you can entertain the attentions of many girls. But, if you go with one girl, me, you’ll get even more attention. What is going to happen when all of the girls at Hogwarts think that the Amos Diggory is off the market?”

“You have me intrigued,” he says, “And how are you not in Slytherin with that devious little mind of yours?”

“I prefer to keep it my little secret.”

Then, you lean closer to him, “Though I guess it’s our little secret now.”

Amos is falling perfectly into your trap, and you know that he already wants to kiss you. You pull away before he even gets the chance.

“Before I agree, what’s in this for you?” He asks.

“Revenge on James Potter…”

If your flirting hadn’t fully won him over, this does.

*****

In the evening, you make your way to the Gryffindor common room where you always do homework with your friends. Though James, Peter, and Sirius consistently show up late, you make sure to leave extra early to avoid conversation with James at all costs.

You forget, however, that James sometimes knows you better than you know yourself. So when you arrive, he is already there on the couch, waiting for you. Lily and Remus are spread out on the floor, Mary is sprawled across a red chair, and Dorcas is lying in Marlene’s lap reading her textbook while Marlene writes a paper. James shoots up from his seat as you walk in.

“Hey! Can we talk?” He asks anxiously.

Although they pretend to hide it, you know your friends are secretly listening. Still, you don’t care.

“No, James, we can’t. Although it may be uncharted territory, you and I are in what people call a fight. So just let me be.”

“But shouldn’t we talk?”

“No, James. I don’t want to talk. Not right now.”

The fight leaves his body and he retreats, “fine. I’ll just leave you be.”

He grabs his stuff and goes up to his dorm as you settle yourself in his place.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Remus asks softly.

“Maybe,” you say, “But I’m sick of always downplaying my feelings to protect his. It’s not fair to me.”

Lily grabs your hand, “you’re right, it’s not fair. And I’m sorry for pushing all of this on you, it wasn’t my place.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” Mary adds.

“Well, I’m not. This just encouraged me to get over my silly little crush and focus my attentions on someone who will actually take interest in me. There are plenty of people out there.”

“Hell yeah there are!” Marlene says encouragingly.

Dorcas smacks her arm, “Marlene! James is one of your best friends!”

“So is she! I love them both, but she’s right, she needs to do what’s best for her.”

“Just don’t push him away completely,” Dorcas tells you seriously.

“I won’t,” you sigh, “He‘s still so important to me. It just won’t be in the way that I hoped.”

Silence falls over the group.

“Who fucking died?”

Everyone jumps and turns to look in the direction of the voice. Behind you stands Sirius and Peter, both with perplexed looks on their faces.

“James, after she fucking tore him apart earlier,” Marlene replies, motioning to you.

Peter nods as he plops down by your feet, “Oh right! I heard about that.”

Sirius smacks you upside the head, “Yeah, what was that all about?”

“He basically called me a fucking unattractive loser. What else was I supposed to do?” You say, smacking him back.

“I think you’re over-exaggerating just a little bit,” Mary responds cautiously.

“I mean, I think he was just trying to be nice. Maybe it hurt because he essentially friendzoned you?” Lily adds.

“Wait, do you have a crush on James?” Sirius asks you.

“Sirius, have you really never noticed?” Remus responds disbelievingly.

Sirius only shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, I get it, I get it. James is the perfect golden boy and I’m just another one of Potter’s stupid fangirls who follows him blindly and makes a fool of themselves.”

“Honey no,” Lily starts, “it’s not that it’s-“

“Can you not lecture me, please?” You interrupt, “Maybe I overreacted, but is it so wrong to be angry about being pitied. Especially by someone you really care about?”

“No, it’s not,” Peter tells you, “I get it.”

“Thank you,” you respond dejectedly.

It’s quiet for a moment and you’re stuck stewing in your own self-loathing.

Then, Lily speaks up again, “Uhm, I have one more question, and then I’ll drop the subject.”

You nod, encouraging her to continue.

“Who are you going to take to the formal? Because you told James you had a date, even though you didn’t.”

“Oh, yeah, uhmmm about that…” you say, laughing nervously.

“What rash thing did you do now?” Dorcas asks.

“I may or may not have asked Amos Diggory to be my date to the dance…. And he said yes.”

Marlene laughs loudly, “Oh shit!”

*****

To avoid conflict, you decide that it’s best for you to go to the formal with Amos and his friends rather than string him along with yours. Tension is already high between James and you, and you know Amos’ being there would only make things worse. You try to push it out of your mind, but you can’t help wondering who James is taking to the formal with him. You picture all the prettier, smarter, and better girls he could be going with, and your stomach begins to ache. You are also worried about what people will say in relation to you going with Amos.

Your thoughts start to spiral. Will people hate you? Will James hate you? Is your dress all wrong? Will you be the worst dressed there? The anxieties are endless and there seems to be no relief in sight.

Still, you push through and doll yourself up, masking your true feelings behind layers of hairspray, makeup, and itchy fabric. Your dress is light blue with a silvery sheer fabric over top, like fresh snow on a frozen lake. The top half is form-fitting with silvery straps, and the bottom spreads outward in a loose skirt. You twist back the front strands of your hair with silver clips and adorn your face with light makeup and shimmery eyeshadow. At promptly eight you drag yourself to the common room where Amos sits with his friends and their dates.

You put on a fake smile, “Amos, you look handsome.”

He looks you up and down, “I know. And you look hot.”

What a gentleman.

You say a polite thank you and avoid some of the stares you’re getting from the other girls. You can tell that some are jealous already, yet they maintain outward politeness, which you’re grateful for.

Amos, at least, extends his arm, which you grab, as you walk towards the Great Hall. Your walk is filled with polite conversation about simple things from quidditch, to class, and plans for the holidays. So far, it’s not as bad as you thought, though you wished you would have just gone dateless with your friends.

You cast these regrets aside, however, when you arrive at your destination. To no one’s surprise, the Hogwarts decorating committee has outdone themselves once again. The typical long, wooden tables are gone and in place is a magnificent white dance floor that seems to shimmer like the snow. Warm, golden globes of light hang from the sky and snowflakes fall from above, though never reaching the ground. The room is an explosion of silvers, whites, and blues, and you’re sure you’ve stepped into a winter wonderland.

“This is just-“ Amos begins.

“Wow” you finish, “Like a winter wonderland.”

“And you’re its queen,” he says.

You blush in spite of yourself.

“Compliments won’t get you a kiss so soon,” you tease, “It’s only eight.”

He bites his lip, “fine. But I can only restrain myself from a beautiful girl so long.”

You laugh lightly and swat him on the shoulder. Then, music begins to play.

Amos motions towards the dance floor, “shall we?”

*****

As James adjusts his tie in the mirror, he can’t help but think about what a pathetic loser he is. Although he’d had plenty of girls who he could have gone to the formal with, he continued to wait, assuming there would be someone better coming along. Who that person was, he wasn’t sure. But now, he was alone.

And then there was you. He doesn't know what happened. One second you two were fine, and then suddenly, you blew up. While he knows that he insulted you, he can’t understand why you are so angry. Sirius said not to overthink it, that girls are just complicated, but you are one of his best friends. He knows there is something else going on and it’s left a terrible pit in his stomach.

“Earth to James!”

“Huh?” He awakes from his trance and notices that Peter is waving his hand in front of his face.

“You ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah.”

They head downstairs and meet up with the rest of the group- Pete and his girl from Ravenclaw, Sirius and Remus, Marlene and Dorcas, Mary and Lily, and you-

Not present because he is an ass.

James wonders who you’re going with.

They all cheer loudly, “James, you look great!”

“Thanks, guys, but it’s you all that look great.”

“Hell yeah we do!” Sirius exclaims.

Everyone laughs and begins to file out the portrait hole down to the Great Hall. Despite being the only dateless friend, James’ spirits are lifted by their jokes and ramblings. When they reach the dance, everyone oohs and aahs over the shimmery decorations. Instantly, James cranes his neck, looking for you in the crowd as he walks with the group towards a table off to the left. As they all set their stuff down, the music begins to play and couples rush to the floor. His friends join them, excited to dance.

“James, you coming?” Sirius asks.

He shakes his head, “next song.”

Sirius shrugs and walks off with Remus. James continues to search the crowd, looking for you. He realizes he doesn’t know what you’re wearing- and he supposes he never asked. James wonders if best friends are supposed to do that sort of thing.

Probably.

It hits him, then. With everything that’s been going on lately- being head boy, quidditch captain, and taking ridiculously hard classes, he’d sort of ignored you. It’s no wonder you’re so angry with him.

James feels totally guilty until he sees you. It’s then, he realizes, that he has a reason to be angry too. There you are, after all his moping and worrying, with Amos fucking Diggory. James knows that he hasn’t been the best of friends lately, but Diggory? That was his rival! You were crossing a line.

But what really bothers him the most is the way you’re laughing at something Diggiry said. He is hardly funny, and has the personality of a piece of paper. And why are you leaning so close to him? He’s not even that attractive or charming.

As you swirl across the dance floor, he watches how your hands hold tightly to Diggory’s shoulders, like he’s your anchor. James also notices Diggory’s hands around your waist, far too close to your ass, and his blood boils. No way would he let his rival feel up his friend.

When the song ends, James begins to stalk towards you two, but is pushed backwards by Sirius and Remus.

“Not worth it mate,” Sirius warns.

“But Padfoot, this is unbelievable. She is unbelievable. How could she ever agree to go with him? She knows how much I hate him, and is just trying to get back at me.”

“Mate, it’s this type of thinking that pushed her into his arms,” Remus mumbles.

“What, what do you mean?”

“James, she asked him to the formal after you basically made her feel like shit. Whether she realized it or not, she turned to who she thought would hurt you the most. She wanted you to feel what she was feeling, even a little bit.”

“It’s not her best decision, but ignoring her wasn’t yours either,” Sirius adds.

James rubs his face tiredly, “God, I know.”

Sirius pats his back, “Just… take a few minutes and then come join us. Don’t let it ruin your night.”

“And while you’re sitting here, maybe reflect a little more on why you’re so upset,” Remus adds.

“Rem-” Sirius says with a warning tone.

He puts his hands up defensively, “I didn’t say anything. Let’s go.”

As they walk away James notices their slight bickering. He laughs at them in spite of himself. Secretly, he’s always been a little bit jealous of their relationship. Though they are far from perfect, they’re comfortable with each other in a way that he can only hope for. He thinks the fact that they were friends for five years before they dated helped. There’s this trust and friendship that is so necessary in order to support the love and passion that comes with romance.

As another song ends, James decides not to get up from his seat. He watches Amos and you some more. While his blood is still boiling, there is a twinge of something else.

“Maybe reflect a little more on why you’re upset.”

*****

Surprisingly, you’re having more fun with Amos than you thought you would. While you would never date him, you appreciate his company tonight. He’s been making you laugh all night, so you’re surprised when another song comes on and he suddenly gets serious.

“You know, gorgeous, I’m not one to waste my time on Potter, but he’s been glaring in our direction for the past fifteen minutes.”

“Just ignore him.”

“I would, but it’s kind of hard when he is burning holes into my head.”

You huff apologetically, “God, I’m so sorry. I hope it’s not ruining your night.”

“Eh, I’m used to Potter throwing temper tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants. He’s clearly just mad he’s not dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room.”

“Pfft, yeah right. He’s just mad that I’m dancing with you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Can I give you my honest opinion?”

You hum in agreement.

“As I’m sure you know, I have a reputation for girlfriend stealing.”

“Yes? And?” You say, confused.

“Well, with stealing girlfriends also comes a lot of angry boyfriends. And Potter over there, he looks exactly like all the angry boyfriends I’ve dealt with, who want to beat the shit out of me.”

“Which makes no sense, because he doesn’t act like a boyfriend whenever we’re together. It’s not fucking fair. He doesn’t want me, but it’s like he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.”

“Listen to me. I may not know what the fuck is going on with you two, but it’s pretty clear to anyone that you guys both have feelings for each other. So, as your date, I think it's my duty to end ours early. We both achieved our goals- all the girls in the room want me, and Potter can’t take his eyes off of you.”

You release a shaky sigh, “Okay, fine.”

As the song ends he releases you and gives you a wink, “Well, for now, this is goodbye. Since I’m sure you’ll be Potter’s girlfriend by the end of the night, I imagine we are going to be mortal enemies from now on. Or until graduation at least.”

You chuckle a little as you straighten his tie one last time.

“Go get him,” he says.

You stand up on your tip toes and kiss him on the cheek, “Bye Diggory. Next time I speak to you, you better be settled down with a nice girl, at 9 ¾, with your rowdy kids for their first year of school.”

He laughs and you part ways for the night. Before you allow yourself to approach James, you walk outside to the courtyard nearby. You lean up against the railing and look out towards the stars. The cool breeze fills your lungs and is comfortable against your hot skin. It’s silent except for the soft notes of music drifting out from the Great Hall.

“So, you and Diggory huh?”

You jump at James’ voice and turn to him, “Yep, and you and the invisible girl. I thought you were Mr. Hotshot, with plenty of girls lined up as possible dates?”

“And I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal.”

You scoff, “It wasn’t personal, James. Just a silly little date to a silly little formal.”

“Bullshit” he yells, “You were mad so you went and found a date that you knew I would hate!”

“God, you are so conceited! Not everything is about you. Maybe I just liked Amos’ company. He’s not all that bad, you know.”

“Oh, so now you’re defending him? Next thing I know there’ll be wedding bells.”

“Maybe there will be. He’s funny, attractive, and actually gives me the time of day!” you retort.

“Just so he can get you into his bed, fuck you, and then ignore you after,” James shouts back.

You stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“I mean, Merlin, is that really what you want? I know it's not my place to give my opinion about who you date or-”

“And that’s the whole problem,” you interrupt.

“What?”

“James, you're my best friend. I want your opinion about these things- even if I don’t always want to hear it. It at least shows you care about me. Lately, it’s like I don’t even exist.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. You deserve better. A better friend and…” he steps a little closer, “a better romantic interest?”

You let out a small laugh, “romantic interest?”

“What? If this night has shown me anything, I clearly don’t know what- or who- you’re looking for in romance. And that’s on me. But I want that to change from now on.”

You take a deep breath and step even closer to him. You look up into his hazel eyes, your faces so close your noses are almost touching.

“Well, in the name of change, I guess I have to confess, I do have a romantic interest… in you.”

“And as a part of my duties as your best friend, I believe it my responsibility to tell you that… you should go for it.”

Already so close together, you merely stand on your tip toes and lock lips with James. He kisses back and puts his hands around your waist. For a second, he pulls away.

You look up at him with questioning eyes.

His grip on your waist tightens, “I don’t ever want another man’s hands here ever again. It was driving me crazy tonight, the way Amos was touching you.”

You smirk at him, “Jealous are we?”

He grunts in affirmation and pulls you in again. The kiss lasts a few minutes with you up against the railing. At first it’s fast and passionate. But with time it becomes slower and more sweet. More loving.

Eventually, you slowly pull apart. You look at him softly and ask breathlessly, “So, do you have a date to the formal yet?”

[lilacqiqis]

"Darling"

naruto, kakashi, obito(non massacre), hinata, itachi(non massacre), sasuke, sai

Scenario: getting casually called darling by their crush

A/N: pls send in Naruto reqs I'm starving to write stuff, also finally decided to give characters specific emojis LMAO last post i made i randomly gave them emojis 😭 Writing this at 3 AM sorry if it's ass -mod Lilac

TW: none, GN!reader

more under the cut

🌱 Naruto isn't used to romantic affection from people, let alone his crush, so his reaction when you call him "darling" is a huge gaping mouth and stuttering as he tries to process what you said

🌱 "W-wait!! Whuh?! Huhhh?!! Whaddja call me?!"

🌱 Whether it's a joke or not he has a dorky smile after as he laughs, the pet name making him feel warm inside. He probably will try and call you a pet name back afterwards, hoping you'll like it just as much as he did.

🌱 Goes to brag to all his friends the next day. "Hey hey! Guess what?! S/O called me DARLING!!" Nobody really cares too much honestly, they think he's overreacting or even lying.

🌾 A stoic man he is, that Kakashi. Not much can get him flustered, besides reading Icha Icha of course.

🌾 He usually can keep his feelings hidden away from his crush, treating you like any of his other friends, but when you call him darling? Lucky that he's wearing a mask because you'd be able to see the huge blush forming on his face.

🌾 He'd try not to react too much, his eye slightly widening and body tensing up when the word hits him. It felt so... Natural? The pet name came off your tongue so nicely that Kakashi can't help but want to hear it more.

🌾 Wouldn't comment on it, but may bring it up in the future to tease you. Perhaps to get back at them he'll also call you a romantic pet name... Nah, he's too nervous to do that, if he was that bold he'd go and just confess already!

🌺 Like Naruto, Obito is flabbergasted. He's liked you for gods who knows how long and you can just casually call him that while he becomes a mess just hugging you?

🌺 His head whips towards you so quickly as he stares at you with wide eyes. How is he supposed to react to this?! Does this mean you like him...? Did you even mean this romantically in the first place? Do you call other people that too?!

🌺 His mind is running and he just kinda... Stares at you in awe. Don't let him down by telling him it was just a joke when he questions you later, he'll be devastated.

🌺 Obito will try and be confident, calling you an affectionate pet name as well but all that comes out is stuttering.

🌺 "Heheh... I think so too, s... S-sweet... Sw-sweethEART OKIMGOINGTOGONOWBYES/O"

🌻 Goes absolutely red. Hinata already gets embarrassed by little gestures so something like getting called darling is sure to make her pass out!

🌻 Did you really mean that? She hopes so! That small name made her day, and she won't ever forget about it<3

🌻 Of course, she's still too shy to admit her feelings to you. If that was your way of confessing you'd be dumb to not see that she obviously likes you too... You'd probably be dumb to not notice her behavior before, after all Hinata isn't very good at hiding her feelings towards you.

🌻 She wouldn't realize it's a confession of your attraction if that was your motive, so please be more blunt with her.

🌙 If you think he wouldn't remember, he will. Itachi is a romantic individual, though not as much before a relationship. He takes note of everything S/O says, and will try to hint towards his feelings through small actions and words.

🌙 Absolutely loves it. Itachi will think about the pet name, wondering if you'd mind if he called you that as well. Maybe you'd get embarrassed that you're getting a taste of your own medicine? It's not the humiliation part Itachi would enjoy, but he'd love to see your flustered face.

🌙 Doesn't make a huge fuss when you call him darling, probably doesn't even say anything about it, but has a small smile while thinking about it.

🌙 Will begin to also call you pet names!! It depends on how close you are, but if you two are good friends he'll return your affection. You two probably end up having a lot of romantic tension while everybody suffers watching wondering if one of you two will finally confess or not...

🪻 Sasuke loves hates it. Do NOT call him that cheesy warm and gooey shit, he will scoff at you then turn his head away. jk he just has an ego to protect

🪻 Hates how it makes him feel. That disgusting ticklish feeling he gets in his stomach and the heat in his face makes him feel weak and vulnerable, so stop that. This is just as bad as a genjutsu and he doesn't like it one bit!

🪻 In reality though, Sasuke adores being called darling. He's just... Really bad at dealing with affection you know? He doesn't know how to react and the feeling of love is so foreign to him, so his only way of reacting is acting like he hates it in hopes of ridding his feelings. (Spoiler alert:it doesn't help one bit.)

🪻 You can catch him with a soft blush and tiny smirk on his face if you can catch a glance before he turns his head. Quit being such a loser and just accept it, Sasuke!

🪶 This was mentioned in his book, so Sai should act accordingly, right? He'll begin to also call you pet names, and he probably already did before you due to the fact he read a book saying he should...

🪶 Doesn't quite understand the meaning behind the sweet names but he's trying his best

🪶 It makes him happy though, being able to connect with you... Someone he enjoys being around so much, someone who he feels he has a "special" bond with.

🪶It creeps into your twos friendship, and before you know it you two are acting like a married couple with all your affectionate behavior.

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (felix mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Previous Pt. 3

Pt. 4

Next Pt. 5 (last part)

!Warnings: angst, reader is confused about their feelings, Chan gets pushed away (no actual harm done!), fake!texts, swearing (lmk if i missed anything)

Side-Note: *does a happy twerk dance bc I actually came up w something even tho my brain is fried rn* No but rlly, I didn't even want to do a 5th part but I had to find a way on making it work between them and this part turned out to be too long☝🏽😞💔💔💔💔💔💔 now I'm heartbroken... ANYWAY ENJOY

It's been 2 days. 2 days and you already miss him. It's not that he doesn't deserve it, but you really just want to hug him right now.

You've spent the last 2 days, crying in your bed and not a single text message from chan. The other members did message you, but you only want one from him...you know you told him not to message you, but it's his fault in the first place.

You stood up and got out of bed. Maybe unboxing my stuff will get me on other ideas, you thought to yourself and made your way to the living room, taking your time unboxing and placing your items on the furniture you bought weeks before.

Everything went well and your mood brightened up till you got to one specific box. The box, filled with Polaroid pics from your date, loveletters and poetries written by chan for you and more. You just stare at them for a while, but then decide to close the box and take a nice warm bath, maybe then you'll relax for a bit and not think of him.

You went to your bathroom, and turned the bathtub water on, taking off your clothes next. You take some bathing salt and a bath bomb out of your cabinet, throw them in the half filled bathtub and step inside. You've nearly melted at the feeling of the hot, but not too hot water on you skin. Since you're together with chan, you've barely looked after yourself, you nearly forgot how good it felt to just spend you time and have no one else around and suddenly, it wasn't that bad that chan isn't around anymore. You actually felt, relived, so you just close your eyes and relax....

xxxxxx

You must have fallen asleep, because when you open your eyes, the water was cold. You've rubbed your eyes, washed yourself, wrapped your body in a bathrobe and left the bathroom. You yawn out and went straight to your room, when you hear your phone vibrate. Someone is blowing up your phone and in the back of your head, you wished that it's the person, it actually is. Chan.

You throw your phone on your bed and walk over to your wardrobe and bang your head against it. What. The. Actual. Fuck Y/l/n Y/n. Why would you possibly ask HIM, to come into your apartment after you told him you wanted space???

You grab some clothes out of your wardrobe, flinching as you turn around, as someone widely bangs open the door to your bedroom.

"Y/n?! Y/N!" chan screams, excited and runs over to you like an excited puppy, just to stop in his tracks as he remembers that you warned him not to touch you, so he stands still in front of you, with a giant smile on his face.

"Get out of my room. Can't you see i'm changing right now?" you coldly reply to him, fighting your inner demons to not jump right in his arms and hug him. His smile drops and he just blinks at you confused, which nearly breaks your heart. How is it possible that he was so mean to you, but is also so freaking cute which makes it so hard to hate him? "I-I don't understand.. why do I have to go out, it never was a problem to you-" "Do you want me to kick you out of the apartment instead?" you ask, as you walk over to your bed.

"NO, no i'll leave.." Chan lowly responds, walking out of the room. You weren't going to risk him calling you clingy again, for changing while he's in the same room, not happening.

xxxxx

After you've changed into something comfortable, you've asked him to come back inside and sit next to you on your bed, with a good amount of space, which Chan stared at with a questioning look, but didn't comment it any further.

"So? Why are you here?" you started asking, "I mean, why did you come to my apartment. If you came to just apologize, you can go again, because what you said needs more than an apology. Just because you'll feel better after apologising doesn't mean-" "-Doesn't mean that it's actually okay, I know baby.." Chan interrupts you, as he stared down at your arms "Can I...hug you?" "Excuse me?" you ask confused. Since when does he ask if he can hug you..? "I mean, sure I guess" you just say and with that Chan grabs you by you waist with one hand, putting his other hand, securingly on your neck, hugging you. You were about to hug him back, but stop midway.

Why did you just stop? Isn't that what you wanted? He's here now so why don't you hug him? Could it be that you're...scared? Scared that he might think you're actually clingy and annoying? Scared of that he'll push you away if you make a move? Or are you...

"You smell so good...i missed you so much..." chan's words pull you out of your thoughts, as you push him off. He looks at you, confused. Why did you suddenly push him off? "Wh-" "You should go." "Wha- But why.." "Please Chris just go." "Can I at least get a kiss-" "GEEZ CHRIS JUST GO!" you yell. You didn't intentionally yell at him, but you needed some time for yourself to collect your thoughts, and he's only in the way.

"Please...just go" you mumble out, and Chan stares at you for a while, before standing up from the bed. "I'll text you when I'm home" he casually says, with a hint of sadness in his voice. He mumbles out a quick and quiet >>I'm sorry, for everything<< out, and makes his way out of the apartment.

What was wrong with you? You've missed him so much so why would you not hug him back? Why would you ask him to go? And why...why didn't you kiss him?... You've loved to do it before....so why not now?..

What....was wrong with you?

Are you really...

As clingy as he said?

⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺

@stay-tiny-things @finnbbl @emilyywhyy @wolfs-howling @justastraymoa @loveyouamory @muraae @callmekdab @seungquokka @vive-la-v-i-d-a @sunghoonnolgy

[klovesyall]

Oh my. My brain is full of ideas, but I can't write.

Spencer, but it's his first time showering with his gf? Either she casually invites him to join her, or maybe she's also a member of the BAU and was injured and needs some assistance?

AN: oh absolutely hun. I wasn’t sure if you wanted nsfw or fluff so I went with fluff for a safe option. Also I’m so sorry if this lowkey sucks. This is definitely my first rodeo with writing and I know it’s not perfect but I hope you kinda like it?

OK MORE RECENT AN: im sooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this took so long. I don’t even have an excuse. And I’m so sorry because this is ASS. But I feel bad not giving you anything so here you go

Warnings: Fluff, swearing? , talk of nakedness and stuff idk

————————————————————

Spencer had been extra protective of you ever since you got hurt. He didn’t want you to lift a single finger, even though you were perfectly capable. He made you food , carried your bags, hell- he even offered to carry you if your crutches got too annoying. All of this to say , he was willing to do anything to make you comfortable.

“Spence, I’m gonna take a shower.” You say with your back turned as you grab some pajamas out of the dresser drawer.

“What?” His voice was filled with concern, as it often was. When you turned around toward him he had the same amount of concern written on his face

“I have to shower Spencer, my hair is so dirty it looks wet.” You haven’t washed your hair in a few days, relying on dry shampoo and braided hair to get you by.

Spencer was thinking for a moment , you could tell by the way his brow furrowed slightly. He finally answers “Let me help you.”

You were slightly taken aback by his response. Spencer wasn’t usually confident enough to initiate or out right suggest anything intimate. And taking a shower together was definitely intimate. Not to say you were opposed to the idea though

“Are You Sure Spence? You do know I shower naked right?” Your tone was some what joking but also kind of not. Regardless you hear the little chuckle you love so much

“Yes I know. I dont want you to fall and get hurt any more than you already are. If you don’t want me to thats fine I just-“

You cut him off

“That would be really helpful, thank you.”

You see Spencer’s worry ease from his face and it’s replaced with a little curve of his lip

You give him a little smile before returning to grabbing your pajamas and walking to the bathroom. Spencer graciously follows you inside, locking the door behind him. When you turn to the counter , Spencer is quick to slip past you, turning on the shower for you.

“Do you take your showers warm or hot.” Spencer asks as if it’s so incredibly normal

“Uh hot I guess? It’s ok I can-“

He stops you when you begin to walk over

“Let me Take Care of you. Please.”

You sigh “you know I can do it myself.”

Spencer takes a step toward you, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders

“I know, but I don’t want to risk anything. You do so much for me and you deserve to be helped as well, especially when your injured. So please let me do this for you.” His voice is soft but you can tell how strongly he feels about this

“Ok, I’ll let you handle it.” I say

He smiles “can I take your clothes off?”

I Nod “You don’t have to ask.” You said that a lot, and it didn’t matter how many times you did. Spencer always asked

He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and you raised your arms. He pulls the shirt off your body and folds it before placing it on the counter. He does the same with your pants. Your standing only in your underwear now

“Do you want me to do the rest?” You ask

He shakes his head “turn around for me.”

You turn so your back is facing him and he unclasps your bra, sliding it down your arms until it hits the floor. He hooks a finger under your underwear on either side of you, pulling them down and helping you step out of them. He smiles when he meets your eyes again

“See something you like pretty boy?” You raise an eye brow in a teasing manner.

“Always.” He replies before walking you over to the shower. Holding his hand, you slowly take a step inside until your under the water. Once inside , Spencer takes a step back and sheds his clothes as well before joining you in the shower.

Spencer had ensured that you had a shower bench installed into the bathroom you shared when you moved in together. He said it was for safety reasons but, you still wondered if it might be for other things.

“Sit.” Spencer says, leading you to the bench.

When you sit down he detaches the shower head and wets your hair. When it’s what he considers wet enough, he lathers shampoo into his hands and begins to massage it into your scalp.

This man has very capable hands, many uses. And washing your hair just got added to the list of them. You close your eyes from a moment letting out a contended sigh

“Feel good sweetheart?” Spencer asks gently

“Mhm, definitely.” You reply, barely opening your eyes.

Spencer rinses out the shampoo and conditions your hair. He helps you wash off and when you finally stand , you wrap your arms around his neck. His hands lace around your waist

“Thank you Spencer, you’re an angel.” You say pressing little kisses to his jaw. You can see the blush creeping on Spencer’s face.

“You’re welcome, I’m always happy to help you.” He says peering down at you.

The two of you exit the shower. Wrapping towels around your selves and getting dressed- well Spencer refuses to let you dress your self so he helps you. He even blow drys your hair for you because he knows you don’t like going to bed with it wet.

————————————————————

You lay in bed on your side facing him as he looks back at you. You reach out and brush a strand of his hair out of his eyes.

“You should stay home tomorrow.” Spencer says breaking the silence.

“Absolutely not. I’m perfectly capable of going into work. Plus Hotch would have my head if I didn’t go.” You say and Spencer sighs

“I don’t like the idea of you out on the field” he says once again with concern

“You’ll be with me. I’ll be fine.”

He sits up “I don’t want you to be fine I want you to be healthy.”

You sit up and scoot close to him “Spencer I’m going to work. If it makes you feel better I’ll stay back with Penelope and help her.”

Spencer relaxes a little “yea. Ok that makes me feel better. But don’t go doing anything stupid. That means no trying to entertain Penelope with” Spencer throws up air quotes “crutch tricks”

You groan and lay back down “whatever you say.”

You can hear Spencer’s little laugh as he turns off the lamp.

[livwritesstuff]

you know that feeling where you’re having a god-awful day and all you really want is a hug but you’re at work so, like, that’s not gonna happen, and you basically just have to stew in all those shitty feelings and wait out the clock? yeah, me too, that’s kind of where this came from.

Eddie had a tough day.

It had started early that morning when the girls missed their school bus – not a huge deal, honestly, he was already gonna be leaving early to go get his car looked at.

But then he got shitty news from the mechanic, and then a meeting with his agent didn’t go the way he’d wanted at all, and then Hazel ended up being a total pain in the ass after he picked her up from kindergarten, and during her relentless haranguing, she knocked one of Eddie’s favorite mugs off the counter. It shattered, obviously, and she cried about it so he’d had to deal with both of those things at once, and it was just a day.

None of it was anything he couldn’t handle – the problem was the compounding nature of it and the way he basically just had to stew in it all until the next obstacle came along and made shit even worse.

All Eddie really wanted was Steve, and how Steve being around made dealing with this stuff so much easier, even if every other circumstance was the same.

He has to share Steve, though, and today he’s sharing him with Steve’s work until four o’clock.

It’s fine.

He can wait until four.

The older two girls got off their bus at half-past three, and, seriously, someone must have put something in the water this morning because they are in rare goddamn form today. If Hazel alone was bad, all three of them together were…well, thrice that. It’s like the universe said I see your bad day and I raise you three elementary schoolers hitting their peak annoyance thresholds simultaneously.

And it’s not like Eddie can even fucking fold, either.

It’s cold and kind of windy outside, which is Eddie’s least favorite weather and he’d thought maybe the girls would want to go right inside, but no. Of course they want to dig out the chalk that got stashed away in the garage last fall, and while Eddie is stuck shivering outside breaking up dumb arguments about who’s allowed to use which colors (he figured the answer was an obvious everyone, but apparently that’s incorrect), Steve leaves a message saying he tacked on an emergency session onto the end of his day and now he’s not out until five.

Eddie doesn’t hear it until he’s back inside, obviously, but when he does it’s like someone ran a whole fucking dagger through his chest.

He’s halfway through making dinner when Steve gets home (he’d actually be done making dinner if the pot of water hadn’t boiled off while he’d dealt with yet another stupid argument), and he drops everything to meet him at the door.

It’s like Steve can tell in an instant the kind of day Eddie had.

“What happened?” he asks as he toes off his shoes.

Eddie shakes his head, “Everything…nothing…I don’t even know. Just…one of those days.”

Steve nods his understanding, and as soon as he’s got his coat hung up he’s pulling Eddie into a hug.

It ends up being kind of a bone-crushing one — that’s on Eddie, though. He’d just fucking needed it. He knows he’d needed it when Steve’s arms tighten around his shoulders and he feels that much better.

“You okay?” Steve asks without letting him go, the breath of his words hitting warm against Eddie’s neck.

“Just tired,” he answers.

Steve pulls away.

“You can take a break, Ed,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes – not concern, exactly, but more like awareness, “I’ll be up in a bit.”

Eddie just nods and heads for the stairs. As he goes, he faintly hears Steve asking, “What the hell did you guys do to Dad today?”, followed by the girls’ defensive protests.

In their room, Eddie makes it through one full rerun of Star Trek and then the first few minutes of a second before Steve joins him.

He notices that it’s quiet downstairs for the first time that evening, and he tries not to take it too personally. He’s always been comfortable in the knowledge that Steve might be better at the whole parenting thing than him (psych degrees and all that), but, shit, if he’s that much better…

“What’d you do, strangle them?” Eddie asks as Steve swaps his jeans out for a pair of faded plaid pajama pants.

“No, I told them that if I hear a single peep in the next hour I’m beheading all their stuffed animals.”

Eddie blinks.

Okay, maybe better isn’t exactly the right word.

“So they’re on verbal lockdown, basically,” Steve finishes.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, “You’re kind of crazy.”

“Yeah, well, you were always gonna rub off on me one of these days — don’t.”

And Eddie couldn’t help the way he threw his head back and laughed.

[princessbrunette]

good morning princess!!!! or evening or afternoon!!!

i fell asleep last night thinking about sleepy sex with jj, maybe he came to bed late or you just had a nap but the thought of him just sliding into bed behind you, all warm and soft, pressing kisses to your sleep-warm skin, pulling your ass back against his hips <333 murmuring in your ear between kisses about how warm you are n how much he missed you and how he much he NEEDS YOU !!

needless to say i had a great sleep teehee

-🐀

good afternoon!

⊹ ׅ ۫ ꒰১ ˖ ˚ ♡ ˚ ˖ ໒꒱ ۫ ׅ ⊹

with jj, he wants you to suggest it. even if he’s dying to get himself inside of you— his pride will always make him touch on you just enough so that you come across more eager than he does. he wakes you when he climbs into the bed— drinking up as much of your warmth as he can as he stuffs his chin in the crook between your shoulder and neck whilst pushing his hands up your camisole. the weight of his bulge on your ass is comforting and familiar almost, and your half awake brain doesn’t really process his intentions when he pushes it against you.

“so, i did not mean to be gone all day.” he apologises, an octave above a whisper. “are you mad?”

you ask yourself, and you’re not— honestly. sometimes things just come up, it also didn’t help that you were barely awake, the feeling of his body against yours making it hard to be mad at anything.

“no, just glad you’re back.” you whisper, and he kisses your cheek in relief, pulling you even tighter against him. you think that’s gonna be the end of conversation and he’s going to let you doze off once more but he speaks again.

“i missed you today, real bad. kept turnin’ around thinking i was gonna see your lil face beside me and then i’d remember you weren’t there.” he chats quietly as his fingers dip into your waistband. he doesn’t go lower, just keeps his hand tucked there, drawing back to press a kiss to your back.

“mhm.” you respond clearly half asleep, so a hand creeps up towards your tit.

“missed touchin’ on you, mama.” he presses another kiss, and then you start to wake up. something else wakes up too, and now you’re pushing your ass back against him. “there she is.”

“m’sleepy.” you remind him, and he gently rolls you onto your back, pressing kisses in the dark to your tired parted lips.

“oh i’ll be so gentle. treat you like a real princess.” he continues kissing and touching until its like his body finds your passcode and your legs fall open for him. “just so warm… how can i be expected to resist this? just cruel, babydoll.” he murmurs, dragging his lips down your chest making you arch a little off the bed.

“just take it.” slips out your mouth on his descent downwards.

“hm?” he coo’s, focused on massaging your hips and slowly dragging your panties down.

“j’st take what you want.” you mewl, shuddering now that the blankets had been taken away from you. he licks his lips, glancing up at you once your panties are down past your knees.

“you know just what i wanna hear, dont’cha sweetie?”

⊹ ׅ ۫ ꒰১ ˖ ˚ ♡ ˚ ˖ ໒꒱ ۫ ׅ ⊹

[iwantscarlettandlizzie]

Comfort

Summary: When soleil is craving comfort she can only receive from her love, Wanda makes sure she knows she can always have it.

Word count: 1178

Warnings: Mostly fluff again, mention of family issues.

Since it’s still quite early in our relationship, i stay at home right now, instead of in their house. If Natasha isn’t home for the night, Wanda does ask me to stay because she doesn’t like to be alone, but that’s a rare occurrence.

That fact makes days like this even harder. You see, Wanda has asked me if I’d stay tonight, because Natasha was still supposed to be on a mission and she was feeling lonely. But it turns out she got home early, and now that means I can’t stay over, I was of course still welcome to go see them- just not stay over.

Normally this would be okay, I get it, they’re wives and I’m new. However, I’ve had a really awful day, and I don’t want to be around my family anymore. They always make me feel like I’m not enough, like I’m in the way, and unwanted. Then the added reminder of I’m not even the main part of my own relationship just made me spiral.

Sometimes it’s so annoying that Wanda is magic, this sort of thing I never want to bother others with, yet she has the ability to feel it anyway.

Wanda

don’t overthink it sunshine

Okay so she knows I want her, I just want her close, to hold me and make me feel like I belong somewhere. She said not to overthink it, so I can go see her, right?

Whether I felt good about it or not I couldn’t stop myself from instantly leaving and making my way to their home.

It doesn’t take too long, since I’m practically running there. Getting to the door, panting and out of breath. I compose myself, and knock on the door.

When the door swings open, it’s Natasha and I don’t even know how to react. I’m quite literally out of words and can’t even speak. My mouth just opening and closing, making me look like a fish, and a total idiot.

I do see a smirk across her face when I finally look up, but thankfully for me, Wanda is now right beside her- ready to greet me, “Hey detka, it’s so lovely to see you!” She has a massive smile on her face, and she speaks at the same time as she reaches out to stroke some of my hair behind my ear.

Feeling too nervous to even speak, knowing my voice would shake, I simply give them a wave. Chuckling in response, the couple move out of the way, Wanda gently grabbing one of my hands to lead my inside. I’m sure I hear Nat mumble to Wanda “Is she always this cute?” And I know I flush bright red because Wanda strokes a finger across my cheek- then pinches it.

Wanda keeps hold of my hand until we all end up in their living room, Nat and Wanda both sitting down on one of their smaller couches, definitely not leaving space for me, yet Wanda still hadn’t let go of my hand. I shake our combined hands, expecting her to let go and let me go sit on the other couch. But to my surprise she gently pulls me by the hand, towards her.

At my confused look, she smiles up at me, patting her lap with her other hand, “Sit my sweet sunshine.” I blush at her suggesting possibly to sit on her lap, mumbling a quiet “Where?”

The way she looks at me all soft makes my head melt, “On my lap, silly girl. Sit on mommy’s lap baby.” I give a slow nod, and let her pull me to sit on her lap sideways, making me face Natasha.

I’m a little tense at first, not used to being so open about these acts. Even with just Wanda alone really, yes we’ve done stuff but nothing as intimate or relationship like as this. Feeling her warm hands alternate between rubbing my back, and arm, and then playing with my hair- makes me feel all warm inside. Not to mention the way she pulls my head close to her neck, so she can lean against me and kiss my head.

I let her hold me close, overwhelmed by receiving what I needed, by not even having to ask for it. Wanda and Nat are talking about something but I’m so in my head I don’t even know what they’re talking about. I’m simply leaning my weight onto Wanda’s body and trying not to cry.

I realised I must’ve failed when Natasha reaches out and brushes a gentle finger under my eye. She doesn’t get involved a lot, and Wanda told me it’s because she needs a lot of time to get used to someone before she can be herself or soft.

After that thought, I can’t help but start crying softly, digging my head into Wanda’s chest as I mumble my apologies. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” In response she just gently shushes me and holds me as close as she can “shhh shhh I got you baby, I got you, we’re here.”

I don’t notice Nat slips away as I’m being coddled by Wanda, that’s until my back is gently rubbed and I hear a whisper by my ear “Come and lay down sweet love, get some rest with us.”

I sniffle and pull away from Wanda’s chest, Nat keeps her hand on my back making me feel all warm, and Wanda gives me a sweet smile before wiping my tears. She says, “Let’s go get all snuggled up for the night, huh?”

My voice is hoarse and rough from crying today, and I let out a quiet and vulnerable “Me?”

I see Wanda eyes turn a little sad as she nods, but the voice I hear is Nat “You need us, and we’re here. We’re not leaving now, okay?”

Without even waiting for a response they gently lift me and shift me into Nat’s arms because she’s stronger. I’m shocked she wants to carry me up or hold me in general, but I’m thankful she’s making me feel so safe.

I snuggle into her neck and press one gentle kiss in thanks, and receive a kiss to the forehead from her. Her hands under my bottom to hold me up properly.

Wanda follows us up the stairs, and it doesn’t take long for me to be placed down in the middle of the bed, with both of them climbing in and cuddling up to each side of me. Wanda pulls me to lay against her chest, as Nat gently holds me from behind- throwing an arm over both of us.

A finger under my chin lifts my head up, making Wanda press a soft kiss to my lips, whispering “goodnight my sunshine,” as I mumble back a “goodnight mommy.” Then she leans over to kiss Nat goodnight, but what surprises me is Nat leaving over to peck my lips also, saying “goodnight my loves.”

The last thing I manage to get out before falling into a deep sleep is “night night mama.”

[honeygrahambitch]

"Since laryngitis is not contagious I told Will he should definitely come to work today. Especially now that the Ripper dropped a body. He doesn't need to talk much. He can do his thing and then write a report on it." Jack explained to Hannibal as they arrived at the crime scene. "No one gets hurt and we get even closer to catching the Ripper."

"It's quite cold today." Hannibal commented as a tiny snow flake landed on his palm. "Will agreed I suppose?"

"He did, yes. But we have only been texting so I am not sure what state he actually is in."

Will was already there, next to Beverly, looking around the crime scene, examining something in particular. He was so focused that he didn't even hear Hannibal and Jack.

"Will." Hannibal greeted him. To that Will and Beverly turned to them.

"Will can't speak. Like, at all. I am doing the talking for him today." Beverly explained. Will rolled his eyes helplessly. "He is not thrilled about it but I can do a pretty good job."

"He definitely should not force himself." Hannibal agreed, frowning in concern. If Will was not making any effort to talk then it definitely meant his voice was gone. His usual strategy of ignoring any symptoms he would have did not work in this case.

Jack sighed loudly, probably understanding that Will should have indeed stayed home to rest instead of standing outside in negative temperatures.

"He wants to say that your coat looks majestic, Dr. Lecter." Beverly commented. "Jack, I'm not allowed to say what Will thinks about you at this very moment. I really want to keep my job."

Will didn't protest to any of the things Beverly said and pulled out a little bottle of pills. Hannibal was wondering if Will knew that aspirin won't help that much with getting back his voice. Was his throat sore as well? Probably. Will wouldn't complain about stuff like that even when his voice was perfectly fine.

Hannibal wished he would know that kind of things.

He wished Will would allow him to care for him.

That is why as soon as they were done with the crime scene, he asked Will to get into his car instead of Beverly's. He wanted to open his mouth to protest but the stern look on Hannibal's stern expression made him abandon his attempt to force his larynx.

As soon as they arrived at Hannibal's place, he started making some tea in a navy blue kettle.

"Ginger and chamomile tea does wonders for a sore throat." He explained as Will followed him with his eyes around the kitchen.

Will felt partially powerless and partially grateful. He could admit to himself that other than popping pills, he usually did nothing about feeling sick. He mostly took medication to function at work, he wouldn't need those at home.

"Thank you." He whispered.

Hannibal felt something warm inside himself at hearing his voice for the first time that day.

"You should have told- well, wrote Jack that you are too sick to work, Will. Just so you know, I'm not expecting you for our therapy session tomorrow." Hannibal said as he moved the cattle away from the electric stove.

"No, I can do it." Will whispered a bit louder and coughed immediately after.

"Therapy implies having conversations. And by canceling your appointment I don't mean that I don't want to see you tomorrow. You should definitely come here for dinner." Hannibal went on while pouring tea in two cups. "Sitting with you in silence is not something that I dread."

Will smiled at that. When it came to the two of them, silence was indeed not an obstacle. There was always something to project and something to observe.

Hannibal added a generous spoon of honey in Will's cup and none in his own.

Will opened his mouth to say something more but he coughed again. Hannibal passed him a note book and a pen.

"We can pass notes."

"How romantic" Will wrote to that, earning a genuine smile from Hannibal. Then he kept on writing and then handed the notebook back Hannibal.

"Since I can't talk and you insist on having me around I can finally do what you've been asking me for ages."

"And what have I been asking you for ages?" Hannibal asked curiously as he gave Will the notebook.

"You can draw me in your sketchbook and I promise not to move or make any comment about how boring it is." He wrote back and raised his eyebrows, watching Hannibal's expression as he was reading his words.

"Are you sure?" Hannibal asked trying to conceal his excitement behind a satisfied expression. He was already picturing each pencil or charcoal he could use.

Will nodded.

[watatsumiis]

Sitting in their lap - part 3

I'm really enjoying writing this series, so here's another part! :D

Content: Gender neutral reader (referred to as 'you'), described/implied to be physically smaller than most of the characters (simply because I am and that's how I project, but if you'd like an alternate version, send me an ask and I'll whip it up!), pre-established platonic relationships (though this may border into romantic if you consider physical affection to be that way, so be warned)

Part 1 - (Ft. Albedo, Al Haitham, Ayato, Arlecchino, Capitano, Childe)

Part 2 - (Ft. Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Gorou, Itto, Kaeya)

Characters in this one: Kaveh, Kazuha, Lisa, Morax, Pantalone, Pierro

Kaveh is a bit of a squirmer - he loves being kept company though and will do anything he can to make sure you're comfortable. If he's particularly absorbed in a project, he may barely acknowledge you, but you'll find that he just absently starts to fidget and toy with you, stroking your hair and touching your face, tugging at your clothes, as if he's just making sure you're still here. Sometimes he may even ask for your opinions on what he's working on and will just absently chatter away to you. You don't have to listen super intently, he doesn't mind either way, it's just like he enjoys hearing the sound of his own voice.

Kazuha tends to get up and move around a lot, even when he seems to be settled. He finds that moving around can help get the creative juices flowing - but he'll still himself for a while if it seems like you're in need of some attention. He mutters to himself a lot and may even be working on more than one thing at once (sometimes even holding pencils in both hands), catching little snippets of inspiration before they're gone with the wind. Sometimes it seems like he's looking for your input on a quote or idea, but he always seems a little shocked/startled when you provide a response - but not at all displeased, he really likes having someone to share his ideas with. You notice that his writing tends to border into softer/fluffier sorts of stuff when you're sitting with him - perhaps the physical touch affects him more than he lets on.

Lisa thinks it's super cute and sweet of you to seek her out this way - she certainly doesn't mind having an excuse not to do her work (though it's not like she was going to do it in the first place). She'll chuckle and tease you a little, then settle in for the long haul. She may disturb every now and then to ask you if you need anything or if you can shift your position just a little, but other than that you're pretty much left alone - except for the odd occasion when she's particularly bored and might prod or poke you to make you squirm or giggle. She really does enjoy the company - it gets rather lonely in the library sometimes, especially when people are just dropping in and out for books.

Morax, despite his spiky, horned exterior, really enjoys some snuggles, regardless of his current temperament. The clashing of cold blooded dragon and warm blooded human can mean he has difficulty regulating his own temperature, so having something warm curled up in his lap is often just what he needs to even himself out. He'll curl his big tail around you and rest his chin atop your head - you swear you can feel some kind of purr resonating from somewhere deep in his chest. It's almost possessive, the way he curls his unnaturally tall form around you, puffing out a little sigh into your hair. If he happens to be in a talkative mood, you cuddling up to him may also prompt him into telling you a story or reciting a poem he heard long ago - his voice sounds different from behind those wickedly sharp fangs inside his mouth, but it's still unmistakably him. He'll always make a point to thank you for keeping him company once you get up to go (or if he has to go for whatever reason).

Pantalone acts aggrieved at first - don't take it as a personal slight, he's just dramatic. He'll quickly figure out how to continue his work around you (though you may get booted off if someone walks into his study) and you'll find that he starts to absently use you as a fidget toy, twirling your hair around gloved fingers and pressing his cheek lightly against you as he lets out a content hum from the back of his throat, so quiet that you almost feel like you imagined it. If it becomes a regular thing between you two, he may eventually organise for his workers to bring up extra snacks, and maybe a book or something to keep you occupied. His work is mind-numbingly boring and he doesn't really have any way to entertain you personally. He may get a little strict (or even downright mean) if you fidget and squirm too much, and will remind you "You're only in here because I'm gracious enough to allow you to occupy both my time and space. That opportunity can be taken back at any time." Meanie :(

Pierro has a bout of initial confusion and shock, but doesn't really let it show. He'll just let you climb into his lap, giving you this stern and vaguely-disapproving look as you do so, but he won't say anything or make any move to discipline or redirect you - that's pretty much him giving you the go-ahead. He'll hardly even acknowledge you, just working around you as he does what he needs to do. If anyone happens to walk in, he'll act like you're not even there, just go about his business as usual. His resting temperature is a little cool, but not to an unpleasant degree. You may find him setting a hand on your hip or back every nod and then so that you don't tumble off as he shifts his weight around or reaches for something on his desk, but other than that it's like you don't exist at all - unless you get too wriggly or start asking questions, in which case he just lifts you off of him and sets you on your feet somewhere off to the side of the chair like a mother cat repositioning a kitten.

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons ii.

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ christmas and hot chocolate

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, family issues, and i think that's it?? it's mostly fluff??

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ why is it christmas you might be wondering... well i don't fucking know okay??😭😭wrote this when i was in another country and it was cold and it reminded me of christmas so i wrote this. anyway. this one is boring as FUCK... just saying. i'm embarrassed about posting this actually. also, i accidentally put this on chat gpt and it gave me more than 10 things i had to fix so. don't get your hopes up LMAO

hope y'all have a great day, night, morning or whatever. take care of yourselves!!!!!!! if u don't you're an asshole.

AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST!!!!!!!!! i love everyone who liked it :)) even just knowing people have read it makes my heart warm. i really thought it would get cero recognition, y'all are amazing <3

(readers mental health gets addressed in the next chapter btw)

(not proofread either, sorry if there's any mistake)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

i don't wanna talk about anything

i wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again

wanna witness your eyes looking

For Christmas, I go to Ellie's house, and I lie to my mother about having too much work. She says it's fine, which weirds me out. I never thought she would say yes. I’m excited and happy to go to Ellie’s house, anyway. This is important, I feel—meeting her family, I mean. She never speaks much about them, but I know she's adopted, and that she gets along with them. She also never met her mother. She says she had her aunt to teach her all that Joel couldn't, like what periods were, how to wash her clothes, and how to paint her nails with her left hand.

I think a part of me is afraid to go because I'm afraid I'll get attached. My mother never taught me what periods were and my father never seemed to know what empathy was. Her family sounds like a dream to me.

"We’re here," Ellie says with a smile on her face as she pulls up on the side of the road next to a white house. It’s got a green lawn, it looks nicely cared for, and a white picket fence. I take a deep breath, I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I think Ellie senses that. She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, which feels comforting. "Hey, just know my dad is really fucking chill. It’s just going to be us, and my uncle's family. They’re going to love you, I promise."

"Okay," I nod because I know it and that's what I'm afraid of. I look outside the window. It’s Christmas Eve. It's already snowing. I then stare at Ellie's eyes and smile. I kiss her and when I pull apart I speak. "I don't want to go out, it's cold."

"C’mon, let’s go inside then. I don’t want you to freeze in this car."

I nod and fix my hair in the mirror before I go out. The cold makes me unable to feel my face or my hands, so when I go inside I'm a bit surprised by how warm it is. Ellie makes me hand her my coat and my stuff, and she puts mine and hers aside.

The house inside looks way better than it does outside. The lights are dim, the Christmas tree has colorful lights wrapped around it, and it smells like an apple pie is cooking. It feels like an actual home, and the chimney is decorated with socks, and next to it, on the wall, are pictures of young Ellie.

"You look cute," I tell her, speaking about the photos, as she walks towards me.

She blushes, her ears go red, "Uh, you weren't meant to see that."

"Oh, stop it," I chuckle. "You look adorable.”

"I bet you looked way more adorable than me."

"I looked like a disfigured mosquito with a big ass."

Ellie laughs as her hand goes to my hip, "First of all, if you were a disfigured mosquito—which you're not by the way—I would still like you; second of all, I love your big ass."

"Oh, so that's all you love about me?" I ask, teasingly, slightly tilting my head. "Just my ass?"

I feel Ellie's hands move downwards, nearly gripping my butt, before I hear someone clearing their throat. I'm so red I'm not even a tomato... I probably look like a fucking chili pepper or something.

I know it's Joel because Ellie has a picture of him with her on her nightstand. She looks at Joel as her hands linger on my hips for a second, then she takes them off and walks towards him.

"Joel," Ellie says, hugging him. "Hey, old man."

"Kiddo, you've grown so much."

"I look the same as last month."

"Yeah, just thought it’d make you feel better."

Ellie laughs as she pulls apart. I just stand there, awkwardly behind Ellie. Finally, Joel looks at me.

"Oh, hi," he says, now looking at me. "Ellie has talked a lot about you."

I nod, "Thanks for letting me stay, Mr. Miller."

"Just call me Joel."

"Well," Ellie interrupts. "We're going to my room, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, I'll tell you when Tommy and Maria get here."

Ellie takes our bags, which she insists on doing alone, and leads me to her room.

Her room, it's… so her. Posters of bands cover every inch of her walls, and her desk is stained with paint.

I sit on her bed and look around as she sits next to me.

"I like your room," I tell her, feeling her knee bump against mine. She's so close to me I can feel her breath on my neck. 

"It’s messy, though." She’s looking at me, but I can't dare to look at her. 

I feel guilty for not being at home now, it gnaws at me. Is mom alone? And why do I care? Why do I feel guilt over the person who made me hurt more? She always wants to fight—there's always constant battles between us, battles she always wins. So why do I miss her and why is it hard to accept?

"What are you thinking?"

I chuckle, "It’s nothing."

"Well—alright," she lets the subject the subject slip. She kisses my cheek and then my lips and her hands roam my body. We just make out, though.

Christmas dinner goes fine. Better than I thought it would. The Millers are like a real family, they talk to me like they've known me for years, even though I feel like an intruder in their house. I don't want to be fond of them, or else I'll cling to them like they're family.

Maria and Tommy have a baby and most of the night is spent with Ellie cradling the baby and me sitting next to him. We drink hot chocolate with marshmallows. This is the happiest I've ever been at Christmas.

At night, I leave Ellie's warm embrace to go for a glass of water. I can't sleep, my mind is racing and it won't shut off.

When I go downstairs Joel is sitting at the kitchen table, I don't know what to say to him. Which is okay, because he speaks first.

"Can't sleep?" He asks.

For a moment I think he has confused me for Ellie, because why is he talking to me?

"Yeah," I say, getting my glass of water.

"I won't give the 'hurt my daughter and I'll kill you' talk if that's what you're worried about."

I try to laugh, "Thanks, I guess. You're—you're a great dad."

"Well, you're a great kid."

"Thank you," I answer because I don't know what else to say. He's indeed a great dad. He's funny and nice and caring. I've seen the way he talks to Ellie. Unlike my father he doesn't look at her daughter like he's trying to fix their relationship, therefore their conversations don't look forced; Ellie has referred to me as her girlfriend at Christmas dinner, and all Joel did was smile. It made me want to throw up, even if I felt welcomed.

"Hey—uh, I'm sorry if I approach this in the wrong way… but Ellie has told me that your mother is causing you trouble."

"Yeah," I don't know what to say, again. How do I answer this? How should I feel about this? "She's been a little difficult, but you know. It's the normal mother-daughter fight, nothing to worry about."

"Okay," he nods. "If you want you can talk to me, or Ellie—she's… she's been a little worried."

I hadn't seen that coming. Is Ellie's worried?

"I—I will talk to her. Thank you."

She doesn't want you. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

I want to say Mr. Miller but I know he wants me to call him Joel—which makes me a little awkward. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Get the rest you need," he smiles. "Leave the cup on the table, I'll wash it."

I wake up being the little spoon.

Ellie has her arms wrapped around me like she's afraid I'll leave. As I slowly open my eyes I can also feel Ellie shifting behind me.

"Morning," she speaks in her morning voice, the vibration of her voice against my neck sends shivers down my spine—in a good way.

I smile, "Hey."

"How did you sleep?"

"More than good. Your bed is very comfortable."

"Yeah," she pulls me closer to her front, "I could stay here forever."

We don't stay there forever, though, because we open presents. It's just Joel, Ellie, and me. Surprisingly there's one for me from Joel, and Maria and Tommy.

Ellie gave me a necklace and a ring, which might seem simple to others but I had been planning on buying it for a fucking long while. It always was out of sale. And the ring had a moon on it.

"Fuck, Ellie," I say as I look at her, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed. "This is amazing, I love this."

"Yeah?" She asks. She's sitting next to me, her legs stretched out, resting her weight on one of her arms behind her. I notice she looks flushed. Her cheeks are slightly more pink than they always are.

I nod, kissing her, "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

She chuckles after I give her one last kiss, "Time to open mine now, I guess."

I look at her as she opens what I gave her. It's small, compared to what she gave me. Is just one of the first pictures we took together framed, just after I moved in. I also gave her a white silver beaded bracelet I had made.

"I remember this day," she says, looking at the picture. "I remember I was trying to impress you all day long, you know? I just wanted to make you laugh... and well, you did."

I chuckle, "I did laugh at all your jokes, but I think that's just because I have a very shitty humor."

"I'm glad we share it."

Ellie looks at the bracelet and the framed photo with a tender smile, her eyes glistening.

"I love it," she says softly, as she puts the photo down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

Her words make my heart race, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

"I love you too," I reply, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. I think this is the happiest I've ever been; I think I'll remember this moment forever.

We spend the rest of the morning together, laughing and sharing stories. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I belong somewhere.

After breakfast, as Ellie and I sit on the couch with our fingers intertwined, Joel comes over with a cup of hot chocolate.

"Merry Christmas, you two," he says with a kind smile, handing us the mugs.

"Merry Christmas," I say.

Alright, yeah. This might be the best Christmas I've ever had.

[rougepancake]

Take care.

How they deal with you when you’re on your period (hcs)

Ft. Leonne Abbacchio and Bruno Bucciarati

WARNINGS: Fem!reader. Period cramps, mood swings. Fluffy stuff. These hcs are all over the place btw. There is no order whatsoever-

BRUNO BUCCIARATI

Don’t doubt him, he’s done his research and then some

He knows exactly what to get you when you’re cramping badly, and treats you as if you’re the most fragile thing on earth

Prepares you the BEST herbal teas and plays with your hair while you drink them

Sadly, he doesn’t cave when you beg him for whatever you’re craving, giving you stuff that he knows will tone down your cramps

He definitely gives you massages if you’re tense

I feel like he’s said something along the lines of “we’re in this together” and immediately regretted it afterwards

He makes everything about you for sure

There’s a movie you’ve been wanting to watch? He just bought it on dvd and you’re watching it tonight

You’re hungry? Tell him what you want and he’ll cook it to the best of his abilities

Need a heating pad? If you want, he’ll lay on top of you while you cuddle. If you don’t, you bet your ass he’s got a heating pad on standby

Prepares you nice warm baths and showers and enjoys being able to take care of you like this

Has the fridge stocked with various different fruits and vegetables for you, hand picked to make sure that they’re to your liking

Also has a secret stash of dark chocolate that he bought specifically for when you’re on your period

(he has to move it every month to prevent you from finding it)

Is amazing at comforting you through your mood swings. He’s a real champ for sure

Like if you snap at him, he’ll sit there and take it, because he knows you’ll cave and apologize later. He knows that it’s not your fault that your moody, so therefore he has no need to return your sudden anger

At the start of your relationship, he was definitely much more antsy whenever it came to your cramps and such, but the longer you’re together the more comfortable he gets

He has done all the research he can, and has even gone as far as to ask some of the older women he knows for pointers and such

100% rants to Abbacchio in secret

“I just don’t know what to do! She won’t even let me hold her-“ Bucciarati rambles, his hands waving around madly as he speaks. It’s uncharacteristic for him to be so worked up over something that’s so easily solved.

“Just give her some space.” Abbacchio shrugs and rolls his eyes at his friend. It makes perfect sense, really. You wouldn’t let him touch you, and you seemed moodier than you usually were. You just wanted space. Duh.

“Oh… Yeah. That might work.”

LEONE ABBACCHIO

He has done some research. Like just enough to know what’s healthy for you and what he should do

This guy has a wonderful poker face, because not once have you been able to pick up on the fact that he’s panicking inside

Listen, he loves you, and he’s seriously doing his best here, but damn-

He has to fight back the urge to argue with you for fear that he’ll only upset you further

Like he really, reallyyy wants to piss you off, but he knows better than to do that (plus Bucciarati would never let him hear the end of it-)

While he doesn’t know a whole lot about what to do, he tends to cuddle you until you sleep, or make you whatever you ask for

Sorry but he can’t cook to save his life

Expect slightly burnt food every time he hands you a plate (you love it anyways)

Like Bruno, he’s got a stash of dark chocolate for you, except it’s sitting out in the open and he eats it with you while you’re watching cringy rom coms

I wholeheartedly believe he lets you do his makeup (and vice versa)

Like if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll walk in with his makeup kit and let you go crazy with it

Typically leaves it on until you fall asleep

Whenever he does your makeup, he’s very careful to not upset or hurt you. It’s one of the few times you get to see him so gentle

Has water bottles and heating pads within reach at all times just in case your cramps get worse. He also carries a bottle of Midol in his pocket for extra caution

Refuses to tell you that, however

Had the mindset of “not my womb, not my problem” until he started dating you

The first time you brought it up he died inside. You were suffering and there wasn’t really anything he could do about it. It sucked

Because he has done very basic research, he has no idea what to feed you other than your cravings

I mean yeah he looked up what to give you, but forgot within an hour once he saw how much pain you were actually in

Strictly refuses to ask questions about it and does not want help from anyone.

He gets incredibly flustered when he has to go out and get you pads/tampons. His brain always seems to short circuit on him while he’s in the isle. “What size does she prefer?” “Does she bleed heavily or not?? Fuck I can’t remember-!”

Snaps at anyone who looks at him funny when he buys them

Let’s you do his hair for sure, but WILL NOT go out in public with whatever hairstyle you give him

Braids? Cute, but not in front of Bucciarati

Ponytail? Actually he’s kind of digging it, but he knows he’ll never hear the end of it from the others, so no

Pigtails? You sounded excited about them, but he’d literally rather die than have anyone seen him with his hair like that ❤️

“Can I do your hair?” You ask softly, looking up at him from your spot on the couch. “I think you’d look good with Dutch braids, and I’d like to try it out on you.”

“Fine.” He grabs the hair brush and sits with his back towards you, allowing you full access to his hair. “Just don’t rip it out or whatever.”

“Thanks Leone.” You smile and begin parting his hair. “You’re gonna look amazing when I’m done.”

“I’d better.”

[sorcerersseestars]

just like you <3

warnings: Gojo makes inappropriate jokes. Reader is gender neutral but refers to Gojo as “such a boy” once and is called princess by Gojo thrice. (it’s part of the story, I’m sorry ;-;). Kissing, suggestiveness, & confessions! Gojo is wearing his shades but I was too lazy to keep writing that in…

word count: 2.1k

I feel like Gojo and reader are in their late teens/early 20s in this! Also, I think this feels like more of a snapshot of one moment than a complete oneshot…I guess it’s a drabble then?? Not sure haha pls let me know if there’s a term for this

Gojo hates classical music. Growing up, his parents would drag him to so many ballets and operas, especially around the holidays. He can’t count on both hands how many performances of the Nutcracker he has seen, which was always such a snooze fest for him—he used to point and laugh at the poor child who had to play the rat, which is usually how he got out of seeing the rest of the performance, since the ushers would quickly kick out him and his family for his behavior.

In essence, Gojo has always gone about his life convinced that classical music is horribly boring and that he abhors it.

That is, until you reintroduce him to it. When you ask him if you mind listening to a piece with him, he’s a bit surprised—and of course, apprehensive. How is he going to break it to you that he hates something you hold so dear? But it’s you, so he relents—how could he ever say no to you?

“It’s called Scheherazade,” You say, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s based on a Thousand and One Nights, y’know, the really old story. Do you know it?”

You’re both sitting on your bed. You are sitting cross-legged, while Gojo rudely stretches out his legs (manspreads!), leaving little room for you. You don’t complain, though—you like being this close to him, even if you can’t admit it to yourself.

“I haven’t heard of it,” He admits. He feels so relaxed with you that he yawns even though he isn’t necessarily sleepy. You seem to take this the wrong way, though.

You become embarrassed. “Oh shit, this stuff is kinda nerdy, huh? I don’t want to bore you-”

“You won’t,” He says immediately, firmly. His blue eyes seem to look right through you, making you nervous under his persistent gaze. Maybe if this was music history class, he’d sigh and moan, but since you’re the one telling the story, there’s no possible way he could get bored.

“Oh, r-really?” You stammer out, quickly looking away from his bold gaze (does he always look at you like that?) “Okay then. Uh, so basically, this king found his wife in bed with another man, so he uh– killed her and all of her servants. He kinda went crazy after that and took revenge on women by summoning one virgin to his chamber every night and executing her before the night was up.”

He shifts from his position, leaning in toward you to whisper, “I don’t think he was a very nice king, but don’t tell him I said that.”

You laugh at his lame joke, which makes him feel warm inside.

“Well, one night, a woman named Scheherazade volunteered to be the virgin to go to him one night. Her family was distraught, thinking they were going to lose their daughter to their insane king. But after the first night was up, everyone was surprised to see she was still alive in the morning. This repeated on and on. She was really clever and told him an unfinished story every night, telling him that he would have to wait until the next night to hear the ending. And she did that One Thousand and One times, hence the name of the story.”

“So you’re telling me that she edged him with the same story for one thousand and one nights and he never noticed? Seems kinda gullible, if ya ask me.”

“Why do you have to put it like that?” You say, flustered by his wording. “Ugh, you’re such a boy sometimes.”

“Am I wrong, princess?” He smiles. Your heart skips a beat at his use of a pet name, but you try not to make it obvious.

You roll your eyes. “W-whatever! Anyway, he eventually fell for her and made her his queen. That’s what this piece is based on—or that’s the simple version of it, at least.”

“So, let me get this straight—she tamed an actual virgin-killer?”

“Satoru!” You try to sigh, but can’t hold back your laughter. “That’s not the point!”

“It kinda is though, isn’t it?” He playfully argues. “Actually, I’d argue that’s the climax of the story. After that, everything gets resolved!”

You make a face when he calls it the ‘climax’. In turn, he pokes your cheek.

“What, you don’t like my literary terminology? C’mon, that’s literally what it’s called!”

“You’re such a perv! Virgin killer this, climax that,” You wrinkle your nose in semi-faux disgust. “Just shut up and listen, I’m going to turn it on.”

“Oooo, you’re gonna turn it on!” Gojo says, waggling his fingers and doing jazz hands.

You cross your arms and put on your sternest look. “Do you want to listen to it or not?”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, officer, I’ll behave now!”

You giggle. “Okay, enough. I’m gonna start it now, for real. It’s kinda long, so sit tight.”

You press play on your device, fiddling with the volume for a bit since classical music has such high highs and low lows. You’re still nervous if he’s going to like it or not, so you aren’t as immersed in the music as you usually are. You keep glancing at Gojo out of the corner of your eye, praying you’re not boring him to death.

As the music plays on, you begin to relax and imagine the story in your head. You close your eyes, savoring the colorful tones of the different instruments and the singing melodies.

You open your eyes at the start of the second movement, and are surprised to find Gojo’s eyes completely on you. The solo violin sings beautifully iand the harp tugs at your heartstrings in the background, making the sensation of his eyes on yours all the more evocative. You lose your breath; neither of you look away. It should be awkward, but it isn’t.

“D-do you like it?” You stupidly ask.

“It’s beautiful,” He says softly, eyes still on you. Just like you are the words left lingering on his tongue, right there yet left unsaid.

“Really?!” You answer excitedly—but again, stupidly. “I- uh, I’m gl–”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as the mood in the music suddenly changes. You had turned it up during the quiet opening, since you could hardly hear, so this loud and sudden start to a stormy section catches you off guard. You instinctively flinch and grip the nearest thing around you for comfort…

…That ‘thing’ being your friend, Satoru Gojo. You’re holding his thick biceps tightly, not realizing your blunder in your haste.

He smirks at you but doesn’t move away. If anything, he leans in to you. “Aw, did you get scared? It’s just vibrations wiggling the air, there’s nothing to be scared of.”

You instantly let go. He laughs at how quickly you back away, and you can only hope he doesn’t sense the heat on your cheeks. So embarrassing.

“You–! Ugh! I was just caught off guard!” You say, brushing your hands off just for show. "It just suddenly got so loud that I got startled.”

“That sounds like an excuse to me,” He jests.

“Think whatever you like,” You sigh, exasperated. “But c’mon, we have to finish it! We’re only halfway and we just missed some.”

“Okay, okay, let’s keep going then.” He says, motioning for you to continue. “Just so you know, it’s fine if you need to hold onto something—or should I say somebody—at the next ‘scary’ cymbals crash…”

You glare at him and harshly press the volume up button. You smile as the music returns to your ears, and you slightly sway to the melody. You’re too into the music to notice how Satoru gazes affectionately at your gentle swaying, a small smile gracing his lips.

By around the middle of the third movement, The Young Prince and the Young Princess, you check back in on Gojo. This movement is calmer and slower, not as exciting as the first two, so you worry he may not find it engaging enough.

“What do you think about this movement?” You ask him quietly.

“This one?” He responds, and you nod. “I like it, maybe more than the others. It’s very romantic. And it’s kinda fitting.”

You have no idea what that could mean. You freeze, worrying that it’s a joke that you’ll fall for and get hurt over.

But you ask anyway. “Fitting?”

“Mmhmm,” He rumbles. “The Young Prince and the Young Princess. That’s the title of the movement, isn’t it?”

“It…it is,” You confirm hesitantly, afraid to misunderstand him. “A-and…?”

“Well, princess,” He says, and you again practically melt at the pet name. “I think this movement is very pretty.”

“Pretty?” You echo back. “Yes, I guess it is.”

“Yep, pretty,” He says. “Just like you.”

“I–huh?!”

He said it so casually and with so much ease that you practically missed it.

Just like…you?

“What did you just say?” You ask with wide eyes. You’re trembling and your face feels so hot.

He inches closer to you. You have to fight not to react—whether that would be to lean in or back away, you do not know. You like him so much that it scares you—he practically holds the reins to your emotions.

“I said that this movement is pretty, just like you,” He says, eyes flickering down to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Is there something wrong about that? You can’t crucify me for telling the truth.”

You brain cells start to fizzle out. All you can think to say is, “Crucify you?”

Gojo chuckles. “I call you pretty, and you’re focusing on my wording?”

“Well, I- you’re talking like it’s biblical times or something!”

“Maybe your story reminded me of that. You were the one talking about executing virgins,” He says, then comes closer still. “Pretty.”

He’s so close that you’re sure he can feel your quick breaths fanning his face. You’re so nervous that your breathing comes fast and shallow.

You swallow your fears. It’s now or never.

“Satoru,” You start shakily, then steady yourself with a big breath. “I think…I think you’re pretty, too.”

He blinks. You blink.

You’re so sure that he’s about to make fun of you for what you said—is it weird to call a boy pretty?—and you’re so sure that he’s going to boisterously laugh in your face and reveal that it’s all one big joke that everyone else was in on.

You’re so embarrassed. You cover your face with your hands, mortified by your own actions. The laughter is coming, you know it.

And it does. But it’s different than you imagined.

He’s laughing softly. You peek through your fingers. He seems to be…amused?

“You’re so cute,” He says. “So pretty. So endearing, d’ya know that?”

Your voice comes out so small and vulnerable. “Really?”

“Really,” He affirms. “And I…I really want to kiss you, pretty.”

Your eyes meet his. You’re electrified by the genuine want and need in his gaze. He’s serious.

“Then kiss me, Satoru.”

Ah, so there’s the sassy tone you usually have towards him. He chuckles and traces your jawline with his fingers. He savors in the way you squirm and how your breath hitches when his fingers reach your neck.

He leans in and circles his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss. You hold onto his biceps again for support, which flex under your palms as he takes the kiss deeper. You feel even hotter than before, if that was even possible.

He finally breaks the kiss, and you’re surprised to hear his equally shaky breathing. “I really like you, princess. I really like you.”

You laugh softly, pressing a hand against his firm chest. “Satoru, I like you too. If it wasn’t obvious.”

“Maybe it was with the way you practically fell into my lap when you got scared–”

“I did not!!” You bury your face in your hands again.

“Kidding, princess!” He kisses your cheek. “You’re so easy to rile up…Oh, by the way, did you know that I hate classical music?”

“You do? Really? Oh, god, you must have been so bored the whole time, I knew it–!”

“No, no I really enjoyed this. Seriously.” He says with conviction. “I wasn’t faking anything. Ever. It just feels so different with you…”

“Satoru…” You whisper.

He starts leaving kisses on your jawline, causing you to shiver. “You just drive me crazy, princess. ‘Couldn’t stop thinking of you while we were listening. I wanted to kiss you so bad the whole time.”

“Then we gotta make up for the lost time, huh?” You say, pulling him into another kiss.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He sighs, letting himself get lost in you.

Scheherazade continues playing in the background, but it’s on neither of your minds now. You barely even hear it, even though you had been so insistent on listening to the whole thing through before. Even when the ending chords fade out, both you and Satoru are trying to catch your breath, craving more.

Fin.

Thank you for reading!! I don’t feel like it’s my best work, but i hope it’s still a little enjoyable! 🥹 I got the urge to write this out of NOWHERE and wrote it all today…I never do that haha so that was quite the surprise for me.

Note: To all the fellow classical music nerds out there, I’m aware that Scheherazade isn’t actually classical, but…let’s just put that aside, shall we? :) I’m just using layman’s terms so that everyone can understand and enjoy!

[elizzsush]

I love you Helplessly. | Tim Drake X Reader

Angst No comfort.

AU: None Rating: SFW

Note: This one if meant to hurt. I hope it does but if it feels devoid of something please tell me. I tried to make it, so you'd be teary eyed at the end, and I am sorry if I didn't do that. I am not the best at writing this stuff, I'm an avid reader of angst but writer? Well, I can try. __________________________________

They say that when you're drowning there is a moment of peace.

When you wake up, you take a minute to adjust. Maybe it's like that? The peace... It might just be you adjusting to the water in your lunges? A moment of peace, when the light shines in through the curtains and you don't squint and shoo it away, but instead choose to bask in its warmth, its light.

Your drowning, basking. You think you can adjust to this light. Because he made you feel helpless. It felt amazing, like you didn't know what to do and he'd hold you so softly.

When he kissed you, it tasted like coffee. You didn't like the flavor before him.

Tim Drake was a perfect lover.

It felt like he knew you better than you knew yourself. But the best part? Well, that was when he held you.

His soft touch, holding your close. His palms felt like the sun, warm and oh so so comforting. You told him it was because he was always holding a hot cup of coffee, but you didn't think that was true either. Because even if he hadn't had coffee yet, his touch still felt like the world.

"I love you."

You said it first. You always did It first- You messed it all up. Because he didn't look at you after that. Instead, he froze, his eyes zeroing in on his laptop. "I'm sorry- I don't know-"

"No, its fine." Tim interrupted you. A conflicted look on his face. "No- Thank you for saying that. It means a lot to me"

You nodded as he kissed you, his bitter coffee taste weighted heavy on your tongue.

Were kisses meant to be this bitter?

No, that thought was just a distraction. A distraction from what your mind really didn't want to focus on. Why didn't he say it back...?

That thought kept you awake.

What you didn't know was Tim was thinking the same thing. He had been thinking about it. Within the last week there had been three times he wished he said he loved you.

It was the beginning of the week, and he was having a rough day. When he got back to his room, he found... you, a fresh mug of coffee and a pile of blankets all laid out- one even was hung up like a canopy above you.

You giggled and requested he join you in bed and he did, hugging you so tightly, he breathed in your scent and sighed stress leaving him like you repealed it.

When he was with you his brain stopped working. he didn't need to think- he only needed to be there and hold you.

He reasoned with himself, if he could kiss you like he loved you that made up for it. And he kissed you and touched you and- you were his world. He made it feel like you were and he was happy with that.

So why can't you get your mind off those three words?

Your insecurities ate at you as you began to cater to him just a bit more- hoping he'd say those words you longed needed to hear.

They say that when you're drowning there is a moment of peace.

When you wake up, you take a minute to adjust. Maybe it's like that? The peace... It might just be you adjusting to the water in your lunges? A moment of peace, when the light shines in through the curtains and you don't squint and shoo it away, but instead choose to bask in its warmth, its light.

You were drowning and sadly that moment of peace wasn't coming.

The rotting feeling inside your chest felt horrible as he yanked your head from out of the water. Your eyes burned from the tears. You voice broke and sobs wrecked your body, your chest heaving for air- because if you had air, you can plead correctly. "Please-" You couldn't catch your breath, "Please, no more, please no more- Tim- I-"

"Tsk Tsk Tsk." He shook his head with a pout. Pulling your head by its hair harshly so you'd see his waving finger. "No no no, that just won't do." He said before his laughter- that terrible sound.

A scream like none ever left your body. Your throat ached but you couldn't stop. The water muddied your tears as he shoved your face back into the all too hot water. Boiling... No one heard your screams. no one ever would. Not a single soul... accept... Him, the man doing this too you was the only one that could stop this, he was the only one to hear your screams. Muffled by the water.

He eventually left. The game ended and he left you in the corner, a ball as you laid there. Your lip quivering, eyes watering, that pain in your chest- the horrible pain you couldn't explain. Your body shook as you finally let yourself sob into the floor. Ugly, like a wet dog. You didn't know why you felt your heart break the way it did.

No one would ever find you.

Because you were dead to them.

It was your fault.

Maybe if you reached out more often, they would have realized something strange was at play with your death.

If you had been a better girlfriend Tim would have found, you by now.

Maybe if they- if he knew you better?

Why had you been such a failure? Maybe if you where more well-known people would look into it.

Why?

Why did you end up here?

Why was the only thing you could hear that maniacs laugh?

That horrible cracker, filled with nothing but joy as he watched you squirm on the floor pinning you down and yelling at you as you screamed. "Calm down! Calm down!" He'd shout over and over like it was a fun game and those were just fun words!

Your only retreat was the small corner of the room. "Mom." You'd sob over and over again. "Mom please- I- help momma please."

She was the only one you can beg too.

It didn't matter that she would never be able to help you.

Your eyes burned, why did crying do that? Your chest felt empty, like someone scrapped away everything in it, scratching and cutting the sides of your heart. Gripping it and gripping it till it would pop.

The burning in your throats hurt but the only thing you could do was sob and shout.

You shouted till your throat felt like your heart. Scratched, empty yet full at the same time.

"Momma... Tim..." You sobbed, the only two names you could. "Why?" was the only thing you could cry.

"Now now, Why so serious?"

The clown crackled and laughed, that was the last thing you heard before something began beating at your back.

You'd die helplessly. It was strange, the only time you felt helpless… it was with him.

So you only smiled as the light around you- what little was let in faded.

"I... love you...Tim.”