#“if you're late to the first lesson you have to go write a paper with your excuse so we can give it to the principal”

[technologyvoid]

School's adding rules that make me want to just not go there

[stairain]

Desk Pet.

Despite knowing the importance of work, Spencer still can't help but distract you in the worst way possible.

Warnings: Sub Spencer, meanish reader, slight pet play (use of nickname puppy), grinding, leg humping, cumming in pants, begging. // Sorry for disappearing! It will happen again!

WC: 3.0K

You were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, intently staring at your computer screen as you tried to file through your work. Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration and you were so deep in thought you didn’t even hear your boyfriend Spencer walk into the room. 

He had been working late, so it was just past midnight. His footsteps were silent as he walked past you towards the bed. But he saw you were engrossed in your work and was going to sneak past you without disturbing you, but a thought popped into his mind and he suddenly couldn’t resist.

Biting your lip, you look down at the papers on the table and start to write something down, oblivious to the way Spencer was sneakily padding over to you with a clear intention in mind. You didn't know what he had planned, but you knew you couldn't afford any distractions right now.

He came up behind you and stood at your left-hand side. Your attention was still focused on the papers in front of you, much to his dismay. He leaned in slowly and kissed the right side of your neck, moving any pieces of hair that got in his way. He then nuzzled his face against your neck, his breathing becoming quick and shallow.

A shudder ran up your spine and your heart almost stopped before you processed what was happening as he snapped you out of your work-induced trance. After the initial shock, your eyebrows knit further in annoyance. You had a lot of things to get done, and he sure wasn't helping, and you knew he knew that.

"Not now, Spence. I'm really really busy, do you think you can give me a few hours?"

You try to sound as sweet as possible, because you knew for a fact that he could not wait a few more hours. He was impatient and needy at the worst times, now being one of them. You tried to ignore the warm feeling of his lips pressing tiny kisses against your neck.

“How about now? I just want a little taste..”

His lust blown eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at you, with a slight playful smile. His voice sounded low and husky and his eyes burned with arousal. His words had a slight edge of desperation to them and he seemed to have no intention of giving up any time soon.

Breaking your gaze from your work you look at him just long enough that those wide eyes of his almost win you over, but you're quick to get back to writing as you shake your head. The desperation was evident in his voice, but you really had so much to do. You just couldn't afford to stop and give him what he wanted.

"Baby, I told you. I'm really busy, be a good boy and be patient for me, please?"

Spencer had looked like a hurt puppy when you turned away from him, he couldn’t believe you didn’t give in after his first time asking. His face twisted into a sad frown as you wrote on your stupid papers. He sighed again and tried harder to get your attention.

“Just a few minutes, please? Do I really have to wait until later?”

He asked pitifully. The puppy dog eyes and little frown that looked so adorable on his face were working overtime to get you to give in and fuck him already.

With a soft chuckle you look at him and shake your head once more. It was always hard to say no to him, and you rarely did, which is why he always took it so hard.

It was always so endearing how desperate he got when he didn't get what he wanted. You really did want to give him what he wanted, but he was far too spoiled already. He had to learn his lesson sooner or later.

"Spence, baby. Go lay down or read a book until I'm finished, I promise after I'm finished we can do whatever you want, okay? You'll be okay waiting for a bit."

He was determined to make you give in by any means necessary. The slacks he neglected to change out of were growing tighter by the second, heavy cock straining against the already uncomfortable material. He was so hard and needy and he didn’t know what he’d do if you kept this up. 

Spencer leaned in closer to you, and his lips pressed against the side of your neck again. This time he sucked and swirled his wet tongue against it, creating a tingling feeling that spread throughout your body. He looked down at you with a pleading look, trying to make you give into his pleading and begging sooner rather than later.

“Please.. I-I can’t wait an entire night to be with you. I just can’t..” He whined, looking at you pitifully. His tone was almost like he was throwing a tantrum, and at this point he might as well have been.

"Well you're going to have to, if I don't get this finished I'm fucked."

You didn't even spare him the glance, already knowing he was giving you those pouty lips and sad puppy eyes. Maybe it was because you really did need to focus, or because you knew if you looked at him for longer than a second you wouldn't be able to.

His bottom lip curled downwards into a pout and he let out a sigh, before slowly leaning back away from you. He took a step back but his eyes remained glued on you. 

“Okay. Fine. I’ll be a good boy..” He whined again, and pouted.

The dejected tone in his voice sent a pang through your heart, and you couldn't help the way you bit your lip in thought at how to proceed this. You knew you had to work, but you also knew how much he loved being around you. Sighing, you speak your compromise.

"Come here."

You called out in a firm voice, waiting for his presence behind you again.

He seemed a little surprised by your rather blunt word choice, but he obeyed nonetheless and came back over to stand behind you. Plus your tone of voice when you called for him turned him on in an instant. You still had your attention on your work and he knew that, but he liked the small progress he was making. 

“What can I do for you, ma’am?”

He was still in a slightly dejected tone, but he had a glimmer of hope. He craved to hear and feel the passion and desire he knew you had inside of you, and he needed it now. 

"Get on the ground."

You offhandedly said, as if it were nothing more than a passing thought. With your rolling office chair, you pushed yourself back a bit so he had more space. Space to sit underneath your desk like a good pet while you finish your work. He was so desperate for your attention, he'd take anything you offered.

The moment he heard those words his heart dropped into his stomach. He was so desperate to be with you, that even being right at your feet was more than he could ever ask for. He loved when you told him what to do and when to do something. He absolutely adored being ordered around.

Spencer was quick to obey you as he fell to his knees and crawled under the desk, waiting for more orders. His eyes burned with lust as he stared up at you. 

Your eyes flickered down at him once he was settled between your legs, and you widened them the littlest bit more, just to tease him. Without another word, you began typing on your computer, seemingly ignoring him after telling him to kneel at your feet like a dog.

To put it simply, he was desperate to be noticed. He wanted your attention so bad he’d do anything for it. He wanted you to acknowledge him, give him the littlest glance and he’d be happy.

Yet, he still knew better than to bother you right now while you were working after already burning that bridge. So he just looked up at you as you typed away on your computer and waited for a sign from you. His eyes locked with yours that were glued to the screen and he looked at you with a gaze full of adoration and worship. 

But you hadn't even been granted five minutes of peace and quiet before you felt him scooting closer towards you. He seemed to take a liking to your right leg, gravitating towards it and not so subtly opening his own legs to slot your calf between them. You stop typing for a moment, but you don't give the satisfaction of sight.

"Spencer."

Voice low and scolding, you warn him with just the call of his name. You thought you had given him more than enough attention, especially after he had been such a brat and refused to leave you alone. He's lucky you even let him sit under your desk, and now he was taking advantage of it.

His eyes darted forward when he heard your low, scolding voice, as if he had been caught. He looked at you with eyes that were positively spilling faux innocence, like he was expecting to be let off the hook.

“Yes, Ma’am?”

Spencer asked quietly, tilting his head to one side. His expression looked hopeful, like he was expecting more. A part of him was hoping to be rewarded for his behavior. He knew that wasn’t the case, though. You never rewarded misbehavior.

"Watch it."

You warned him once again. The tone in your voice was nothing short of intimidating and serious, and yet it did nothing but turn him on even more. You could feel his arousal throbbing against your ankle as he cozied himself up against your leg. You tried to ignore the weight and heat of his shaft pressing on you, but you were just a woman. 

He rested his chin on your knee, eyes wide and sparkling. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked a little confused as he tried to figure out what he had done wrong so as to deserve your warning. You told him to get on the ground, you never told him he couldn’t use your leg to get himself off. He had no idea he was taking advantage of your kindness, and yet had no problem doing it.

“Watch what?”

The brunet asked innocently. He kept his eyes glued to yours, waiting to see what you were going to do, as if challenging you. The longer he looked up at you, the hornier he got. Taking a deep inhale through your nose and rolling your eyes, you snap at him. 

"I've told you countless times, I need to get my work done. I can't give you what you want."

You reminded him once again, eyes darting everywhere on the desk and yet not one glance underneath it. You had hardly registered the way his hips were slowly rolling down against your leg and how his plush pink lips parted with a soft moan. He was grinding against you like a bitch in heat, barely listening to a word you said at this point. 

He let out a whimper as he pushed the pulsing head of his dick against you without a care in the world. Those wide, adorable brown eyes of his looked so desperate as he continued to look up and try his best as to not be caught by you. You couldn't see it, but you felt his arms hook around your leg for more leverage to hump against you pathetically. 

“I know, I know. I just–can’t wait. It has to be you..” 

Your breath hitched as your breath got caught in your throat. Something about those words he just whimpered out, they were winning you over. You purse your lips with a sigh and look down at the pathetic puppy at your feet. The movements of his hips and crotch had slowed down, but you could tell he was just itching to start again. The way his eyebrows were slightly upturned in the temptation of bliss, and the soft puffs of a whimper leaving his mouth. It was too much, and you were worn weak.

"You have five minutes, if you don't get off by then, you leave this room. Understood?"

Spencer smiled widely when he heard what you agreed to, and he crawled forward more to hug your leg closer to his chest. Pressing his forehead against your knee, he made small, soft whimpering noises as he got to work. 

“Yes, Ma’am. I understand. Five minutes.” 

He recited back to you as coherently as he could, already lost in the feeling of your unmoving ankle colliding so deliciously with his leaking cock. He was staining the insides of his boxers with sticky warm precum, and the wetness made his head spin and his breath shallow.

Turning your attention back to the work at hand and not the bitch at your feet, you shake your head and try your hardest to ignore the way he was practically humping your leg at this point. He was trying his hardest to keep quiet, but it obviously wasn't working. If Spencer was anything, it was vocal when he felt his best. You could feel every stutter of his hips and the way the rest of his body shook when he pressed his arousal harder against the bone of your calf. You'd be lying if you told yourself this wasn't turning you on beyond belief, ignoring him as he used you for his own pleasure.

He pushed himself against your leg some more, but he didn’t push it too far for now. You knew he was about to burst, but he tried so hard to hold it in to enjoy it. He was breathing more heavily as instinctively kissed your knee. His sounds of need became louder with every hump.

“Oh, fuck.” 

He shuddered out, his voice still low and sultry and nothing short of needy. His whole body quivered with the amount of effort he was using to hold on. Not only would it be humiliating to have finished not even thirty seconds after you granted him permission to get himself off, but it would be an utter waste of time. 

As the seconds ticked by and approached his time limit, the push and pull of his lower body was almost maddening. He was rubbing himself so hard against you through his pants, and you secretly hoped he'd be able to finish in five minutes, considering how badly you wanted to see him make a mess without even having to touch him, let alone pay attention to him.

Spencer looked up at you, and he still had four minutes to go before his time was up. He was already out of control, and it was getting harder and harder to hold himself back.

He kept rubbing himself on you and making those low, desperate sounds. He was going to explode soon, and although unlikely, he hoped that you would stop working when those five minutes were up. He hoped you would finally pay attention to him. He was so needy and desperate. He wanted you now. 

While he was having the time of his life grinding against you, it just wasn’t what he really needed. He needed to be buried inside of you, pushing as deep as he possibly can as your cunt sucked him in even further. He needed to have you gushing around him as his elbows gave out on him as he tried his hardest to keep fucking you through his third orgasm. 

But he wasn’t going to get that, not tonight. 

Deciding to try and be nicer to your poor boy, you move one hand away from your work and card it through his soft curls. Running your nails against his scalp, back and forth, as if to imitate the cant of his hips. It almost served as a silent praise, 'what a good job you're doing' you could have said, but you had a demeanor to keep up and a report to write up.

He couldn’t help the pathetic groan that was punched out of him at your touch. You always knew where he loved being touched the most, and you knew it never felt as good when he did it himself. 

“Oh, fuck–please.”

The words left his mouth in a hiss as he pushed himself more against you. His jaw shook and his sounds grew in intensity as his body froze and he squeezed your leg impossibly tighter. It wasn't a moment later that you felt his entire body go rigid against you and his breath caught in his throat in what sounded like a choked sob.

The tightness of Spencer’s pants did nothing to mask his shame as he exploded into the poor stained fabric. His eyes instantly found your face and almost forced you to look right back at him as he finished. His mouth was quivering as pathetic whimpers and moans punched their way out of his throat. Thick spurts of warm cum made their way into his boxers. He had positively soaked the front of his pants, with a minute left to spare.

The moment he finished, he fell flat against you and his hand reached out and grabbed your thigh, clinging onto you like he was dying and you were his lifeline. His head was pressed firmly against your leg and he was still shaking and breathing heavily from his release.

His face was burning red from the strain he just went through. He felt as though he shot out his soul in the process of drenching himself. He had a stupid grin on his face as he looked up at you with pleading eyes.

“Can I stay now?” He asked in a desperate tone, with those same damned puppy dog eyes.

Rolling your eyes, you smile down at him and suck on your teeth. He always knew how to push your buttons and get what he wanted, every single time.

“Fine. But keep those hands to yourself.”

[ssahotchnerr]

hello my sweet! been reading your stuff a lot lately and the way you write aaron is so beautiful and real but anyway i’ll stop gushing - imagine just EXISTING with aaron. like the both of you doing your evening routines and just being happy and safe in each others prescence like UNF I NEED HIM BIBLICALLY

also also imagine him using his height to tease u like knowing you always use a particular mug so he likes putting it on the top shelf so he can tower over you and press himself against your back under the pretense of “helping” like aaron you little slut we know what you’re trying to do and its mean😠 (do it again)

anyway ily lots and i hope you’ve had a good day n stuff

- Gem💙

routine and a tease

thank you so much my sweet ily!! hehe here's a thing including alllll of that cw; suggestiveness, allusions to sex, mentions of food, aaron being a lil shit <3 wc; 1k

aaron's alarm goes off at seven, yours at seven thirty.

you're notorious for hitting snooze, several times, while aaron promptly rises at the first ring. half the time, you're convinced he even beats his alarm most days.

aaron's finished showering by the time you drag yourself out of bed. steam's still coating the bathroom mirror, the air's a bit thick with the lingering heat, and it fogs into your bedroom. as you enter, he exits, but not without giving you your first kiss of the morning. you hop in the shower next, while aaron dresses and trails out.

being the first awake, aaron has the awakening the apartment duties. he pulls the curtains open, allowing the morning light to flood in. he grabs jack's backpack off the chair at the dining room table, quickly double checks that homework was completed, and that the papers in his folder are orderly and within easy access, according to jack's lesson schedule - science is first, then math, language arts, so on - and back into his backpack it goes. he then double checks to make sure his briefcase and go-bag has everything he needs, he'll retrieve his gun and badge when he heads out later.

aaron sets both by the door, as well as your bag. he knows everything is already prepared and ready to go - you won't go to bed the night prior if it's not. you've told him many times, as not an early riser, why add a reason to rush in the morning if you can help it?

being the first awake also has its advantages, especially when it comes to a certain game aaron is fond of playing. he'll never deny himself the opportunity to poke affectionate fun at you.

and he does so for the other benefit; it does tend you rile you up.

even this, is routine.

you enter the kitchen with a yawn - you passed aaron in the hallway, where he gave you your second kiss of the day, off to jack's room to get him up and at 'em.

aaron's already brewed the coffee, and your creamer is on the counter waiting for you. all you need to do is open the cabinet to retrieve your favorite cup.

it's a mug jack painted you, at one of those pottery and art studios in the city. it was one of your birthday surprises this past year, and it's the only mug you plan on using for the rest of time. you even have a matching plate, aaron's own doing when he accompanied jack at the studio.

no matter how many times aaron pulls the stunt, your reaction is always the same. your brows crumble at the absence - at the empty spot amongst the other mugs. where you had left it the night before after unloading the dishwasher, it's no longer there. and as expected it's on the very top shelf, way out of your reach.

"aaron," you whine, loudly enough it trails out of the kitchen and down the hall.

a moment later aaron enters, a mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. he knows that whine, but doesn't address it, naturally. "good morning darling. sleep well?"

you narrow your eyes, playfully glaring at him as your arms crossed in front of you. despite your ministrations, a smile tugs at your lips, "i did. you?"

"mhmm." he presses his lips to yours. his eyes quickly flick up to the open cabinet, right to where your mug stands, but remains purposefully oblivious.

you continue to play along. "busy day ahead?"

aaron shrugs, grabbing his mug and pouring his helping. "nothing out of the ordinary. budget meeting, there's a few reports i have to finish, the usual."

you hum in response, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

aaron takes a sip of coffee, only to hide his itching smile. "is there something wrong?"

"is there?" you mock his cheeky tone, and your eyes narrow again. "somehow, my mug isn't where i left it."

"that's strange," aaron feigns confusion, his brows furrowing as his gaze moved upward. "all the way up there? wonder how that happened."

you scoff lightly, turning back to the cupboard. you leaned up on your tiptoes as you attempted to reach for it, anticipating his next move. "yeah, i wonder."

as you expected, aaron's front is suddenly flush against your back, fully crowding you, his mouth at your ear. "lemme help." his voice is low as he reaches up, retrieving your mug with ease. his other hand lands on the spot right above your ass, daring to move lower, and causing your breath to catch in your throat.

but, aaron withdrawals his hand the second he hears the soft breath escape you, grabbing the pot of coffee and pouring it into your mug himself.

mission successful, once again.

you exhale, deeply yet gently, heat filling your cheeks. it's days like these, you'll opt for iced coffee.

some rare mornings though, with jack at jess's and neither you or aaron have anywhere to be, his actions don't stop there. more often than not, the two of you don't even bother to leave the kitchen.

aaron leans up against the counter, silently watching you prepare your coffee to your liking, rather unenthusiastically at that. after your first sip, and another amused glare directed at him, you start pulling out the cereal for breakfast. aaron falls alongside you, beginning to pack jack's lunch - grabbing an uncrustable from the freezer, filling a ziploc of carrots, another of veggie straws.

again, your shared, usual routine.

you're the one to finally break the silence. "one of these days, i'm buying a step stool."

"no you won't," a laugh bursts from him as he grabs a juice box from the fridge, the loudness of it making you grin instantly. he straightens his posture as he stands back upright, a half smile, half smirk plastered on his face. "you enjoy this just as much as i do. even more."

he has you there, and from the expression your face pulls in response, he knows it. a laugh leaves him once more as he crowds you, backing you against the counter and pressing his lips to yours.

"this is the best part of the morning,'' aaron mumbles into your lips. "is it not?"

[seungsuki]

can you do how korosensei would tease y/n and karma with their relationship!!

teasing - koro sensei taking the time to tease his favourite couple (gn!reader)

warning: none

note: i was in the raya mood but i didn't have anything to do so i wrote as quick as i could. THANK YOU ANON! this marks my first ever ask for writings :D

today was a long day. a very long day thanks to a certain yellow octopus. the old school building stood tall and proud in front of you. sometimes you enjoy standing still for a while to admire the architecture. it puzzled you about the history of the building. suddenly you were brought back into the real world when you felt a tug on your hand 

“let’s go?”, a certain redhead asked looking back at you in a worried manner 

you shook away your thoughts and plastered a small smile on your face. hands still tangled together, karma took the lead and you both walked into the building. you had to hold back the devil from trying to break into the teachers lounge before reaching the classroom. karma stopped you and opened the door before gesturing you to enter 

“after you, mi amor”, karma smirked 

“i did not know you were learning spanish”, you rolled your eyes at his silly antics 

“[name]! karma! you're 30 minutes late!”, koro sensei scolded angrily 

“sorry, teacher. had to show [name] some cool places”, karma winked at you

you could feel the heat spread on your face from embarrassment. looking down on the ground, you made your way to your seat, beside your redheaded boyfriend. you looked over to him and he simply smiled before looking back at the yellow octopus 

“today we’ll be reading a love story!”, koro sensei exclaimed as the class groaned 

at lightning speed, the papers were distributed within seconds. when you got a hold of the paper, a blush spread across your face. in horror, you read it and realised something. hands shaking a bit, you looked over at karma, who mimicked the same expression, yet he still looked calm 

“sensei.. this is a fanfiction of [name] and karma?”, nagisa raised his hand to ask 

“and why is [name] an idol?”, kayano peeped 

“o-oh pardon me students!! that was a private paper! tehee”, koro sensei scrambled around to collect the papers 

“wow so the pervert octopus writes fanfictions of his students”, karma teased the pink shaded teacher 

“what?!?! no no! not at all! i’m a teacher! why would i do such a l-lewd thing?”, koro sensei said panicking

the entire class erupted in an argument with their teacher. they demanded to see what else he wrote about his class, and koro sensei jumped and dodged the knives being thrown at him. from a pink shade, he changed into his usual yellow colour but with green stripes.

you were far too embarrassed to even say anything. kanzaki looked over to you from afar and sent her somewhat sorry expression, as if she was the one who started it. you placed your head between your hands and looked down on the table hoping to save your dignity 

“koro sensei you got some parts wrong. i took [name] to a skatepark, not some cheap cafe”, karma pointed out with the paper in his hand 

“can you feel bad for [name]..”, nagisa whispered to the red head 

“what is there to be embarrassed about? oi babe”, karma called 

he purposely had to add the last word since he enjoyed teasing you the most. you looked up at the smirking boy. you knew what he wanted. it was written in bold on his face and you wanted to curl yourself into a ball and not show up in public ever again 

“wanna give koro sensei a show?”, he teased 

“i rather not karma, i prefer if we all sat down and get back to the lesson”, you said increasing your volume at the last part 

“but i just brought my camera!”

you looked behind karma and saw that your teacher indeed prepared an entire gear. it looked like a professional filming for a drama scene. you noted that rio and maehara seemed to enjoy this the most. rio had an entire director's look as she had a rolled magazine held. maehara was holding the lights and gave you a thumbs up 

“why don’t you guys give us a kiss scene! we’d love that~!”, koro sensei teased while blushing at his thought 

you looked over to karma and quickly shook your head in disagreement. he noticed your discomfort and stopped his teasing. he loved it, he won't lie but he knows his limits. he swore to never make you do things you don’t want to. that was his charming point 

“alright party is over”, karma sighed and reached for your hand 

“i heard the arcade is having its yearly promotion. let’s go check that out”, he said intertwining his hands with yours 

“n-now wait a minute! we have class”, koro sensei tried stopping the duo 

“so? now you have something to write about”, karma stuck his tongue out to the teacher 

he casually walked away with you and closed the class door behind. as soon as the both of you left the class, a roar of loud comments came from the students and gossips were being created on the spot (mostly by rio) 

“an arcade? really?”, you asked as you both left the old school building 

“well yeah.. i mean i can take you to the skatepark to show off my tricks again”, he winked at you 

“plus we need to discuss on how we’ll get our revenge”, he said and you swore you could see a pair of devil horns 

you shook your head again before giving an exaggerated sigh. this was going to be a long day but does it matter? at least you can spend time with your lover. he may be a tiny bit crazy but you wouldn’t mind pushing that aside 

“sooo am i getting my kiss?”, karma asked with a smirk 

“of course” you replied 

unbeknownst to you both, the class had watched the entire event through the window. koro sensei seemed to be over the moon. he quickly pulled out his camera to take a picture and was even taking notes of the scene 

“should we stop him?”, kayano whispered to her blue haired friend 

“you can try”, nagisa awkwardly laughed 

© seungsuki 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator

[brokenpieces-72]

COD x Transformers

Fair warning: heavier language than what I usually write.

Not gonna lie I’m gonna need help with this if y’all want a series. I’m letting requests and comments to push this series forward, because honestly I don’t know what else to do with this.

School was so stupid, why were you even here? You see some value in the lessons, math is useful, science is good to have, understanding history is helpful, and English has you reading in a different way. Why you had to come to classes though you really don't understand. But Price suggested it, and offered to pay for it, so here you are. Of course when people know where you grow up, or rather think they know where you grow up, that means dealing with people who are either afraid of you or think they are superior to you.

At least the guys in your shop class were chill. When you first came to the class, you got some looks, but after a week they were asking questions about your life. You kept a lot of it to yourself but it was nice having people not treat you like a delinquent.

You didn't have shop though, unfortunately there had been an accident recently involving some of the power tools being damaged, with yellow tape over the doors. It meant going home early sure, but you had one more class. Some girl took a piece of gum acting like she was better than you when you told her no. There was a kid who whipped around to hand you a work sheet, and then whipped back forward as soon as you got it, despite you not doing anything to him all year. Another handful of students tagged your locker with 'gang' signs and adult photos, and you were blamed for it. If it weren't for being in school you and the principal could be on a first name basis. Half the time she'd just go straight to security footage to see what had actually happened and shut down whatever group was trying to get you in trouble.

The bell rings and you stay seated, waiting for the teacher to finish talking and others to leave before you get up, slowly inserting your books and papers into your bag, before hoisting it over your shoulder. Of course it couldn't be that easy as you're met with a small group around your desk, close enough to break your personal bubble and making it very hard to stand up without bumping one of them, you just stare at the ground off to the side.

“Pay up.” The rich boy says. For what? God knows this time. He’ll demand money for a number of things. Tiny scratch on his car, losing an “unfair” bet, or for wasting his time getting called by the principal for his own actions.

“I’m not paying for the hairline damages on your daddy’s borrowed ride, for me crushing you in whatever you considered our most recent bet, or for making you late for your work shift at kissing mommy and daddy’s ass for getting caught.” You say before sliding back in your seat away from them, and heading for the door. You turn back to push in your chair, and that’s when the rich boy’s richer girlfriend pipes up.

“Probably wouldn’t want to touch any of their bills, who knows where they stuffed them last night at the club.” She sneers leaning in. You lean in to meet her.

“Sorry you couldn’t get me for your lap dance, I had respectable company to entertain last night.” You say smugly. God that shock and disgust on her face was a thing of natural beauty. You start walking out but before you can reach the door one of the rich couple’s cronies decides to make another remark.

“Bet your mama sucked dick to get you here.” You stop dead in your tracks when you hear this. When you were younger a comment like this made you see red and it made life difficult on your mother with the amount of fights you’d get into. You see red now. You turn to them.

“Even if she was straight, your fat ass hogs all the space under the desk in the office.” With that you leave, shoving your earbuds in. As you go, you take a photo of the shop class door with the yellow caution tape over it and send it to the guys. You text them, asking if you can hang out at the junkyard.

House rule: no skipping class to come see them. If you got off early that was another story. As you leave the building, you get a text from your mom. You didn’t tell her about shop class but she asks if you’re going to the junkyard. Which means she knows even without you telling her.

Y/N: yeah, shop is cancelled.

Mom: homework?

Y/N: was going to do it there.

Mom: Sleepover?

Y/N: maybe.

Mom: stay safe.

Y/N: I will.

You sigh and finally get a reply from the guys. They’re out but they’ll see you at the junkyard. Which meant you’d be able to do some homework by yourself.

There’s one of those giant storm shelters at the yard. It used to be for sorting junk like appliances, propane tanks, electronics, car parts, etc. Any equipment or machinery in there had either been removed or was completely broken down. Now it was your gang’s pad, complete with old beat up couches, a small fridge, a few tables and chairs, and whatever project was being worked on. There was a small loft area for you as well, filled with slapping bags, blankets that rivalled Swiss cheese and ratty cushions.

When you get to the junkyard you find the hole in the fence you use to sneak in and make your way down the dirt path. As you walk you notice some of the piles had been sifted through. Odd. The guys usually waited for you before sifting through the piles. Maybe they wanted an early start before going off to do whatever they were doing now. You reach the building and plop down on one of the couches, enjoying the silence and what sounds like some more trucks dropping off junk.

Kyle reclined on the couch leaning against your shoulder to bug you. They’d brought dinner for you, and Price was supposed to arrive later tonight. Johnny and Simon were working on a car they’d been trying to fix for some time. They got a new part for it and were doing some more work. Kyle was stepping back to bug you for a bit. He sees you more focused on your text book and not saying too much.

“What is the square root of Canada?” He asks. You don’t reply, so he replies for you, taking your jaw in his hand and poorly imitating your voice. “35 to the power of-“

“Fuck off.” You mutter shoving his hand away. Kyle sits up and looks at you. Something happened today, hell something happens everyday but something has you ticked off. Kyle gets up and grabs two flashlights, before swiping the textbook out of your hands. Your shoulders slump as you take it and pull the hood up on your sweater, zipping up your coat. Kyle takes his off the couch.

“Going out!” He calls, and gets a wave from Simon.

Outside you turn on the flashlight, walking with him along the dirt trail, keeping your flashlight low. You have your hands in your pockets and you feel a pat on your bicep. Kyle hands you work gloves. You take them, and continue walking.

“What happened this time?” He asks. You bump him gently, showing silently your appreciation for his company.

“Same old.” You say. Gaz sighs.

“You can’t let it get to you.” Gaz says. “They don’t know you, so why should you let them judge you?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, they treat me like I have, and won’t stop!” You argue.

“I know I know.” Kyle says, nodding. “Nothing wrong with a few comebacks. You have to remember though you are a beast among lions.”

“What kind of a metaphor is that?” You ask, half amused, half frustrated.

“They are testing you, trying to get you to act up so they have a reason to get you into more trouble. But you’re a much more powerful being, because you are more mature. You’ve grown up faster than them and they don’t like it.”

“So this is some initiation?” You ask, as you both start going off the trail to start checking for new loads.

“Nah. They’re egging you on to see if you’ll break or try to be one of them. You refuse to be one of them, and they can see that. So they go with the former.” He explains.

“…they insulted mom.” You mutter and he stops.

“You know the truth.”

“They don’t and then they go around talking about her like she’s some whore!” You argue, getting a little upset.

“She’s not. You know that.” He says. “And that’s all that matters.”

You nod. Then you both hear something. The two of you look in the direction of the sound, towards a pile that was deflating. Animal weren’t uncommon in the junk yard. However you’ve never heard this sort of metallic animal noise. It sounds like a raptor. Kyle puts an arm out, keeping you back, and shining a light at the pile. You’re frozen in place while Kyle moves closer. He only gets a couple steps before a head pokes out and you both are still as possible.

A metallic raptor looks at the two of you tilting its head curiously.

“Please don’t quote Jurassic Park.” You say quietly. Before Kyle could respond the raptor stalks out, keeping its focus on you. You’d heard about robotic aliens online but you’d taken it in as conspiracy. Guess this is how believers are made.

The creature makes another metallic growl, sniffing at Kyle. You’re impressed he can stay so still. The raptor’s claws are razors, with its spine and head looking like it was decorated with feathers from various fan blades. It’s around your size, so Kyle is taller but he’s also unarmed. Except for the flashlight. The eyes glow as they stare at the two of you, they’re a golden yellow.

It makes another small cry before walking away, and then looking back at you.

Without thinking you slowly move towards it. Kyle tries to stop you but the raptor approaches you both again. It comes closer, until you’re eye to eye with it. Your heart is pounding, and you wonder if it can hear it. It makes an odd sound, almost like a coo. You catch a glimpse at its teeth, and they’re sharper than any nail you’ve seen.

It walks away from you, before turning back at a short distance from you both. It’s waiting.

Kyle exchanges a look with you.

“We should follow it.” You say, seeing the creature shift from foot to foot anxious. Kyle opens his mouth to argue but honestly, he doesn’t know what to make of it.

“We have to tell Soap and Ghost.” He says.

“I’ll follow it, you go get them.” You say, and start following it before Kyle can protest. Kyle texts them, instead not about to ditch you. Your mother would kill him, and she could out run him.

The critter runs up ahead and you hug after it. It waits for you to catch up before hurrying off again. In between its movements it picks around the trash looking for something. It seems to find whatever it’s looking for but you can’t make out what it is.

It keeps going and eventually rounds the bend behind a much larger pile of junk. You’re not unfamiliar with these mountains, too dangerous to scale and picking through it could cause a collapse. You hesitate now, unsure about what could be on the other side. Kyle is nervous too.

“We should wait for the others.” Kyle suggests. You don’t mind waiting. Following the creature was a complete whim. For all they knew behind the mountain was a whole flock. You look around and find a long pipe. Not perfect, but it will do. Hopefully.

You wait a while and you can hear footsteps, from two large men and the raptor. It pokes its head out and then its whole body when Ghost and Soap see it eyes wide. If Ghost is scared he doesn’t show it, Soap just tenses.

“The bloody ‘ell is that.” He asks. It comes out from its hiding place and approaches you. You approach it, meeting halfway. It claws the ground restless.

“It needs help I think.” You say looking at it. It take off yet again, and you follow it behind the mountain where you freeze up. There’s a huge dinobot before you. It’s breathing heavily, sounding like the brakes of a bus. It’s another dinosaur, but this one is huge it looks like a triceratops. It’s weak too. When you look at the raptor you see it nudging something closer to it. Mustering your courage you move closer, while the other three hold back. You find at the raptors feet are batteries.

So many questions run through your mind, but the raptor gives you this almost pleading look. You look back at the guys who look tense, but keep their lights on.

“What do we do now?”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @tai-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 3

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Masterlist

Before to start... thank you for your support and please remember English is not my first language.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

You don't go to work. You said you were dizzy. And in a way it is true: yesterday turned out to be anything but boring.

You stay in bed for a while staring at the ceiling, then you decide to start writing a new story on the computer. Not quite sure where to start, the paper on the computer remains blank.

You make a cup of coffee and sip it, thinking that if you actually started writing about yourself, you would probably write that this is the trivial story of a young woman.

You shake your head.

Your gaze falls on the forest green jacket Joel had lent you last night.

You take it in your hands and then bring it close to your nose and inhale deeply.

You're not even sure why you're doing this.

It's a strong smell, it smells like a mix of woods and liquor. You like it.

You, who never liked penetrating scents, find yourself thinking that Joel Miller's may be a good exception.

At that moment, a paper slips from a pocket of his jacket.

You shouldn't pry into other people's business, but curiosity gets the best of you.

You grab the paper, which you discover is a photograph folded in half; it's old, torned and faded. You look at the two subjects in the picture and immediately realize that the man is Joel, he's so young, his hair slightly thicker and curlier, he has a huge smile that makes you smile too, and then you observe he's holding a child of about four or five years old, she has thick dark curly hair too and she's smiling too.

Is this his daughter?

It looks like it, otherwise why would he be holding her? Or why would he keep this picture?

You stare at the picture for a few more moments, then fold it up suddenly feeling like an intruder.

You hide the jacket in a leather-colored backpack that in turn was hiding at the bottom of your bedroom closet.

When your mother returns the next day, she starts again with the usual string of questions. The usual routine created between the two of you.

"How was your guitar lesson?" she asks, adding this question to the many others.

"Fine." you lie. You didn't strum anything, you met your teacher's brother who has a very peculiar character, and on the same day you met a boy named Jack whom you promised to see again.

"And you don't tell me anything about it?" she asks again.

You tell in broad strokes that he taught you how to play some new chords, another lie, and that the next lesson will be tomorrow.

You tell nothing about yesterday's events. You already know she wouldn't understand and especially if she knew about your teacher, Tommy Miller, who left town, she wouldn't let you out again.

"In a hurry to get back to your bubble?" that provocative question from the other Miller echoes in you.

Maybe you can pretend to go to the Miller's and instead go to Jack's, you think, you're much more eager to see him than you ever thought you would be.

"You've been distracted lately. You got somethin' to say to me?" your mother asks again, noticing your blank expression.

"No." you reply, shaking your head and smiling at her pretending everything is as usual.

Part of you knows that it's wrong to lie to your parent, but when that parent is your mother well maybe it's okay.

The next morning, you have an unfamiliar heartbeat. You're not sure why.

Maybe because you have to pretend to go to your music class? What are you going to do?

Will you go up and then what?

Will you backtrack and go to Jack's?

Joel might not be there or if he was still in the house, you couldn't run away this time like you did two days before.

You found yourself filled with doubt, but you can't tell anyone the thruth.

You are in a strange situation, but it intrigues you because it's very different from the many ordinary situations about your life.

It's five o'clock and your mother leaves you outside the building, she makes sure you enter in and then leaves.

You breathe deeply adjusting the leather-colored backpack on your shoulders and climb in.

Your mother asked why the backpack was there, and you explained - lying - that Mr. Miller asked you to write chords as an "assignment" for the next class. Strangely, she didn't object; she just nod.

You are on the landing on the top floor, about to approach, when the door of the Miller house opens and Joel appears.

He's closing the door, and you watch him in silence. He's wearing tight dark jeans and a dark windbreaker.

You don't know what to do or what to say.

When he turns around, you find your eyes meeting, and you feel the same sensation as two days before: you feel naked.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, looking at your face.

"Um..." you can't found excuses, then you remember about the jacket hidden in your backpack "I brought your jacket back." you say slipping your backpack off you, setting it on the ground and pulling out his jacket.

"You didn't have to, babygirl," he replies with a small smile.

You return it without making eye contact. That pet name you don't know whether it irritates you more or makes you uncomfortable.

You don't know why you react like that, two days before you were so swaggering, today his mere glance is enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

He reaches out, grabbing your jacket, but doing so he places his hands on yours forcing you to look up, and you, as if you had taken the current, retract your hands and the jacket falls to the feet of both of you.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asks you in a quiet tone.

You are about to open your mouth and say yes, but then you reconsider and find yourself shaking your head and whispering a timid no.

"Really? From the way you ran away the other day I'd say yes." he says looking at you with those big dark eyes of his, you find yourself shaking your head unable to utter a word as if prey to a mysterious spell.

"Use your words, baby doll, I won't bite," he adds again.

"I don't - I'm not afraid of you." you say, but your tone of voice betrays you.

He nods and then picks up his jacket from the floor. Fortunately, he doesn't add anything else.

"I guess you came for your guitar lesson," he continues, looking you in the eye.

You nod, not sure what turn this other afternoon will take.

"Fine. If you want from today I'll be your teacher." he says still looking you in the eyes to watch your every smallest reaction.

He, Joel Miller, your teacher?

Why does this suddenly intrigue you?

"I don't--" you are about to say, but it's him once again who interrupts the disjointed stream of thoughts that cross your mind "I promise, I won't bite."

He smiles at you and you find yourself smiling back at him.

Life is strange. Until two days ago you would never have believed that you knew a man like Joel and that he could be prickly, ironic and sweet at the same time.

"All right, bad wolf," you say, reminding him about the nickname he used for himself at the sight of you startled by his presence.

"Good." he says with a half smile on his face "Now come with me." he adds passing you and making to go down the stairs.

"But why don't we...?" you ask confusedly following him with your gaze.

"Come with me." he urges and you follow him a couple of steps away.

You step outside the building, he holds the door for you to leave and you step out. You turn the corner and see him open his SUV "Where are we going?" you ask him cautious.

"To my house. You still want to take guitar lessons, right?"

You nod.

"So, get in," he adds, inviting you to get in the car.

You look toward the bar, as if Jack is there. He might not be on duty, he might be in the backroom, he might be busy, but you look anyway and hope that-even if fleetingly-he sees you.

"Romeo's not here," he warns you piquantly as he gets into the car.

"What do you know?" you ask him as you get in and close the door.

He starts the car and immediately the radio turns on and a song plays, you ignore it's author; it's not a recent song, the tempo is somber and slow, the singer seems to have been disappointed by something that happened in the past, you swallow and look up into his face.

Is it possible that a man like him, on the surface so confident, is actually very sad?

He looks at your face too, it's a moment and then you decide to look away.

His eyes almost seem to want to read you inside, and you don't know if you want someone, him, to.

"So you didn't answer me," you say as you look toward the street and see that you're pulling away from the block where you went until that day with your mother to attend class with Tommy.

"His car is not there," he replies to you turning right with the SUV.

"And how do you know what his is car? What are you doing spying on others?" you ask puzzled.

"No." he says "I just have a passion for cars, I remember all the cars and some license plates of some people's vehicles."

"The unwanted ones." you add, turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

He looks at you and smiles mockingly and then shakes his head and looks ahead.

"Is your house far away?" you ask him, changing the subject completely.

"It's a couple of blocks away," he replies looking ahead at you.

"What am I going to do with my mother, what do I tell her?" you ask aloud, but it's a thought more than a real question.

"How long does class usually last?" he asks you.

"Two hours." you answer, looking back at him.

He nods, "Well, we'll be out there in a couple of hours. Don't worry." he tells you.

You breathe heavily.

"Why were you at Tommy's house two days ago?" you ask him curiously.

"He asked me to warn his student that classes are over," he replies to you without looking away from the road.

You wrinkle your forehead, "But if classes are over, then why did you propose to be my teacher?" you ask him sincerely curious and puzzled.

"Because I thought you wanted to continue taking classes. Am I wrong?"

You swallow. You never really cared about the guitar, you only ever did it to please your mother and then to escape her.

"Are you afraid I might hurt you?" he asks, stopping in front of a two-story house and looking into your face.

"As far as I know, you could be anyone," you reply before pondering.

"You're right." he agrees "Well, how about this, if you feel more comfortable we can be on the porch, but then mommy might see you." he continues "What would you choose?"

You caged yourself with your own words and paranoia probably.

"All right. Let's go inside." you reply as you roll your eyes and get out of the SUV.

He switches off the car and gets out, walks past you and up to the front door with stained glass windows to the sides and opens it.

"Please, come in." he says, inviting you to follow him.

When you enter his house, you immediately notice the wooden floor, the ruined walls and ceiling, the decorations, the rural decorations, some landscape paintings. Just inside the front door, there is a console table with a lamp, a brush, a handmade ashtray and a magazine, you then see a table with a potted plant and two animal carvings. Next to the table there is a coat rack. On the opposite wall a coat rack and a shelf on which there are more carved animals.

You see the living room from a distance, notice the sofa, an armchair and a coffee table, two large bookcases, a widescreen television, and then in the center of the room on the wall the fireplace.

On the opposite side an open plan kitchen with a small island.

It's a big home and it's really big for a man only.

"Are you ... um, married?" you ask him not knowing exactly what to say.

He glances at you for a brief moment blankly "No." he replies "Go ahead and take off your jacket, honey." he adds and then walks past you and places his green jacket - the one he lent you - on the coat rack a short distance from the two of you and into the kitchen.

You obey and hang it next to his jacket, following him a short distance without taking your eyes off him.

You see him moving nimbly around the kitchen, see him intent on turning on the coffee maker and putting a cup under the dispenser.

"Would you like a glass of water?" he asks bringing you back to reality "So maybe you can start breathing normally again." he adds.

"I'm breathing normally!" you exclaim caught red-handed.

He looks at you raising an eyebrow "Sure, and I played with Bob Dylan!"

You look away from his face and look around.

"I told you, I won't bite." he repeats trying to reassure you "So, would you like a glass of water?"

"N - no." you reply, shaking your head.

He turns his back on you as the coffee comes out of the dispenser "Tell me, exactly what did you and Tommy do?"

"What do you mean?" you ask blushing.

He looks at you and noticing your reaction, he smiles vigorously "What did he teach you until two days ago? Chords, notes, compositions, what?" he asks you.

You try to relax, realizing that you are stiff, completely stiff in the middle of the room and gave a ridiculous answer "Um...he taught me how to use the pick, the notes on the sheet music and the first four chords." you answer him trying to remember exactly the things Tommy taught you.

"The pick?!" he snorts, shaking his head.

"No good?" you ask him puzzled.

"Yes, but I prefer to use my fingers," he replies, looking at your face.

You immediately look away, catching an almost obvious malice in his tone and words.

"Did he make you use your own guitar or...?"

"His own," you answer immediately.

"And how long have you been taking lessons with him?" he asks you, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning against the kitchen cabinet.

"One year. Although, before the guitar, he taught me how to play the piano." he nods "He was better at explaining to me how to play the piano." you add though it is an irrelevant information.

"I see." he says and then drinks his coffee "Shall we begin?"

The lesson - your first lesson together - takes place in the living room, on his dark leather couch, he uses his guitar, it's beautiful, you are struck by the skill with which he caresses the strings of the instrument, he's delicate, he's firm, you are enchanted. You didn't think that a person like him could play an instrument and know how to cause you chills. He makes you rehearse the chords he has just played and you see him on the bias nod slowly, then finish with a good girl. You swallow.

No one has ever called you that.

Gina - one of your best friends - always says that guys use it when they want to fuck you or intend to show a particular interest in that way.

But Gina is unreliable; she's one of those who always thinks about sex.

Maybe that doesn't apply to Joel. Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he asks noticing your blank stare.

"Yes." you nod.

"Keep going." he says.

He makes you try other simple chords, corrects you where necessary, watches you, watches your hands touch the strings. He smiles nodding most of the time, other times he makes you get up and stands behind you squeezing between the guitar and his massive body to show you how to hold the guitar correctly or which strings to pluck if you make a mistake.

Feeling his warmth and presence shock you perhaps more than it should.

"Are you okay?" he asks you again.

"Yes. Yes, yes," you reply, nodding vigorously and swallowing.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks you.

"N - no." you reply, but your tone of voice betrays you.

"All right. That's enough for today." he announces.

You look up at the overhead clock, which reads 6:15, still forty-five minutes to go.

Your heart is pounding in your chest for no reason. He picks up the guitar and places it in its case and zippers it back up.

"I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable," he says looking at your face again.

"No, you don't make me uncomfortable."

Lie.

He nods, but you're sure he doesn't believe you.

"You have a beautiful home." you say looking around.

He smiles nodding and looking your way.

"Do you light that one?" you ask him pointing to the fireplace.

He smiles, "Every now and then. Indeed, I have to take a look at the chimney tomorrow." he replies.

"Do you take care of that?" you ask him curiously.

"Yes." he replies, smiling.

"What exactly do you take care of?"

"I work as a contractor," he replies.

"What about the guitar?"

He smiles, it's a different smile though, "That ... was born out of love. I mean, my partner at the time loved the Creedence Clearwater Revival and so to win her over, I learned how to play guitar and some of their compositions." you nod "You don't have a clue who they are, do you?" you shake your head, he smiles "Anyway, it worked and so that's why I know how to play guitar." he adds hastily.

"So, you're a self-taught player."

He nods.

"That's admirable." you comment looking at him impressed.

"And why do you play?" he asks.

"My mother." you answer with a sigh by sitting back down on the couch "She wants me to do good things my father did." you add.

"I see." he says reaching over and sitting down next to you.

He is close, but not close enough to touch or brush against you.

"Is it just you and her?"

You nod "Yes, and believe me she is enough for both parents."

He smiles "Don't you miss your father?"

No one had ever really asked you, no one perhaps really cared.

"When I was little, maybe. Today, no. My mother is suffocating for two." you answer him, rolling your eyes and smiling at him.

"Why do you do everything she tells you? I mean, how old are you? Twenty, twenty-five?" he asks you again.

"Twenty-nine." you reply, "I know, don't say anything. I'm a hopeless case. I should be free, able to move on my own, I tried, but in the end my mother always found a way to cage me."

"And you never have the wish to fly away? To be free?" he asks you without adding mocking words.

You look at him, "Yes. I wish that more than anything else, but then I think my mother basically does it to protect me. She's afraid, I think."

"And about what? Afraid to lose you?" he asks.

"Don't know. I think she was strongly disappointed in my father's behavior. She never wanted to tell me in detail what happened, but I know that he did something serious and that he left and then came back and then left again and never came back. Since then she has been like that. She controls every aspect of my life, what I say, what I do, who I hang out with, what I write, where I work. Everything." you don't really know why you are telling him all these things about your life, you just know that he listens to you and he's genuinely interested in what you are saying.

"What's your dream, baby?" he asks you, moving a strand of hair behind your ear in a tone that is gentle and a far cry from the sing-songy tones of the previous days or a few minutes before.

You widen your eyes as you feel your heart pounding, no one has ever used this pet name or moved a strand of hair behind your ear. You decide to answer so as not to make it worse, "Um, writing. Romance novels." you find yourself smiling and shaking your head.

"Sounds good." he says.

"Yeah, well ... you know, I had enrolled in a writing class a couple of years ago and the guy who was teaching the class had given us the assignment to write something. I did it and my mother freaked out. The reason? I had signed up without her permission and I was writing junk."

You put your head down, still remembering the gesture she made, took the computer you paid for with your work money and threw it on the floor, yelling at you that you should never do such a thing again and that writing would never help you in the real world.

"I'm sorry, honey. Your life is not easy or good at all." he tells you, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'm used to it, I guess." you say keeping your head down trying to preserve a modicum of self-control after receiving these sweet gestures from him "You don't know how I'd like to do the things everyone does, getting drunk for example, my friends do it every Saturday, I've never done it. Or, driving, I have a license, but my mother won't let me drive. Or again, I would like to travel, I would like to go to the lake, you know the one just outside the city?" he nods "I would like to go there, spend a day in nature. I would like to fall in love. There are so many things I'd like to do, but ... I already know I can't do them."

"Fly away. Leave everything." he tells you with an exhortant tone of voice "Parents often make mistakes, they sometimes make serious mistakes, they made mistakes in the past and they fear that their children will make mistakes too, but no parent should prevent their son or daughter from making their own choices, making mistakes perhaps, but it's precisely when they make mistakes that parents can maybe advise 'em and guiding 'em, without forcing 'em, toward their own path."

You look at him for a long moment in the face "You said some beautiful things." you say "You have no idea how much I wish my mother was a simple guide, I'd like she could listen to me once in a while...!" you exclaim in an almost pained tone look him in the eye "I'm sorry if I'm boring you. You will already have your own boredom without adding mine."

"No." he says laying his hand on yours absentmindedly resting on your knee "Whenever you want, I'm here. I'm not your age, but I'm listening. If you want." he adds with a broad smile.

"Why, how old are you?" you ask him.

"Guess." he tells you.

"Um, forty?"

He shakes his head.

"Forty-two, forty-five...?" you guess again.

"Forty-seven." he finally says.

Forty-seven years is a long, long time, but for some strange reason you don't feel all the difference you should feel.

You nod.

"Does my age make you feel even more uncomfortable?" he asks, peering carefully your face and expression.

It should. Probably.

"No." you just answer him, "We're not doing anything illegal."

"Right." he agrees nodding.

You remain silent for a moment, then he looks at you again and says, "Tomorrow, would you like to accompany me somewhere?"

"Yes, that's fine," you answer him nodding "Why don't you like Jack?" you ask him after a few moments of silence.

He spreads his legs slightly, resting his elbows on his thighs "I have nothing against him."

"Yet you give him these unkind nicknames," you reply.

"I have nothing against him." he repeats "You don't like Romeo?"

"No, Romeo and Juliet had a horrible epilogue."

"I know, I know the tragedy!" he exclaims crossing his arms "Are you afraid your mother will object like Juliet Capulet's family?"

You roll your eyes "No one killed anyone, so I don't think it's appropriate to create tragedy where there is none," you say, shaking your head.

"You like that guy, little girl, don't you?" he asks you with a small grin.

You rock back on your heels biting your lower lip, feel your cheeks pucker, look away completely and hear him laugh.

"I knew it, well then I'll see this new love blossom!"

You look out the window, "You won't see anything at all instead," you sigh sadly.

"And why is that?" he asks as he gets up and joins you at the window, you see him leaning against the opposite side of the window "I was just teasing you a little, I would never spy on you!" he clarifies in a serious and sorry tone.

"Oh, well, thank God!" you exclaim looking him in the eye "The problem is not you. It's not him. It's not my mother -- it's me." you say lowering your gaze and then turning it toward the street "Jack intrigues me, I like the way he thinks, the effort he puts into his work, his study. He's interesting."

"So what? Where's the problem?" he asks.

"But why should he be interested in someone like me, a common person who says and thinks common things, nothing extraordinary."

"You are a sweet and polite girl, and that's the foremost thing. Then you may have some passions in common. You don't have anything that would make you feel less than others." he tells you by stroking your face with the back of his hand, you feel the roughness of it and find yourself instinctively closing your eyes.

However, you immediately open your eyes again and find his brown eyes intent on peering you; the expression in his eyes is strangely sweet. There is no trace of irony, only sweetness, and it causes you to swallow and make your heart pound.

Your heart beats faster now than during your meeting with Jack, and it destabilizes you.

"Thank you." you say only. Unable to add anything else, his gaze has sent you into a state of utter confusion. You expressed your puzzlement that Jack didn't like you; yet, now you find yourself feeling lost in his dark eyes and his mature face.

"Excuse me for saying yesterday that you had a wife," you tell him, you don't even know what it has to do with this strange moment created between you, but you need something to break it up and return to what you were: two distant people who don't like each other at first sight.

He shakes his head "You don't have to. It's..." he finally pulls his hand away from your face and shakes his head "...been a long time ago." he concludes by lowering his head and walking away.

"So you've been married?" you ask unable to let it go.

He looks at you and lets you know with just a gaze that you have talked too much, you lower your gaze biting your lower lip softly.

"We'll talk about it maybe another time," he tells you in a quiet tone despite that look he gave you.

You nod again with your head down. You entered perhaps into a part of his life that he doesn't want to share with a perfect stranger such as you, or perhaps it hurts him too much to talk about it. Then again, if not, why would he have that worn-out photograph of that little girl?

Perhaps she's the child of this probably failed marriage.

It would not be the first marriage to fail, but it seems that this one hurted, and still hurts Joel.

"I'll drive you back in front of my brother's house. It's only 20 minutes away now."

You nod, then pick up your sheet music on which Joel marked chords by slipping it into your backpack, put on your jacket, and wait outside the door for him to get dressed to leave, too.

You wonder what could have happened to Mr. Miller's marriage, what could have caused it to founder, maybe he cheated on her and what you had seen in his eyes was remorse or maybe regret for cheating on her, or maybe he was the one who had been cheated on and therefore what you had seen was still resentment for the humiliation he had suffered. What if perhaps Mr. Miller's wife had cheated on him with Tommy?

Now your mind wanders and you're so lost in these speculations that you jump when Joel brushes your arm to tell you it's time to go, only to add a sleeping beauty pet name that makes you roll your eyes.

When you get into the car, he immediately turns the fan on and again starts up a song you've never heard before, but you guess the singer is not exactly contemporary, extolling young love, the love that blossoms between two lovers. You are trying to guess who the singer is, but you discover Joel watching you intensely in your face "What?" you ask him puzzled and intrigued by that look. The same one he had given you before, but as before you can't understand its meaning.

He shrugs and then turns his gaze back to the road, you shrug, unable to understand his attitude.

"Tell me." you boost him "It's about before, isn't it? Excuse me, please," you add apologetically.

"Ya know, I was trying to remember how I saw love at your age. Definitely not a catch like today."

"Is that what you think about love? A waste of time, a catch? I know it's none of my business, but who is the idiot who made you this?" you ask, turning a curious and a sad look on him.

Joel doesn't speak, he doesn't speak the whole way. When you are now in front of Tommy's building, he sets the parking brake and looks at you, you give him an equally mute look. You are about to greet him and tell him that he confirms himself as a strange person, but then he says, "Sorry about before." he hastens to add, "About love."

You nod as if you understood something about it, but you understood nothing about what happened.

"That will be the topic of the next class," he tells you.

"I don't want you to feel obligated to talk to me about it. I'm just an inexperienced girl who's coming into love for the first time - or I think it's love, I don't know - and to hear someone talk about it as if it's a tragedy, it makes me curious and sad at the same time." you explain to him.

He nods "Good thing you won't be unlucky in love." like me, he was probably about to say, or at any rate you had the feeling he was about to say it.

"I'm sorry, Joel." you say reaching out to him and hugging him by the shoulders, you feel him stiff and you, regretting this outburst, quickly pull away saying, "Thanks for the ride." having said that you get out of the SUV and enter the bar.

You look for Jack, but - as Joel had told you before - he's not there. Meanwhile, you see him pull up and stand there in front of the building, not getting out. He looks down the street and occasionally toward you. This attitude confuses you. He wants to be close to you but keep you at a distance at the same time.

This manner of his definitely complicates everything and confuses your every thought.

[eris-snow]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

Tags: bakugou x gn!reader, fluff, comfort, crying, swearing (as usual)

Been feeling a little inferior to those around me lately. It's something I'm sure we can all relate to, so I hope this brings comfort to those who feel like they're never good enough. Katsuki Bakugou is surprisingly good as a comfort character.

Today was just not your day. You've had these days. The ones when you would feel like you were about to cave inward. The days that you feel your strong front collapse because of the stress and pressure you exert on yourself.

Today isn't any different. Everyone in your class is constantly testing the limits, sky-rocketing past boundaries, while you...well, you...

You're just learning how to grow and improve. U.A. is a school where you need to aim for the top if you don't want to be left behind. Because of this, you feel like you're slipping further and further behind in class.

Momo is good at academics. Shoto is good at combat. Everyone is improving while you're trying so hard not to seem like a failure.

You're not bad, per se. But just seeing your classmates overcome their own boundaries and overtake you sow seeds of deep insecurity in your heart.

Today, was the day something finally snaps.

Bakugou comes over to help you study, armed with assessment books and dons thinned-rimmed glasses that make him look more intelligent and more mature. He still yells, mind you.

Every time you get a question wrong, he screams his head off while pointing out where you went wrong. He waits for you to solve the problem, and if you get it wrong again, the cycle continues. Rinse and repeat.

It got to the point when you were on the brink of tears, drawing a shaky breath as Bakugou eyeballed you write your equations with a quivering hand. You knew you'd asked for his help, even mentally fortressed yourself to focus on what you can do to improve, but...

"Dumbass, come on! This problem's fucking easy, an idiot like you can handle it!" Bakugou barks.

It's a final nudge over the delicately crafted wall that blocks out your emotions. A droplet of sorrow weasels its way past your defences, and your dam breaks.

Tears of helplessness flood your eyes as they splatter on your paper, your shaky hand pausing as you attempt to control these overwhelming feelings of inferiority gushing out.

Bakugou's still here, he can see everything, you scream at yourself...but your tears can't stop flowing. You just sit there, frozen, with tears streaming down your face and a trembling hand clutching your pencil so hard it could break.

Bakugou practically reels at the sight of you crying.

"I-I'm so sorry, Bakugou, I just," You sniffled, nose getting clogged up. "It's just...I-give me a minute," Grabbing a couple of tissues, you hastily blow your nose, trying to salvage the scrapes of dignity you have left.

"W-We can continue now, I just-" You try to clear your voice, or at least stable it to some degree. "That was just-"

"Fuck work, Y/n," He states bluntly, noticeably calling you by your first name. He tosses the book off your desk, slams his glasses on it and spins your chair to face him. "What, in the name of everloving hell is going on? Nah, don't shake that pretty little head of yours. Don't you lie to me," He snarls, words softening. "You're going through shit and you're clearly struggling, so What. Is. It."

A new round of tears hit your eyes as you choke back a sob. "I just-" Your voice is barely coherent now. Your watery eyes meet his, and it makes your breath hitch.

Bakugou's eyes were glowing with genuine care. Under those piercing, vermilion-red eyes, you can see his raw intentions laid bare.

He cares.

The words spill from your mouth as you babble, forcing yourself to admit the things you've wanted to hide, deny or avoid this entire term.

How you spent the entire lesson on Mathematics just barely grasping the teacher's words.

How hard you've been working.

How everything you do or try still makes it seem your improvement rate is put on the lowest setting of a slow-moving conveyor belt.

And Bakugou just...listens. He sits there patiently with an attentive gaze, each word you say making his eyes gaze softer and softer until it reeks of empathy for you.

He lets you explain how you feel, and doesn't say a word as you stuff your face with tissues and strewn them on the ground.

"You done?" He asks gruffly when you stop talking, making you nod your head vigorously at him. His eyes narrow on you, "Good,"

In a flash, he stands up and grabs you, pulling you into his embrace as he wraps his warm, comforting arms around you.

"Now listen here, Y/n," He says, voice hushed but holding conviction. "I'll say this once and I'll say it until it gets into that thick skull of yours. You have no right to work yourself down that hard. I don't care what words you're branding yourself as inside that blasted mind of yours, but you are not a failure."

He takes a deep breath and continues. "You are fucking incredible no matter how stupid you think you are, and you're already working even harder than most extras in our level. So can you please stop hurting my Y/n and realise how amazing you really are?"

Your breath catches.

My Y/n.

You must be going deaf or something. There's no way in a million years that he'd call you that.

"Bakugou-"

"Say it."

"I-I-" You bury your head into his shoulder, stumbling over the embarrassingly confident words he described you with. "I'm not a failure," Your voice wobbles. Bakugou raises an eyebrow. "And?"

"I'm fucking incredible." You say, heat rushing to your cheeks.

You both pull away as you wipe your tears away. Bakugou cracks a satisfied grin. "Good. Now screw this shit, we're getting a tub of ice cream in here. You need a goddamn break."

He doesn't fix your problems magically overnight. But that caramel ice cream is a sinful treat as Bakugou makes you take a nap right after the tub is finished.

It's the best sleep you've had in months.

--

When Kirishima hears about this the next day, he is adamently shocked that the both of you can so boldly claim that you're still "just friends".

Katsuki Bakugou is truly, a fucking idiot.

[blooming-dahlia]

My Dear Friend, I Love You - (Late) Valentine’s Day Special! [Riddle Rosehearts]

╰ Ace sighed heavily as the red and pink heart-shaped cards fell out of the box onto the floor. This year, he and Deuce were in charge of the special Valentine's Day mail at NRC because Riddle wanted them to do something more productive than the things they usually did. And Valentine's Day happened to be right around the corner, so as their beloved friend, you suggested they should volunteer as mailmen for that special occasion.

╰ “I had no idea the students here are so affectionate. How many are there?”

╰ “Come on, Ace. We have to sort them and deliver them to the right classes before our first lesson starts.” Deuce was already on his knees, picking up the cards from the floor and reading the classes written under the students' names. Then he started sorting them carefully, making sure nothing gets mixed up. “I could use some help, you know?”

╰ Dissatisfied and still a bit sleepy, Ace knelt down beside his friend and picked up a pink heart made of paper. This one was addressed to Idia Shroud, the housewarden of Ignihyde. A mocking laugh escaped the redhead's lips.

╰ “That’s an interesting one, let’s see what’s written here.”

╰ Suddenly, Deuce snatched the valentine out of Ace's hands and put it on the class 3-B pile. They weren't supposed to read personal things like love letters, but it was obvious that Ace didn't care. As fast as he could, he began to read the contents of another card he spotted.

╰ “Dear Vil Schoenheit, I'm free on Valentine's Day after 7 PM, so maybe we could meet and watch a movie or eat something delicious at a fancy restaurant. If you're interested, please wear your favorite high heels, I want you to step on me with them- what the hell is this?!” Ace burst out laughing like a maniac before placing the heart on the class 3-C pile.

╰ Another minute passed. Deuce still tried to concentrate on his work, while Ace continued to make ridiculous comments on almost every next letter. Some of them were indeed genuine, full of sweet words of affection, while others were more questionable and not entirely serious. Or at least Ace hoped so.

╰ Vil turned out to be the winner in terms of the amount of valentines received, which wasn't surprising. Somehow Malleus Draconia also managed to get the most cards, both from his class and dormitory. Finally, Deuce picked up the last one, which was visibly different from the others. First of all, it wasn't a heart-shaped piece of paper, but an elegantly wrapped letter. Someone definitely wanted to stand out and impress their crush, they thought. But that wasn't the only reason this valentine was intriguing. The mysterious letter was addressed to [Y/N] [L/N] of class 1-A, the non-magical student and best friend of Adeuce duo.

╰ “I don’t trust them.”

╰ Riddle read the draft of his letter once more before turning to Trey, who was standing in the doorway. The special mail was scheduled to start tomorrow and last until the early morning of Valentine's Day before Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade take the mailbox to sort the cards and finally deliver them to their addressees.

╰ The main problem was the fact that this year's mailmen weren't the most responsible people in Night Raven College, and Riddle was well aware of that. There was no way he was going to take the risk of writing an entire essay expressing his true feelings for you, not if it was going to end up in the hands of those two troublemakers.

╰ “Maybe it's time to finally give them a chance and let them do something that would prove their sense of responsibility?”

╰ “No, they will read it, I am absolutely sure.”

╰ “And that’s why you decided to write [Y/N] a love letter starting with ‘My Dear Friend’? Or maybe you’re not certain about your feelings towards them?” Trey noticed. In fact, Riddle had been struggling with his confession to you for some time, and the upcoming Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect opportunity to end that suffering. You were his first love, after all, and it was obvious that Riddle was nervous, even though he tried to act cool most of the time.

╰ He was also curious if you had made a Valentine's card for anyone. Maybe for Ace and Deuce, since they were your best friends? Or maybe a tuna-scented one for Grim? Unless... no, that couldn't be true. Riddle didn't even want to think about you being in love with someone else. He knew it was selfish of him, but he had fallen head over heels for you and there was nothing he could do about it. He had to confess before it's too late, before some other guy steals your heart.

╰ With a sigh, Riddle took a formal paper and concentrated on rewriting his letter on it. Most people cut colorful sheets of paper in the shape of a heart, but that wasn't his style. Trey went back to the kitchen some time later, allowing Riddle to bang his head against the desk in peace. Why was it so hard to confess to someone, even if it was just through a simple letter?

╰ “My Dear Friend- damn, [Y/N] just got friendzoned through a valentine.”

╰ Deuce tried hard to resist the temptation to read the card, but eventually ended up listening carefully to every word Ace read. This time there was no mocking or laughing. While reading it, they weren't quite sure if this was a love confession, since the person who wrote it seemed to think of you more as a friend than a crush. Either it was a friendzone declaration, or this person was just terrible when it comes to feelings.

╰ “I would be honored if you would accept my invitation for a cup of tea and a nice walk afterwards. Sincerely, the housewarden of Heartslabyul, Riddle Rosehearts.” Ace’s eyes widened immediately, his hands almost clenched on the letter. “No way. I mean, I know the housewarden and [Y/N] are on neutral terms, but him sending them a valentine card seems... oddly out of character.”

╰ “It looks like he's just grateful he can count on [Y/N] and nothing more, we don't need to make any serious assumptions based on what we just read. Anyway, let's just put this on the pile and wait for classes to start so we can finally deliver them and get it over with.”

╰ Meanwhile, you've entered the school building together with Grim, who's been annoying you with questions about when you're going to buy him tuna cans for Valentine's Day. He could at least try to pretend to like your gift for him, a cute sweater with "World's #1 Cutest Cat" written on it.

╰ Your first class started few minutes ago, but there was no sign of Ace and Deuce. As you pulled your textbook out of your bag, you stumbled across a nicely wrapped gift with a note attached, and immediately remembered why your friends weren't showing up. You didn't drop your valentine in the special mailbox set aside for the occasion. Instead, you put a lot of effort and love into your gift for Riddle. The worst thing that could happen now was for him to reject you. That thought was the only reason you hesitated to give it to him.

╰ The door opened and the Adeuce duo made their grand entrance. Professor Trein was about to make a comment about them being late, but Ace quickly made that impossible as he began his speech, or rather, shouting. “Class 1-A, here comes your special Valentine's Day mail! We have a lot of them because we're the best class at Night Raven College.”

╰ You watched as your friends handed out Valentine's cards to particular people. At first, you had no idea that the students at NRC celebrated Valentine's Day just like the ones at your old school. It was heartwarming to see the joy on your classmates' faces when they received their cards.

╰ And then Ace placed a card next to your textbook. You looked up at him, confusion in your eyes, but he just grinned and sat down next to Deuce, who was already reading the contents of his own valentine. What had just happened? Someone sent you a valentine? You studied it and noticed that it wasn't a regular card, but a fancy looking envelope with a letter inside. Feeling a bit uncertain, you decided to open it after classes.

╰ It wasn't surprising that Riddle didn't receive any valentine, but deep down he was hoping to see a card with your signature on his classroom desk. He should have known that this feeling was one-sided, and besides, there were no signs of your interest in him on a more romantic level. You often attended the Unbirthday Parties and even spent some time with Riddle privately. When you needed help with your studies, he was always willing to help. But Riddle was drawn to you more than he should, and it was killing him inside.

╰ You stumbled upon Riddle in the school library. At first you weren't sure if you really wanted to approach him, not after reading his letter. It was sincere and sweet, but something about it made you feel uneasy. Riddle thanked you for everything you'd done for him so far, wrote a simple compliment, emphasized the word ‘friend’ a few times, and invited you on... you didn't know if this was a date or not. You felt stupid for expecting more, knowing that Riddle was trying his best.

╰ Riddle looked at the nearby clock and realized it was time to finally leave the library and return to Heartslabyul. You had to act quickly or you would lose your only chance. Just as he got up from his seat, you threw the gift on the table, causing confusion on Riddle's face. Heartslabyul's housewarden blinked a few times and then turned around to see your cool gaze.

╰ “For you.”

╰ And that was it. Riddle didn't even manage to say a word as you ran out of the library, leaving him alone and confused. That wasn't your plan, of course, but it was now or never, right? The only thing you could do now was to hope that Riddle wouldn't think any worse of you, especially since the way you gave him the Valentine's Day gift wasn't the right one. It wouldn't be surprising if he started to ignore you after that.

╰ Opening the box, Riddle found handmade heart-shaped chocolates. He examined them to make sure everything was all right, then carefully took a bite of one. It tasted like heaven, the strawberry filling doing its job perfectly. Riddle ate another chocolate before he began to read the note attached to the box.

╰ There was no doubt that you were smarter than him. Riddle could always give you the letter in person, one in which he wasn't playing around with hiding his true feelings, instead of throwing the other one in the mailbox just because he didn't want Ace and Deuce to find out about his crush on you.

╰ “Dear Riddle. I'm sorry I didn't have the courage to send you a valentine card by special mail. Instead, I wanted to do something different. Trey gladly agreed to help me make these chocolates for you, especially with your favorite flavor filling. Today is Valentine's Day, when both friends and lovers spend time together, give each other gifts, and so on. Let this gift be a reminder that you have people who love and care for you, that you deserve everything that's good and sweet in this world. And if you don't have anyone to celebrate this day with, I would love to be your valentine. Sincerely, [Y/N], your Dear Friend.”

╰ Those last three words were written with a different ink color, which made Riddle quickly realize that you had just added them, probably after reading his letter. The boy sighed, a soft red blush spreading across his face. Then he grabbed the box with the note and made his way back to the Heartslabyul dormitory, where someone special, his dear friend and valentine, was waiting for him.

It's been a long time since I posted something here, I promise to be more active from now on :D

[spicechica]

Quinten Quist x Fem Reader

(Suggested by: @wingswinger )

You and Quinten met as children, as both of your families wanted you two to get to know each other and the fact that Quintens family wanted him to be surrounded by other children. But Quinten wasn’t really the talkative type, always having his nose in a book or paper, or spending his time in the garden instead of being in school. 

His family thought you would be a good influence on him but nothing ever seemed to rarely change. You weren't the best yourself to be honest, you were always distracted by the smallest things and always liked to play near rivers and trees which would cause dirt to rub off on your clothes causing them to stain. You weren’t the brightest in school either which is why you would always go to Quinten when you found something difficult since he was the smartest person you knew. He would always scold you for your lack of knowledge and not paying attention in school, not like he ever went himself. 

When you were both younger he would take you to see his mother, telling how pretty she was and if she would ever wake up. You were really the one person he would talk to about this, as he was always so sad as a child, but through the years he had just gotten used to it and had visited regularly, watching as her skin and hair slowly began to turn white. 

But now you two were both 16. You were constantly staring back at your watch as you waited for Quinten outside the front gate of his large house. You both had agreed to walk each other to your class, or at least Max told you to make sure he goes to his classes. He had missed a lot lately, which had caused for concern from the headmaster, and Max had been forcing him to go. 

You huff as you check your watch again, knowing if you left now you wouldn't be able to make it to the first period. You goan as you toss your bag over the fence, carefully hopping over since the gate was closed. As your feet land on the ground, you hear the familiar sound of a bike chain rustling through the rocks. Quinten, trying to make an escape from Max. 

“Quinten!” You stop in front of him, causing his bike to brake, sending dirt through the air. “You said we were going to class together.” “Well, i changed my mind,” He replied, riding around you in circles. “You're going to get expelled if you keep missing classes. Max has already told your father.” Quinten just chuckled in response. “Would you stop riding that thing and just sit still for a moment.” He stops his bike and rolls his eyes. 

“Now, what's wrong?” You asked. “Nothing, why do you think something's wrong.” “Well, you’ve missed a bunch of lessons, you try to ignore everyone around you, and you’ve been spending most of your time in that dusty attic of yours. Now I think that’s alarm for concern.” 

He sighs. “Alright. I’ve been having these…dreams.” “Dreams?” You raise a brow. “Yes. Everynight, it’s the same. A place with an inside but no outside.” He pulls out a book from his bag. “Daddy gave me this, and look…” He points at a strange photo, almost resembling the same ones he’s drawn in his journal. 

“Now I talked to him, and I thought I could go to school and live with him and study there, like he said when I was younger. But he said he’d think about it.” Your face slowly turns into a frown. “You mean…you’d move.” “Well, yeah. But we could still see each other…even write.” “Yeah, but knowing you you’ll forget.” You cross your arm like a child and stomp your foot. 

He chuckles as he slowly moves his bike next to you. “It’s not official…yet. But, I think I would remember my one friend who has been there for me,” He smirks. “Now, if your still up for it…how about i ride you to school.” You give him a side glance from behind, catching that smug smirk on his face. You sigh in response. “Fine.” 

You climb on the back of his bike, standing on the two bars on the sides of his back tire, balancing yourself on his shoulders. The bike slowly begins to move as he balances both of yours weight, following the trail through the large overhead trees. 

You feel the light breeze hit your face as your hair flows behind you. Luckily you were wearing leggings underneath your skirt or everyone would have gotten a peak of your rear end. You giggle as he begins to pick up the pace a little, holding tighter onto his neck. He laughs as well. 

It was nice for the both of you to spend time together like this. When you both were younger it took some time for you both to get used to each other or even talk. But after a while you both would always be found together playing in the garden or upstairs in the attic where Quinten would spend most of his time. 

Both of your parents would even joke how two looked cute together, like a couple. But that was silly, you and Quinten were just friends, he would never like someone like you…right? You slowly bend over, your face in front of his upside down, smiling. You then noticed a light red tint forming on his cheeks, causing him to awkwardly chuckle. “You alright, your face is turning red.” “Oh, uh, yeah I'm fine…just a little hot.” Hot? It was cool enough to wear a light jacket, and the breeze from the bike ride was already making you a little chilly 

That was strange. It was rare for Quinten to get flustered like that. Is there something wrong with him? Or is it someone? 

(Part 2?)

[tengens-4thwife]

way to go nerd — katsuki bakugou

a post-homework katsuki drabble(ish) for @ifonlyitwasmidnight ! in which katsu pays the reader to do their homework with something better than cash. (college AU) content warnings: smut, fem!reader, praise k!nk mixed with just a smidge of degradation because its katsuki???, public sex, marking, all characters featured are 18+ notes: please don't repost or translate! feel free to reblog & leave feedback! no proofreading/alpha/beta so I expect there are some mistakes! now playing: moonlight — THEY. banners/dividers: @cafekitsune

"You fucking nerd." Katsuki mutters from where he's reading over the paper you wrote for him in the student lounge. "This is actually good." It's late so the place is deserted except for the two of you, relaxing on the overstuffed sofa in the corner of the room, hidden from anyone who could walk passed by a massive bookshelf. At first, you weren't really sure about Katsuki. He was loud and kind of full of himself, but then one day he approached you while you were studying in the library and asked for your help with the homework for your history lesson.

"I hate this stupid subject, what do I gotta know about history for?" he grumbled, kicking back in his chair. "When I'm the number one hero they're gonna write these damn books about me—knowing history is for extras!"

You sighed. You didn't really have time to listen to him—but then he offered you a fat stack of cash in exchange for writing his papers for the rest of the semester. That was four months ago. Four months of quiet meetings like this, where he would lay back on the sofa, his muscular body stretched out as he read over your most recent essay. You're sitting on the floor with your knees pulled up to your chest as you scroll your phone, watching TikToks on your phone while you wait for him to finish.

You are absolutely not noticing the way that Katsuki's t-shirt has rucked up to reveal the deep v of his hips and a glimpse at his cut abs. Because that would mean you'd have to admit that the crush you'd been fostering was real. And that you were actually a little upset that after tonight, you'd have no reason to talk anymore. Katsuki sighs, sitting up to grab his backpack, tucking the paper you wrote for him away neatly. "Way to go y/n," he grins, and you feel your heart squeeze. There's just something in the way he says your name. "Thanks to you, I actually passed."

"Well," you said slowly, clicking your phone screen off. "you don't know that until you submit this one, right?"

"Guess so," he huffed, running a hand through his blond hair. "But you're so smart, there's no way that isn't at least a B."

You nod, but its tense. Now that you're looking at him head on you can't help but feel disappointed. You stand up to leave, grabbing your bag and Katsuki frowns.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," you say tightly. "That was the last paper for the semester, right? That means that we don't have any reason to talk anymore."

Katsuki blinks up at you, his red gaze filled with confusion.

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you stupid or something?"

"Didn't you just say I'm smart," you say, rolling your eyes and turning to go

"I know what I said y/n," he said hotly, standing from the sofa and grabbing your wrist. His hand is so big that it circles the whole thing, his fingers overlapping as he turns you to face him. You have to tilt your head back to look into his eyes. "But now you're acting stupid. Don't you know we're friends?"

"Friends?" you scoff. "Bakugou, you literally only call me if you want something." Katsuki's eyes narrow and the tips of his ears turn pink, his jaw clenching. "That's not true."

"It is," you insist. You don't know why you are goading him. Maybe because you want to prove to yourself that you'll be fine without Katsuki Bakugou in your life, and pissing him off is a sure-fire way that he won't come back asking for more homework help that will lead to months of you pining for him.

"Y/n," Katsuki rumbles, pulling you to his chest. "Since the fuck when do you call me by my last name?"

You swallow hard. Like this, you can feel his body heat. It would be so easy to stand on tiptoe, to bring your lips to his. But you aren't like that. He doesn't want you like that. He's just mad because he thinks he's lost his ticket to good grades for minimal effort—right?

While you're pondering this, Katsuki grows more impatient, grabbing the back of your neck and crushing your mouths together in an unexpected kiss. You groan against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and rubbing your chest against his. "Katsuki—!" you gasp as your lips part, and for a moment, you can see the hero that he's going to be in the cocky tilt of his lips.

"That's better, y/n. Was that so hard?"

"No," you murmur, and just like you'd been thinking about you rise onto tiptoe to kiss him. With every pass of your lips, your breaths are coming shorter, the pair of you panting into each other's mouths as the desperate haze of wanting takes over. Katsuki lifts you by the waist and you instinctually wrap your legs around him, letting him haul you over to that stupid couch you'd been meeting at for months, dropping you onto it so he can cover you with his body. He presses you to the cushions and you can feel his growing erection through the material of your clothes, Katsuki's hands disappearing under your cropped hoodie to grab for the skin at your waist. His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it greedily, throwing the need for being careful out the window.

This might be the only chance you get. You aren't going to waste it worrying.

"Do you do this with all your friends?" You gasp as he breaks the kiss to nip your jaw, kissing a path down your neck so he can suck a bruise into the side of your throat, making your squirm and whine under him.

"No," he grunts, admiring his handiwork. "Jus' you." Katsuki pushes your sweater up, his rough thumb grazing over your nipple through your sports bra. As he makes a move to pull the fabric away you stiffen.

"What if someone comes in?" you breathe, your parted lips puffy from the intensity of his kissing. Like he was trying to mark your mouth too, ruin you for kissing anyone else.

He shrugs, pushing your sports bra up from the bottom to free your breasts. "I'll kill them," he says it so easily, like it was obvious, that you question if he's serious. But before you can get too deep in your head, Katsuki's thick fingers are pinching your nipples, his mouth returning to yours for a nibbling kiss.

Your hands drag down his back, interrupting your kiss briefly as you yank off his hoodie, his t-shirt coming along with it. For a second all you can do is just stare. He's covered in scars already and he's not even a pro-hero yet, his body a tapestry of hard years of training and working. It's fucking glorious.

"Whatcha lookin' at, nerd?" he growls, tweaking your nipple and making you cry out for the way your pussy throbs for him. If your neglected cunt doesn't get some attention soon, you think you're going to snap.

"Stop talking," you insist, grabbing his hair and leading him to your nipple. He takes it into his mouth for a long suck and you shudder. "Please—Katsu—I need you."

He groans and pulled back just enough to get his hands around the short's you're wearing, pulling them down to your knees. There will be time for exploring you with his mouth later—right now, Katsuki is too desperate to fill you up with him. You struggle to yank down his shorts, the pair of you laughing when Katsuki pop's the button for you, helping you to free his perfectly long, fat, and slightly curved cock.

He swipes his fingers through your folds, shivering at how wet you already are for him. "Such a needy little thing," he teases. "All of this is for me?"

You blush and turn your face but that same hand, fingers slick with your arousal catches your chin as he notches his cock at your entrance. "Look at me." he's demanding, but it sounds a lot like begging.

You look into his red eyes, finding a mirror of your own crushing need in his eyes.

Katsuki might be on top of you, but you are now painfully aware that you are the one in control here. That he's just as desperate for you as you are for him.

He takes him a few slow strokes until he's fully inside you, your tight cunt gripping him so tight that he's counting backwards from then just to stop himself from busting right there.

"Please," you beg, the rest of the sentence unsaid between you. Fuck me. Make me feel good. Use my body to make yourself come. They're all true.

Katsuki jerks into action. He's fucking you so hard that you can barely breath, the couch creaking with every punch of his hips as his swollen cock fills you again and again. Your fingers fly over your clit, desperate moans and whimpers escaping your lips with every breath. "Good girl," Katsuki grunts into your ear. "I want to see you cream all over my cock. Can you do that for me?"

Just like that you muscles tense, the intensity of his punishing fucking never slowing as he fucks you right through your orgasm.

"So good for me," he praises. "

You drag your nails down his back and he grunts, holding himself up with one hand on the arm of the sofa he's crushing you against to fuck into you even harder. "Going to paint your insides with my fuckin' cum, baby. Make you look real pretty for me."

You can do little more than cling to him now, your legs wrapped around him, heels digging into his ass to spur him along.

Katsuki's hips stutter and he growls, like he's irritated that his climax is coming. "Fuck," he groans punching into you with a few more erratic, scattered thrusts before he's stilling. "I—I wasn't—done yet." You know he's come, felt the hot splash inside you as climaxed, but Bakugou is still going, like he was personally offended you brought him to bliss so quickly. "I'm not—done!"

"Katsu—" you whimper, your eyes rolling back as he toys with your clit, you moan loudly when you come again, legs trembling. But still, Katsuki won't stop his onslaught. It's too much.

"Katsu— Please! We can do this again."

Katsuki stills then, his expression guarded as you look dreamily up at him. "...That so?"

"Yes, you idiot." you sigh, wrapping you arms around his neck and pulling him down for a clumsy kiss. "You're right,"

"Obviously," he scoffs, a little out of breath. Sweat is glistening on your bodies, he rubs his temple against yours, leaving you wet with him. A couple seconds pass, and when you don't continue he narrows his eyes on you. "About what?"

"We're friends."

Katsuki scowls. "No the fuck we ain't. You're my girlfriend, nerd."

You kiss him on the nose and he softens, his eyelids drooping in post-orgasm exhaustion. "Sure, I'll be your girlfriend."

"I wasn't asking." he insists, snuggling in closer to you.

"No way, don't fall asleep here, dickhead! Let's go back to my dorm." you insist and he groans.

"Okay, fine. Five more minutes."

"I swear to god Katsuki if you fall asleep—" you start but he's so cute while he cuddles you that you just let it go. If someone catches you, they catch you. Your boyfriend will beat their ass.

[crystalsnow95z]

Yoongi throwing up when he's working with Jimin on a song together because of a 24 hour bug, having to give him a shower because he got barf in his hair and Jimin having to put him to bed because he was too weak to walk

This is a prompt my roommate gave me when I first started writing because I lacked confidence to use Yoongi as more than a background character and her bias Jimin. I was going through old drafts and found this. I wanted a story with Yoongi for his birthday and this is the best out of my 4 options.

"We did it! We got through the new choreography without any mistakes!" Jungkook cheers, hugging onto the closest member in excitement, Yoongi pushing him away.

"Jungkook, please don't hug me.. It's too hot for that..." Yoongi complains, relaxing when Jungkook moves to hug j-hope instead.

"Let's take a five minute... break to cool off. Great work, everyone." J-hope praises his members, hugging Jungkook briefly before also sending him away, still trying to catch his own breath.

Yoongi goes to the mirror where he left his water, taking a drink before passing it to Hobi.

"Thanks hyung.." j-hope takes a drink, eyes widening when he realized he finished it. "Sorry, I didn't realize how thirsty I was."

"I'll get us some more water." Jungkook offers when he finishes his own bottle. "It looks like everyone's empty.." he notes watching Jimin share his water with Jin and Taehyung with Namjoon.

"That'd be great." Yoongi says with gratitude. This new choreography has me feeling woozy.. i didn't think I drank that much last night..my tolerance must've went down from when I wasn't drinking. .

"You okay hyung?" Jimin asks, offering Yoongi the last bit of his water,but Yoongi pushes it back towards him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Just tired..i think i drank too much with Dong-hyuk.." Yoongi didn't want to worry Jimin over a little stomach ache. I'll just take something for it if it gets worse.

"Too tired to work on music with me after practice today?" Jimin's asks, wanting to give him the option to back out. He's been working on his own music on top of the team, I shouldn't have asked him yesterday..

"I can still work on music with you Jimin-ah. If you wanted to practice the choreography with me, that's where I'd tell you no." Yoongi tells him, smiling despite the small ripples of pain that moved throughout his lower abdomen.

"Are you sure? It's okay if you're too tired, though. I could ask someone else."Jimin asks again, trying to get a good look at Yoongi, but the ballcap he was wearing cast shadows over his face, making it unreadable.

Jungkook goes over by them, giving both of them a water bottle. "Here hyung. Try to stay hydrated.. you look a little pale Jiminie hyung."

"Thanks Jaykay, I gave all my water to Namjoonie-hyung." Jimin takes a drink. "I'm fine though. I'm more worried about Yoongi hyung."

Yoongi takes small sips, not wanting to risk worsening the ache in his abdomen. "I'm fine. You guys worry too much. I should be worrying about you two with all your extra lessons."

"It's only English, singing and boxing." Jungkook says as if that wasn't a lot on top of their practices, interviews and meetings.

"Let's work on your album at your place Jimin-ah. My studio is a mess right now." Yoongi blushes lightly, recalling his moment of frustration causing a mess of papers he'll have to go through later.

"Tired of looking at your studio?" Jimin muses, smiling when he sees color returning to Yoongi's cheeks after drinking water."I'll make us dinner when we get to my place. I went shopping yesterday."

"Sounds good. It's been quite a while since I had a homemade meal." Yoongi couldn't bring himself to say he wasn't feeling all that hungry when Jimin was so excited about it.

"Alright break time is over. We have one more song I want to get all the way through then we can go home. We have an early morning tommorrow so I don't want us staying too late."

"Hyung dinner is ready. Do you want a bottle of soju with me?" Jimin asks while setting the table. "I made a little bit of everything.."

"No, I'd rather have some tea. We have to get up early and I struggled getting up this morning. You can drink if you want to though." Yoongi waves away the bottle, his medicine he took while Jimin was showering after practice only just now kicking in.

"I'll make us both tea. I didn't think ahead about getting up in the morning.. hobi-hyung will scold me for sure if I'm late a third time this week." Jimin fills a tea kettle with water then takes a seat at the table, taking a bit of rice and stir fry for himself. "Did you really like the third song? I think the lyrics need some work.."

"The lyrics aren't the problem, it's the chorus..it's too rushed.." Yoongi picks up where they left off, getting himself some rice to start with.

"The chorus did feel fast.. should I add a line or..maybe just slow down the music..?" Jimin takes a bite of steak, pulling his notebook closer.

"What if you try this.." Yoongi sings the chorus, changing the notes.

"Oh that sounds good.." Jimin mimicks Yoongi, rushing to get a keyboard.

"Jimin-ah, Jimin-ah take a break to eat.." Yoongi sighs with a smile when he realizes Jimin doesn't hear him, trying to mimic the notes on the keys."The first note is D not C."

"Aish I need to practice more.. could you play it for me?" Jimin asks, Yoongi happy to oblige. The bowl of kimchi fried rice was already sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.

Yoongi hits the notes for Jimin, writing them down."You should ask Supreme Boi to help you, this song is right up his alley."

"Do you think hyung has time to work with me?" Jimin asks. "I'm not as good at writing as you or Hobi hyung or-"

"Don't compare yourself, you're good at writing songs too, you just lack confidence. All of you kids do." Yoongi scolds Jimin, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll ask him then.." jimin blushes at Yoongi's praise, jumping up when he hears the kettle screaming."Ah, the tea is ready."

"Ahhh...mm...hmm.." Jimin sings, trying to match his voice to the notes on the page. "Why can't i get this right?" Jimin asks Yoongi, biting his lip. I sounded so bad..

"You're singing two octaves too high. Are you still nervous? You don't have to be. I've heard you sing a milion times of times." Yoongi tries to calm Jimin's shaken nerves.

"Do you think we should touch up the first verse? Is it too immature? Maybe we should-" Jimin stops when he feels Yoongi's finger touch his lips.

"Jimin-ah, shh. The lyrics are fine. Stop it. Your song is good.. you're just stressing yourself out."Yoongi places his hand on Jimin's shoulder. "I know you're nervous about asking someone to do a collaboration with you, but just because they say no, it doesn't mean your song isn't good. They could just be too busy or don't...mm.." Yoongi moans softly as a ripple of pain bubbles up in his stomach, making him dizzy with nausea.

"Hyung what's wrong? Are you okay?" Jimin wraps his arm around Yoongi's shoulder to keep him from double over.

"My stomach..it..just..don't feel well all of the sudden.." Yoongi speaks softly, lying to the younger member. Why did the medicine wear off already, it's only been two hours..

"Do you feel like you're going to be sick?" Jimin asks, trying to gently lead Yoongi to his feet when he sees the color drain from his lips. "Aiigo Yoongi.."

Yoongi let out a wet burp, his body trembling with cold sweat as he tried to hold down his dinner that was quickly rising up his throat, clinging to Jimins arm for balance. "Jimin-ah.." He whines with urgency when his vision faded, another burp pushing up the meal Jimin made, the sick spraying across the floor halfway to the bathroom. "I'm..I'm sorry..I...I can't.."

"Don't be sorry.. it's okay.. I have a little bin in my room. Just wait here it's closer.." Jimin runs into his room, grabbing the small bin, eyes widening when he hears Yoongi retching again, heart tightening. I should've noticed something was wrong sooner. He's been silently suffering while I feel sorry for myself..

"Here hyung, I'm back.. just move back just a little bit okay?" Jimin pulls him back a bit to be able to place the bin without having Yoongi kneeling in his own sick.

Yoongi takes Jimin's hand, squeezing it when another waterfall of sick pushes up, hitting the plastic liner. "F*ck..." he whimpers wrapping his other hand around his cramping muscles as another mouthful comes.

"I know, I know it hurts.. but you'll feel better once you let it all out.." Jimin tries to sound reassuring, but his voice trembled. I've never seen him so sick.. I can see the sweat rolling off his chin.. is he running a fever?

Jimin reaches to touch the back of Yoongi's neck, shocked at the amount of heat coming off of it. "You're burning up.."

"Hyung..." Yoongi calls weakly before another wave of nausea hits him, thick bile rising up his throat, gagging up more sick.

"Hyung is at home, but I'm here.. it's okay.. I got you.." Jimin gently scratches Yoongi's back, giving his hand a squeeze. I need to calm him down, he's hardly getting a breath in..

Yoongi continued to heave despite having nothing left in his stomach. Make it stop..it hurts so much..I wish I never ate anything today..

"Yoongi, Yoongi-yah you have to take deep breaths..i know its not easy..but you have to try for me..please?' Jimin felt his eyes misting with tears, his heart breaking to hear Yoongi's sharp gasps of pain between the dry heaves.

Yoongi closes his eyes, trying to take deep breaths, moaning softly when a sharp pain spikes up his side, pressing his palm into it. "Aish..i..i..it hurts.. Jimin-ah.."

"You probably got a stich from your muscles overworking..are you finished now? Do you want to move to lay in bed?"

"I..I just.." Yoongi backs into Jimin, leaning against him. "I just need to..rest..i don't want to move..I'm so dizzy.."

"We can stay here as long as you need. I just want you to be comfortable.." Jimin kisses the top of Yoongi's head, gently running his hand up and down Yoongi's side. "You should've told me you weren't feeling well sooner Hyung.."

Yoongi tries to focus on slowing his breathing, wincing with every inhale. "I know..I'm stupid..but..please.." I don't need a scolding from you..I'm aware I fu*ked up..

"I'm sorry..I know.. I'm just.. I don't want you to feel like you have to be strong for us..you like to handle things on your own and you don't have to.."

Yoongi turns to his side,focusing on matching his breathing with Jimin's listening to his racing heart. I must've really scared him..

"Are you okay yoongi-yah?" Jimin asks, brushing Yoongis hair from his face.

"I..I don't know.. I don't think I have anything left..but I still feel dizzy.." Yoongi speaks in a raspy whisper.

"You should stay the night with me.. you shouldn't drive if you feel this poorly.. do you want me to carry you?"

"If you can.. I think I can stand with your help though.." Yoongi gasps in surprise when he feels Jimin start picking him up lifting him off the floor. "Jimin slow, slowly.." he wraps his arms around Jimin's neck, feeling his stomach churn. "Mm..."

"Sorry, sorry..I'll move slow. It's okay.. I got you.." Jimin moves slowly, tensing when he realized he didn't have the arm strength he thought he had, feeling Yoongi slipping. "Almost there..just..hold on tightly okay..?"

"Okay.." Yoongi's voice comes out small, tightening his grip around Jimins neck, heart skipping a beat when he feels himself dangle while Jimin adjusts him. "Jimin-ah.."

"Almost there.. we're in the room, we just need to get to the bed.. I'm sorry.. here we go.. safe on the bed..I'll get you a pair of my pajamas. You're covered in sweat." Jimin slowly places yoongi on the bed. "Do you think you can drink a bit?"

"I think I'll throw up again..i still feel bad.." Yoongi curls up, pulling his knees to his chest. "I want heat.."

"Oh right, I'm sorry hyung.." Jimin gets a heating pad, putting it aside trying to gently uncurl Yoongi. I have to cool him down, but if hes in too much pain he won't be cooperative.. "Let's get you changed first.. at least your shirt okay?"

Yoongi doesn't fight against Jimin, but he doesn't help either, not making any movement. Jimin just barely gets him to sit up long enough to get his shirt off, getting the top on him, helping him back down to button the top two before Yoongi curls up again. "Cold.."

"Alright hyung.. here you are.." jimin gently places the heating pad against Yoongis side, cuddling up to his ailing hyung. "Is that any better?"

Yoongi nods, pressing against Jimin. "You're warm.." He murmurs.

"If you say so hyungie..rest well.. I'll be right here if you need anything.." jimin gently kisses Yoongi's temple, hearing his breathing slow as he starts to fall asleep.

Jimin waits until Yoongi grows heavy against him before removing the heat from Yoongi's side. "Now to take care of your fever.." he whispers, yawning. "Then I'll sleep too.."

[foxxyrola]

Step 0: Learning to Learn

The biggest challenge in my self improvement journey begins with a question: "How in the nine hells am I supposed to sit my ass down and learn anything? My body just keeps pacing around, looking for yet another distraction. iwi"

Don't get me wrong, I desperately want to apply myself, just struggle in the initiation. And the follow through. I would take a few lessons in learning Godot for game making, then move on to something else, new and shiny. I'd learn all the Hiragana, but then not touch the Japanese language for weeks. All ambition, no action, or something like that.

Being fed up with this, I do get moments where honestly I sometimes just have to, well... Do things! Anything. I'm desperate for the dopamine hit of accomplishing something non vidya gayme related. I have to plant my ass in a chair (even if it takes an hour of pacing before I can even settle down), and give myself something to focus on as if it's life or death. I'd journal when I can. Watch some informative videos without absorbing much of it. Get stuck passively on self help YouTube and all that.

Well... It seems I got something out of it. Lately been looking into Cybersecurity (just a surface dive, like most of my dives are) and in addition to learning a little about certifications and stuff, I discovered that Coursera is a good place to find some lessons (for free too mind you, as long as you don't need their certificates or whatevs) not just for coding, but for many other things.

This is one of these (free) courses that I found: https://www.coursera.org/learn/learning-how-to-learn

Yup, learning how to learn. Seems cheesy. Almost blew it off and didn't take it. But hey, night shifts give me a bit of free time each night, so chooms, I jumped in about a week ago and without a doubt, I certainly do not regret it.

So far in the first week of the course I watched all the necessary videos, and passed the simple quizzes for week 1. The course establishes two modes of thinking every human uses: focused and diffuse. Focused being when you think deeply on something you know how to solve already, following established prestructured neural pathways. Diffuse on the other hand being that abstract association you get when you passively sift through your brain, in sleep and relaxing, and when you're not actively looking for a concrete solution but rather let your mind wander and put things together.

Now, I've heard about routine and pomodoro techniques and taking breaks to space out learning, but it seems that with this course, something clicked. Applying the things I learned by taking personal summary notes afterwards and both actively and passively thinking about what I've just absorbed, I suddenly felt fulfilled.

I started a self care routine (nothing super much yet, just 2 hours of unwinding and exercise and meditating before bed among other things) by setting up a schedule in an app I found called RoutineFlow. Yeah, I'm not getting it consistently yet, but every day I try to at least take a step to do what I gotta do, that little push that'll help me work through stuff. I just want to get myself to do the basics so that I can grow from there.

Then I encountered my first obstacle: taking notes. The Learning to Learn course has optional materials: readings, interviews, all that fun scop. I go through fairly passively til I encounter one material. A short paper with notes on note taking from Harvard. Some 30 pages. I know I need this, I know I need to sit down and do this as it'll help.

But I couldn't do it. One day, then another day, then the weekend passes, and now I'm back at work again on Monday. My legs are restless, can't seem to sit down and do things.

So I start writing this blog. Immediately afterwards... I still can't do it.

I walk around, pace, try and sit down... Another 30 minutes passes before I open things up and begin taking notes. I literally force myself to sit, set a 25 minute pomodoro... Ok now just gotta focus in this time. Come on I can do it...!

Oh hey I'm doing it! I'm actually doing it! I start learning the material, taking some Cornell Notes on it(a good way to review notes and test yourself die to its structure) as soon as the time'l ran up, I take a break. Wow! That actually wasn't so hard. The hardest part was just sitting down and telling myself that this is what I wanna learn.

So over my free time at work over a few 25 min sessions, I learnt the importance of taking notes in my own words, reviewing them often but not cramming all at once, and testing myself on my knowledge.

It was just that first step. But hey, the more I do this, the easier it gets! Consistency, that's the name of the game. I may not have learned any new coding skills or any new words or anything, but the experience has been a most important one.

Anyways, as I finish this up, it is now time for my morning self care routine. Feeling accomplished, I think things can only get easier if I keep setting aside the time and rewarding myself consistently.

Just gotta put my ass in the chair.

[cheeriecherrymain]

What about Viktor with a reader who seems like a total airhead/bimbo but is actually incredibly intelligent and witty?

Please pardon any mistakes, I'm typing this on my phone lol

-So you guys probably meet in one of your classes, when you're both still pretty young.

-He's initially drawn to you because of your...interesting...questions during class discussions.

-He admittedly jumps to conclusions.

-Your questions aren't necessarily stupid, but they lack common sense. Anyone in the course should have been able to answer your problems without issue, yet there you were. Asking anyways.

-He assumes you're not paying attention during the lessons...but then how do you do so well on exams? Were you cheating off someone? Paying someone to write your essays for you?

-It boggles his mind, how you could barely know what you're talking about in class, but then turn around and have the second highest marks in the class.

-It all comes to a head when the midterm results are posted outside the classroom. Viktor expects his name to be in the top spot, as it usually is, but when he looks...

- "There must be a mistake," he mutters, growing agitated. No one pays him any mind though, checking their own marks and wandering off to find their seats.

-Instead of following suit, he walks up to the Professor's desk.

- "I think there is an error in the grades that have been assigned," he says quietly, trying not to make a scene.

- "No worries, my dear boy. I assure you that I have triple checked my work - something you might want to try, in the future."

-A couple people snicker to themselves, and Viktor's impatience rises.

- "How could there possibly not be a mistake?" he hisses. "According to the marks posted, Y/N had the highest grade - that's just not possible!"

-Out of the corner of his eye, he notices you perk up at the mention of your name. Now, with you listening in, his confidence in the matter plummets.

-The professor asks him why it wouldn't be possible for you to have a good grade.

-"Because she's an idiot!" he says, much louder than intended - loud enough for most of the class to hear, yourself included.

-He doesn't miss the way that your shoulders fall slightly, nor the way your demeanor grows somber and your gaze casts downward.

-He's immediately hit with a wave of guilt, which only worsens when the professor send him to his seat and he gets a better look at you as he passes.

-You're silent in class for the following week. You don't ask your usual absurd questions, and you don't participate in group discussions - you don't say anything, actually.

-Even when you're paired up for your final projects, and find yourselves in a group, you're eerily quiet.

-It's awkward, in his opinion, but he's not going to try andbforce you to say anything. Instead he draws up a plan for what you should create, explaining it to you in extreme detail as he goes.

-You continue in silence as the semester progresses, watching Viktor work diligently while he goes over ever aspect of his creation.

-He had delegated the task of writing down test results to you, so you'd still be able to get marks for participating. Test results which had been repeating, as of late.

-"I just do not understand where I'm going wrong," he sighs one afternoon. "The barrel is straight, the nose is aerodynamic, the power source is adequate! I only have four days to figure out what's going on - we'll get a failing grade, otherwise."

-At first, you say nothing, keeping your gaze firmly locked on the paper attached to your clipboard.

-But then, all at once, fury curls into your features, and you scowl at him.

"There's too much pressure being released from the fuel tank," you say, finally. "Which you would have known, if you weren't so obsessed with making the damn thing look nice."

-"It's efficient," he tries to say, but you cut him off.

-"It's stupid to work on the aesthetics before the function! The wiring is also faulty, and it's either going to cause a fire, or screw up your design when we have our presentation."

-The two of you stare at each other for several moments, the air between you tense enough to feel.

-"How can you be so certain?" he grumbles.

-"Because despite your opinion of me, I'm far from stupid, Viktor. I've earned my grades, even if you think I didn't. God forbid someone be better than you at something."

-"You are not better than me," he argues. "You, and people like you, look down on me - you always have! You're pretentious and opinionated-"

-"The only one who is pretentious and opinionated is you!" you hiss back, poking him hard on the chest. "I looked up to you! And I can't believe I wasted so much time thinking so highly of you. You're an ass!"

-The two of you fall into silence for a couple of beats, before you continue, "and for the record, I ask stupid questions because the girl who sits beside me is mute - she writes them down, and I read them. And she's pretty damn smart, too "

-After that, you're quick to pack up your things and leave, whisking past Viktor in a flurry of frustration and hurt.

-His guilt returns to him. Had he really been so presumptuous? True, in the past, you'd never done anything to hurt him - never spoken out against him, or made any accusations.

-But unlike his earlier guilt, the feeling doesn't dissipate this time. He was wrong about you, and he knows it. He just needs to find a way to make it up to you.

[urfavoritedcwhore]

the Russian boy//part one

a fanfic about the goldfinch

summary: a new girl named lucy gardener has just moved to las vegas, nevada. she meets two boys her first day and takes an interest on the black-haired Russian boy named boris.

this is a series i’m going to be working on, and yes, there will eventually be some juicy smut.

warnings: swearing, marijuana usage, and some brief mention of alcohol usage.

not proof read!!

part one: the first day

"FUCK" , i yell when i awake to see my alarm clock isn't plugged in. i must have forgotten to plug it in last night when i was setting up my room. im gonna be late for my first day of school. great. i rush to the millions of moving boxes in my room trying to remember which ones have my clothes in them, finally i mange to find a box with a folded up Tshirt and decide to wear that and the leggings i slept in. i throw on the Tshirt and run into the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair. "first day of my new school and im going to show up a total mess. amazing.", i think to myself while i spit out the tooth paste in my mouth and see the knots all over my head. i grab my brush and hurry back into my room to put my shoes on and get my book bag together. "MOM!!", i yell while brushing my hair and putting my folders in my bag. no response. great she's probably passed out downstairs drunk, or hasn't come home from last night yet. i don't blame her though, if i had found out my husband was cheating on me and lost all my money in the divorce i would be drinking away my feelings too. i just hate that it caused us to move here. the fucking middle of nowhere in las Vegas. why couldn't we have moved to someplace cool like New York? or just someplace where the sun isn't beating down on me like it wants to fry me and eat me for lunch. whatever, no point in being mad right now, i need to grab my keys and get to school. i go downstairs to see my mom passed out on the couch with a bottle of tito's and lifetime blaring on the tv. no time to worry about that now. i find my keys laying on the kitchen counter and rush out the door. i hop in my truck (well, my mom and me's truck) and head on my way to school. joining a new school three months into the school year as a junior, who knows nobody in this awful town shouldn't be hard, right? i look up on google maps where it is and learn it's only 20 minutes away from my house, not too far of a drive. gosh, its already 11:30am, i'm so fucked. i pull into the school parking lot and quickly run into the double doors at the front of the building. i spot the front office on my right and make my way in there, the small lady behind the desk looks up from her computer at me. "name?", she says like she's dealt with more late passes then she wanted to this morning. "Lucy Gardener, I'm a new student here and-", she cuts me off, "yes, miss gardener, you're a junior correct? here's your schedule and here's your late pass.". she pulls out a small green peice of paper from here desk drawer and writes, my name, the date, the time, and her signature on it before handing it to me. awesome, i'm gonna have to show up in the middle of class and stop the lesson to give this to my teacher. she reaches into the printer and gives me a list with my name on the top and a bunch of classes with times next to them. "right now you should be in....3rd period, english.", the lady said pausing to squint at her computer, "room 224. down the main hall and to your left.". "thanks.", i say stuffing my schedule in my bag and walking out of the office. i follow her directions and head down the main hall and to the left, until i see room 224. fuck, ok ok, just go in there, give the slip to your teacher, and pray he doesn't make me introduce myself to the class. i open the class door and immediately all heads turn to me. i can feel my cheeks burning red as i walk to the man in his mid 40s standing in front of the whiteboard. "sorry." i say handing him the slip and turning away to find a seat towards the back of the class room, just as i thought you may get away with say nothing else, he calls you back up front. "Lucy? you're our new student right? come up here and tell us a little about yourself please.", he says with a huge smile on his face. you've gotta be fucking kidding. i turn back to him and walk back up front. "hi i'm lucy, um i just moved here from New Orleans.", i hear slight laughter coming from two boys in the back of the classroom.

"can i go sit now?", i say turning towards the teacher. "well it's great to have you here lucy, i look forward to getting to know you, i think there may be a seat next to theo. theo, raise your hand so lucy knows where to go.". i see a tall boy with shaggy blonde hair raise his hand and realize it was one of the boys who were giggling. i walk towards the desk that the teacher was referring to, and see that it’s actually right in between the two boys that were giggling. how wonderful, this should be soooo fun. i sit down and immediately hear the blonde boy with glasses on my right giggling. damn, do i really look that bad today. the one with black hair is just staring so intensely at me, i feel his eyes burning holes in my head. i guess i came just at the right time though, cause about two minutes after i sit down i hear the bell ring. "anddd that's lunch.", i hear the teacher say as i stand up and grab my bag. i let out a sigh of relief, at least i can just go sit in the bathroom and look at my phone for the lunch period. i'm walking to the door when someone behind me calls out, "lucy!". i turn around to see the blonde boy with his mouth slightly open and the boy with black hair standing behind him smirking. "i-it's lucy right?" he says stuttering over his words. "yea. you're theo, right?", i say hoping that i heard the teacher correctly and didn't just call him the wrong name. "ding ding ding! and this," he pulls the boy with black hair in front of him like he's showing me a puppy or something, "is boris. he, well we, were wondering if maybe you wanted to hang with us during lunch? you know, since you're new.", theo says in a almost shy manner. do i want to have lunch with them? is it a trick? weren't they literally just laughing at me? if they didn't look so raggedy i would've guessed that they were two popular boys messing with me. the dark haired one, sorry, "boris", speaks up. "we have weed." , he said in a whispering tone.

i'm not sure because his voice was so low, but i think he may be Australian? that doesn't matter, they had weed, i need something to calm my first day anxieties. "i'm down, should've led with the weed." i say looking at both of them as theo looked at boris with a smile. boris walked in front of me, "follow me.". boris and theo led me out the school doors, into the parking lot, and to a beat down 1985 volvo. this looks sketchy i'm not gonna lie. the car is rusted, missing a headlight, and theo has to crawl through the driver side door to get to the passenger seat. let's just hope and pray they don't kill me and dump my body in the nevada desert somewhere. boris opens the back seat door for me and i crawl in, as soon as i'm in the car i know they're not lying about the weed. the smell is so strong that i imagine they smoke in this car everyday and don't know what air freshener is. boris gets in the drivers seat, shuts the door, and immediately opens the glove box. "shit bor, did you not roll another one this morning? it's gonna take me at least 20 minutes to get this shit done.", theo said holding a small baggie of weed, and a pack of joint papers. these kids don't even know how to roll a joint. i snicker, "let me see it.", i say holding out my hand. theo and boris looked at eachother suspiciously. "oh come on, let me see it i can get her done in 5-10 minutes tops.", i start making a "gimme" motion with my hand. theo hands the bag and papers over to me. it doesn't even take me ten minutes and im done. "here", i say, passing the joint to boris. they inspect it carefully until boris looks back at me and smiles, "nice job new girl.". i do a small bow, "thank you thank you very much, now light that shit.", i say looking at the lighter in theo's hand. theo hands the lighter over to boris, who starts to touch the flame to the tip of the joint and takes a long hit. he lets the smoke out, coughing as he does so. boris takes another hit then looks at me. he gives the joint to me with a grin, "new girl gets next hit, eh?", he says glancing over to theo. "that's fine with me man.", says theo, who's too focused on trying to get the radio to work.

boris hands the joint over to me. please please please don't let me get too high and embarrass myself God. i mean look, im an avid smoker, but after taking a break from weed for like 6 days because of all the moving shit i had to do, i’m definitely gonna get really fried. i take a long drag of the joint and hold the smoke it for about 7 seconds before exhaling with a sigh. "fuck that's nice.", i say passing the joint to theo and leaning back into the seat. "so new girl, where do you live?", boris says with a thick accent. "i don't really know the name of the street, i just got here last night. it's like desert something.", i say trying to remember what the street is called . boris raises his eyebrows as he grabs the joint theo's passing to him, "desert end drive?", he says before taking a long hit of the joint. "yea actually, that's where i am.". the two boys exchange looks. "no way, that's where we live." , says theo almost giddy with excitement. ok this is good. at least i have two people that smoke in my neighborhood. "do you live more towards the front of the neighborhood or the back?", theo says. boris passes me the joint and i take two quicks hits while they stare at me with anticipation. "way in the back, it takes like 3 minutes of me driving just to get out of the neighborhood.", i say shifting my eyes between the two of them. theo looks at boris as i hand him the joint. "i bet you're right by bor then.", he says smiling a child like smile. "oh shit that's nice.", i say trying to not look excited. i mean boris is cute. i don't really know him at all. and that accent, maybe it's just the weed talking, but that accent is so fucking sexy. "what's your accent?", i blurt out, not so shy anymore from the high i'm feeling. boris smirks at me, "i mean i've lived in a lot of places so i have little accent from everywhere, but the one you probably hear the most, is russian or ukraine maybe?", he says, "my english isn't perfect, potter says i miss words sometimes, but i do pretty well, eh?", he says taking the joint from theo. i let out a laugh, "dude you're so right, he does kinda look like harry potter!", which makes both me and boris burst out into laughter.

"hardy har har, soooo funny.", says theo trying his best to hold back a smile. we sit, passing around the joint and just talking and getting to know each other for about the next 15 minutes until all that's left of it is the filter. "i don't wanna go back in.", i say as the laughter dies down in the car from a stupid thing theo said. "well you're in luck, me and bor usually skip forth period anyways.", theo says turning his head to look at me and smile. "yes! come with new girl, will be fun. i have vodka at house.",  boris says with excited eyes. "your parents won't mind?", i say, "nah, only live with my dad and he'll be gone for next few days.", says boris as he puts the bag of weed and papers back in his glove box. "alright, im down. but fuck, i'm way too stoned to drive right now, i haven't smoked for like a week cause of the move.", i say, remembering just how high i am. "give me your keys, im not too fucked.", says boris holding out his hand, "potter can drive my car, he does all the time.". i look at boris for a second, before pulling out my keys and placing them in his hand. trust me if i thought this boy was too faded to drive, i would not let him in my truck. but since i'm pretty sure he does this everyday multiple times a day i'm fine with it. especially since, i myself drive while im stoned all the time. well when im not in the middle of an involuntary week long T break i mean. boris hops out of the car and opens my door, extending his hand to me, as theo crawls into the drivers seat. i take boris's hand and hop out of the car. i say a quick thank you and let go of his hand before leading him to my truck. when we get to my car he follows me to the passenger side and opens the door for me. "such a gentleman." , i joke as i put a hand on my heart and hop in the car. "always a gentleman for a pretty lady.", he says back shooting me a quick wink then chuckling. ok he could so get it. i mean he called me pretty, he definitely wants it. no lucy...you two are joking around. he's being polite. don't think anything of it. boris walks to the other side of the car door and hops in the drivers seat, putting the keys in ignition. "let's go get wasted new girl.", he says to me with a smile as he puts the car in drive, and pulls out of the school parking lot. i have a feeling this is going to be fun..

part 2 will be out soon. let me know if yall fw this

[snezhnoel]

I'm no deity, please understand.

teyvat was monochrome; colorless; an uninteresting world with no spice. the world building was detailed yet not at the same time. the mountains are tall as ever, and the oceans and sunset blend black and white gorgeously as if they work partners for it. all these magnificent views and the archons wondered, what is truly missing?

it's just an ordinary day. well, no actually, happy birthday for those that day. your mother birthed you as a mere human, and took care of you as just another mortal. your academic grades are pretty good, but not enough to catch another one's attention. summary is, you are just like others.

you experienced gifted kid's burnout by the time your mother left, now desperately thirsting over compliments and praises, it's even worse than ever. but once again, you're just like others, so you've grown up with nothing in particular that sharpens you over anyone else. how did you get on this point?

it's three am. you sat on your bed and gaze out the window, you're lucky enough to have a magnificent view, you always reminded yourself. frustration hits you for the second time in the same hour, it's not your fault that the school project is too hard to your liking.

the thing is, it's to invent something, anything, no rules or requirements whatsoever, and that's what made it so difficult. you are lost without guidance, from your mother and the education, you're not that of a creative type afterall.

another forty five minutes rolled in like wind, the thought of the night transitioning into morning is making you sick. just, how fast time truly flies?

time truly flies? time truly flies.. oh, that's it! you grinned a genuine expression of relief, you've finally got an idea for the project! another step to do, you need to write an essay about the theory, since proving it physically is rather.. difficult.

goddamn, your seatmate didn't note you that it's this difficult?! you swore quietly, gritting your teeth as a huff of another frustration rushes over. your eyes wondered on your room to find source of relaxation, cringing as you just realized how messy your room is, though oddly enough you know just where a thing is placed. accidentally, you held your gaze to the clock as it replied by showing the time; 4:13 am.

silent fucker, you insulted it. you spent another seven minutes thinking if your essay would succeed. your final decision is to rip the papers and clean up after your tools, before settling in to bed.

you woke up with a sore body. you just dreamed of chasing the distant dream which you forget by now, though you remember a piece where a figure looks too similar with you, though wearing the finest clothes and a crown— halo, placed upon their head. it's a weird dream that you had to admit, but you knew better than to stay in bed and wait until you're late.

you did your usual routine; prepare to bath, shower and brush your teeth, almost slipping the slippery floor once you get out, do your clothes and brush your hair in a way you favor, then go downstairs to treat yourself a cereal.

by the time you're ready to go, you forgot how you ripped apart your essay's papers. goddamn, you murmured to yourself. though worried, your ignorant self dominated other emotions, resulting an I don't care declaration to yourself, then walk alone to your school

it's monochrome, stays the same as ever. you've been familiar with this world for as long as you remember, and also until you're skilled enough to know which monochromatic shade resembles the seven archons, despite how nerdy it sounds.

it's as if you've teleported right to your class. time passes until the first lesson, science, something you're not a big fan of. it's either the class itself or the teacher, you're unsure with yourself. the teacher continued on whatever today's topics are, but your mind is dozed off to the essay due today, specifically after this science class.

you didn't pay any attention, hence why you looked like a dear about to get hit when everyone's scattered to make whatever liquid they wanted. not wanting a judgemental gaze from the teacher, you hurriedly takes an empty table— which is unfortunately on the front row, but you couldn't care enough.

you started on mixing whatever is on the table, ignorance taking over once again, whispering as if gaslighting you into forgetting the possible side effects. it worked. a small exploison from yours occured. flabbergasted and on instinct, you used your vision to protect yourself upon it. the contact made a universal change in teyvat unbeknownst to you.

silence filled the room, your classmates looking just as flabbergasted as the teacher. you peered over to your desk, expecting ruined materials but no, it's.. a..?

you're not sure what it's called. it's not monochromatic; it's not a shade of black, gray nor white. it's vibrant, brilliant, determined and brave..!

wh- did you just describe something that you don't even know exist? either way, the sounds of clapping echoed throughout the room, both from your classmates and the teacher, and some occasional yells of woohoo following.

the teacher approached you, asking if you know what it is, and if not, what would you call it?

you froze in place. you don't know what it is but, what would you call it? out of panic, you stumbled upon your words, muttering a series of nonsense.

the teacher raised an eyebrow, confused on your behavior. she then caught on a word that got her particular attention. a color, she repeated your words. you just sent another eyebrow raise at her, humming a confused tone.

the teacher congratulated you and another round of claps followed after. time, you swore, is like an illusion. direct government officials under the archon's orders arrived to school to keep safe the color. the name of the substance left an unfamiliar mark on your tongue. it sounds weird, you chuckled to yourself. later on, they began in questioning you about your creation, is what they called it, which you then answered with everything that truly happened.

they took you in, labeled you as a Genius Savior for saving teyvat, they quoted, though you're still left confused by whatever has happened. you met your nation's archons, hell, those government officials even said that you would meet the remaining archons in the near future! what the hell?! you, a mere human, boring individual, just like others, nothing special of mortal, gets to meet all the archons?!

you are nervous. you sat on your throne, it was a custom one ordered by your nation's archons, saying that's the least they can do as to thank you. the fancy and high quality clothes doesn't feel like it belongs to you, rather more like borrowing it. you felt out of place, since none of the other archons use a similar styled clothing like yours.

the archons formally held a conversation between them, occasionally mentioning your name as if inviting you over. you answered their questions humbly and decline their offer kindly, you don't want to anger an archon afterall.

celestial angels arrived at the building, one holding a shiny crown that you swore felt familiar. the archons had stood up and bowed before your panicked state. you stood up, mainly because the absence of guidance on what to do, and because of formalities. the angels stepped closer to you, smiling on your mortal figure. you are confused as ever, just what is going to happen?

they placed the crown on your head. why? you asked yourself. it was hard on resisting the urge to ask here and there. afternoon turned evening and you've gone bored from the ceremony. later did you know, that your life would change for eternity.

no, it was beyond mortal mind! you're just a mere founder, now whatever they gave you titles..! you're not God of Colors, you're not Teyvat's Savior, why couldn't they understand?!

you are no deity, then you hope them to understand someday.

[m1d-45]

[because you mentioned that what you've been writing has been getting longer; i hope this request doesn't make your next one longer too??]

a short roll of paper, tied with a ribbon. it's placed inside a bag with a warm but lightweight coat. the words on the paper are written big and they all read:

Hi, Razor!

How are you doing? I hope that you and your lupical are okay and safe. You're doing so great with words and talking! I'm so proud of you.

Please keep this coat with you even if your hair is long and lupical are warm to cuddle. Remember that it's okay to take breaks from getting stronger. Eat well and rest well. Stay safe and have fun! Let's hunt and take naps together next time. :D

Warm hugs,

Your Lupical

razor trudged through wolvendom, his arms wrapped tightly around him. his lesson with lisa had led longer than it usually did, and the coming winter made the usually refreshing air frigid.

still, he pushed through. his coat wasn’t made to keep from cold, but normally he was back with his pack by now. normally, he’d be curled up with the rest of the wolves, near the middle since he didn’t have any fur of his own.

they had to be worried. he never stayed out late without warning.

he pushes through a thicker patch of bushes, stumbling into a clearing with a shiver. the canopy is thinner here, and he steps into the open space, hoping some of the lingering light could help sweep away his chill.

it doesn’t. something else, however, does.

as razor looks to the sky, to the shooting stars crossing it, one of them falls. he doesn’t realize it until it brushes the leaves, having assumed the light was from the setting sun, but he now realizes the truth. the sun had set a while ago, but as the star landed in his hands, it was hard not to think of it as a second.

bright. warm. he doesn’t know what the sun feels like, but the bumps on the ball feel like rays, energy buzzing within them. he holds the ball carefully, wondering if he should perhaps take it to andrius, who would certainly know what it meant if a star fell out of the sky.

the star acts before he does, falling apart into crystalline shards. for a moment he’s worried he’d done something wrong, but when he’s left with a sun-warmed coat and a folded sheet of paper, he’s a little less concerned.

razor considers the paper. he should go to his pack, but… what if it’s you? what if it’s something important?

it is from you, but it’s nothing to fret over. you’re simply… worried for him.

he rereads a few sentences, making sure he’s remembering the words right, but… he was correct the first time.

you cared for him. you sent him a coat. you promised him a visit when you finally came to teyvat, inviting him on a hunt with you.

razor put on the coat you had gifted him—it fit well, still warm from the star it was carried in—and thought over your letter as he walked.

if you and he were to nap together… where would be the best space?