#(it’s always a really nice feeling being around them)
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bitchy-craft · 1 day ago
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PICK A CARD: 10 fun facts about your future spouse
Hello and welcome to this new reading! I will tell you 10 fun facts about your partner/future spouse. I hope you all enjoy it!
FREE READING: a subscription to my Patreon before February 7th, no matter the tier, will give you a free question of choice. I updated the overall look of my patreon so feel free to look!
Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel > PATREON Masterlist [NEW]
The extended version (10 more fun facts) of this reading can be found on my Patreon, the link of which is here
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~pick a card~
Pile 1:
1. They would love to draw you as their muse;
2. They enjoy shows that have incredibly dangerous and insane stunts (because why would you want to do that);
3. They can be very catty when it comes to their words if they’re annoyed; giving shade like a high-schooler;
4. They love their alcohol, but it has to be a specific kind;
5. They enjoy beautiful gardens and would love to have one to tend to themselves (but they aren’t good at it at all, you’ll probably be helping in the future);
6. Your future spouse loves thinking back to their high-school times with old friends, re-experiencing all of it;
7. Your future spouse is open to learning from mistakes and growing from past experiences;
8. Your future spouse would love to sleep in the forest with you sometimes; just you two, or your little family if you two have kids, in the forest with some fire and marshmallows on sticks;
9. They think a fun date in the future for the two of you would be picking fruits from trees;
10. They love acting as a joke; they have a whole alter-ego.
Pile 2:
1. Your future spouse enjoys driving cars a lot; they love the feeling it gives them;
2. They have a very small friend group (around 2 friends), but they’re so close they’re basically siblings;
3. Your future spouse has a tendency to let things go their way and just see what happens, even if preparing would’ve been a better idea;
4. Your future spouse will constantly giggle if they’re drunk;
5. They really enjoy cats, and most of guys their future spouse’s have had a cat when they were younger;
6. They find celebrating birthdays difficult and will act a bit ‘against’ it, but secretly they do enjoy it;
7. Your future spouse is good at imagining things (they prefer to imagine fantasy scenario’s);
8. Your future spouse loves being with friends and having a fun drink;
9. They will be causing mayhem to get a reaction out of you simply because they are bored;
10. They have a decent amount of influence on people; but they only really use it to fuck around and have fun.
Pile 3:
1. Your future spouse can enjoy a good book every once in a while;
2. They enjoy stargazing through windows something (they don’t prefer the outside often, given they get cold very quickly and dislike a ton of layers in order to do so);
3. They like circuses;
4. Your future spouse sometimes has nightmares, they’ve had this their whole lives. They have more then usual, and enough to be an issue in their lives;
5. Even though your future spouse will claim they’re not superstitious at all, they will always make a wish at a falling star;
6. Your future spouse loves to think about moral problems;
7. They would enjoy it to have a fish as a pet;
8. They’d like to sit in a dark forest alone and not do anything; they see the situation as something very peaceful and nice;
9. Your future spouse is very detail-oriented;
10. Your future spouse is often at the back near a wall at bigger gatherings, preferring to see everything instead of standing in the middle of it all.
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steddieas-shegoes · 1 day ago
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i don’t know why i can’t take my eyes off of you
for @steddielovemonth day one using You and Me by Lifehouse
rated t | 1186 words | no cw | tags: future fic, second chances, mutual pining, idiots in love, songwriter Eddie, teacher Steve
🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒
Steve’s walking down the frozen section of Melvald’s when time stops.
Not literally. The watch on his wrist is still ticking. The clock on the wall at the front of the store is still moving. People around him are still grabbing their groceries.
But Eddie Munson is standing in front of the ice cream section like he belongs there.
Eddie left Hawkins five years ago.
He kissed Steve on the lips, then the forehead, and left.
Steve’s thought about it, about him, every day since.
Eddie hasn’t noticed him yet. Maybe Steve should leave before he does. Last he’d heard, Eddie was working at a recording studio as a songwriter, halfway making his dreams come true.
He’s happy, or at least that’s what all the kids have said when he’s brought up. They don’t know about the kiss, at least Steve doesn’t think they do. He’s never told them.
It’s busy enough in the store that Steve’s pretty sure he can sneak away before Eddie sees him. He starts to back away, but immediately bumps into an old woman.
“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He’s asking, and she’s brushing him off and saying she’s fine. He feels terrible.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice is like music, always has been a melody made specifically for Steve.
“Eddie,” Steve says as the old woman walks away. “Hey.”
Steve forgets he’s in public as the world around him fades and all he sees, smells, wants, is Eddie.
“I didn’t know you were still in Hawkins,” Eddie says quietly, leaning forward on his toes. He’s got a new battle vest, though it looks well-worn. Steve wonders if he knows that his old vest is hanging in his closet, if he knows that Steve pulls it out every once in a while so he can put it on and feel a little less alone.
“Yeah. Never left.” It sounds worse than it is. Steve always said he’d leave when all the kids left, but once they did, he didn’t know where to go. It’s not like he could follow them around, couch-surfing across the country a month or two at a time, burdening them with his self-imposed loneliness.
“You look good,” Eddie says, changing the subject.
Leaving Hawkins was a touchy subject for Steve the last time he’d seen Eddie. It still is. Eddie must sense that.
“So do you,” Steve breathes out. He does. He looks healthy and happy, something Hawkins had completely drained from him before. “What are you doing back?”
“Just visiting Wayne. Usually he comes to see me, but he insisted he didn’t wanna deal with the ‘big city’ this time. And I’m the best nephew, so I said ‘sure, old man, I’ll go back to the town that hates my guts!’ And here I am trying to find my favorite ice cream at the store. They don’t have it,” Eddie shrugs. He rambles when he’s nervous, still. “He hasn’t mentioned seeing you around or anything, though.”
“Yeah, I guess we don’t cross paths much,” Steve laughs awkwardly. He can’t remember the last time he saw Wayne. Must’ve been around Christmas, when Steve was helping Joyce with her decorations while Hopper worked overtime and Wayne stopped by to drop off some lights. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s good. Stubborn as hell. Won’t retire even though he could,” Eddie shakes his head. “Think he’s scared of being bored.”
“Or lonely.”
The words escape Steve before he can hold them back.
Eddie’s face softens, but it’s not full of pity. Everyone always gives Steve this look, like they know he’s putting on a brave face. Not Eddie.
“Wayne’s always been content alone. He’s got friends, and he calls me when he has something new to argue about,” Eddie leans in closer. “I don’t really worry about Wayne. Other people, sure.”
“Like who?” Steve swallows.
“You settle down yet?” Eddie asks in response.
Steve’s so shocked by the question, he doesn’t answer.
“I figured the kids were just being nice by not telling me if you did, but you’re not wearing a ring and you’re grocery shopping alone, so…” Eddie rambles again. Steve feels his heart flutter in his chest.
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Are you dating someone?”
Steve shakes his head. “Haven’t really found anyone interesting.”
“Interesting? Since when does Steve Harrington want someone interesting?”
Since the most interesting person he knows kissed him and then left. Since everyone else is boring in comparison to you. Since he realized he was dumb to let you go.
“I guess what I thought I wanted is different now. Has been for a while,” Steve shrugs.
It’s strange how easily Steve becomes wrapped up in Eddie’s orbit, how quickly everything else didn’t matter the moment Eddie started talking to him. It’s just the two of them.
“Excuse me,” a man says to their left. Steve jumps back and apologizes for blocking where he needed to be. Eddie’s eyes never leave Steve.
When the man walks away, Steve clears his throat.
“How long are you in town?”
“How long will it take me to convince you to come back with me?”
Steve chokes on his next breath. “What? Come back with you? To…”
“New York or Chicago. I’m getting a promotion and they’ll let me pick where I wanna go. I’ve been leaning towards Chicago because more of the music I enjoy is making a mark there,” Eddie explains. “And there’s plenty of options for you there, too. Dustin said you just finished your teaching degree.”
“Dustin talks about me?”
“Only when unprovoked,” Eddie grins. “Have you been waiting for me?”
It’s blunt, but Eddie always has been. Steve can hide a lot of emotions from people; It’s been a survival tactic for most of his life.
He’s never been able to hide shit from Eddie.
“Not on purpose.”
Eddie looks at his basket of items. He was really only here for a few things, but he saw his favorite cookies were on sale and he couldn’t resist stocking up. He looks between the basket and Eddie’s eyes.
“You wanna come to mine for dinner?”
“Is dinner cookies?” Eddie laughs, poking at the package closest to the top.
“That’s dessert,” Steve laughs, too. He finds it easy. He never thought it could be this easy after the time that’s passed, the distance they had between them.
“First dessert.”
“What are we, hobbits?” Steve asks.
Eddie’s jaw drops open. “Steve, please. Not in public.”
“What?”
“I didn’t know you read it!” Eddie groans, but he’s smiling, so Steve’s not actually worried.
“I’ve read a lot of things! I’ve been waiting for you, remember?”
An announcement starts in the store— someone’s car is blocking a delivery truck entrance— and they both take a step away from each other. They were much closer than they should be in the grocery store.
This is still Hawkins, and people already don’t like Eddie. Looking cozier than two dudes normally would might be dangerous for both of them.
“So. Dinner?” Steve asks again. It’s easier to remember there are other people around with some distance between them.
“Sure. Dinner.”
Time starts again.
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godmadeaterribleerror · 1 day ago
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No More
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Main Masterlist
Read on A03!
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, so much angst, hurt/comfort, small fluff at the end, pre-established relationship, past abusive/toxic relationship, soft Dean
Summary/Warnings: Some scars don't really fade. They just fester and rot, remaining unattended in your body because you can't really remember how to heal them.
And Dean can't fix this for you. But he can give you somewhere safe to fix yourself.
Author's Note: Request from an anon! This one's heavy guys. If you think that past abusive relationships might be a no go for you, make the right choice for yourself <3. If not, enjoy (?) the story.
Word Count: 4k
It had been a good hunt. An objectively good hunt. Done in two days, no bodies to burn or bury, an alright bar in the town, and Sam managing to get his own room because he’s sick of you trying to bang Dean in front of him.
“Hey, don’t blame my girl for how you’re always sticking your ass in our business-“
“We share a room, Dean!” Sam had said, half-throwing his hands in the air. “Where else am I supposed to stick my ass if not in our communal living space-“
Dean had snorted. “Communal living space? Dude, you sound like such a jackass-“
“Why, because I can use big words like space?”
“I- Watch it, Sammy-“
“I’ll watch it if you stop trying to fuck on my bed!”
They’d kept arguing. You’d remained silent, picking at the wood of the table and wondering if—should you actually attempt to—you could sink into Dean’s chest and just stay there for a while. It would be warm and solid, and probably not all that safe—that man got himself stabbed and shot a lot—but safer than being in you. Then your traitorous and useless body, made only to be snapped in half. It must have something written on it or in it, emit some kind of blacklight or stench that said weak. Dumb, weak little bitch, lucky to have this because you don’t deserve it. Couldn’t deserve it.
Better, you could turn to stone, right here in the booth. If you could do that, you’d never get another bruise on your throat or hear venomous words spat in your ear. Sam and Dean could leave you behind and never have to feel any guilt. Dean could stop having to pretend he likes you as more than a body, and pull away without beating himself up about abandoning you like a used and worn couch. 
Moth-eaten and stained, only still in the house because it feels wrong to throw it out. Because you have a little sentimentality for the couch when it was nice, before it had been beaten and abused and reduced to just a lumpen sack of feathers and cloth.
You don’t think that comparison is fair to the couch. 
At least the couch was once useful.
Because it had been a good hunt.
You were the problem.
You’d slipped and wavered and fallen. But the whole place had smelled like lavender soap, and it had carried you back to where that same smell had suffocated you. He had loved that smell, and said it made you seem prettier and softer than you were. 
This whole case had reeked of him. And you’d told yourself you’d be fine. That it was in the past, and he wasn’t supposed to have that kind of control over you anymore. That the world seems gray in that vamp nest, but it was winter, so that was to be expected. And when you’d been knocked flat on your back, you’d seen a crack in the ceiling—identical to the one that had been over his bed—but had been a coincidence. Ceilings cracked, and there were only so many patterns in the world.
And when a Vamp had wrapped its hand around your throat, that was just something that happened to hunters. You all got hurt and beaten and had close calls. That was the job. You’d faced worse than this. You’d faced blood coating your fingers and splattered on your face, guts pooling at your feet and long moments where you’d been sure no one would come and save you.
Dean had always saved you. Even before you’d started doing more—and then more and more and more, until it seemed pretty obvious you were dating and it was more exhausting to fight it than accept it—Dean had always been saving you. He’d had to do it today, yanking the Mare off your chest and cradling your head against his chest until you were breathing easily. 
Yet again, you’d been the problem. The hunt had been easy and simple, and you’d still fucked it because you sucked. You were dead-weight. You couldn’t stop feeling the hand around your throat—imprinted like a tattoo that made your words small and body smaller—and you couldn’t stop the weighed down feeling of hopelessness. Your brain stuck on a scratching loop around the Vamp’s hiss of dumb, annoying, weak little bitch, until you couldn’t manage to smile at anything at all.
It just made you feel worse, because Dean might be worried you don’t think he’s being funny. That whenever he makes truly horrible joke and you don’t giggle like a lovesick schoolgirl, it’s because he’s gone wrong.
He’s done nothing. You really hope he just gives up and tosses you aside, because he shouldn’t have to put up with worry about something so valueless. He’d find someone else. Someone better and more deserving. You’re just lucky he ever even looked at you, let alone bothered to try and stay. To try and be the hero that keeps rescuing the princess, even when the princess is just a peasant who can put on a show.
You’d tricked him into thinking you’re better than you are. Lied to him until you’d trapped him, and now he had to stay with you, because he’s a good man and you’re simply the fucking worst thing in the world to darken his path, and he’ll leave if he really saw you-
That’s not fair to Dean. He is a good man. Better than he was, by miles and stretches and eons, but that really just made it hurt more. Because Dean’s not him, but you’re still you. The same you who was weak, and stupid, and undeserving. That doesn’t change. It only grows now that you have someone you really don’t deserve. Someone who glows in the low light of the night, laughs in a way that fills the bar with life, and always touches you like he’d like to keep you.
You aren’t something that should be kept. But he’s doing it anyway.
And there’s some bile in your throat at the thought. And that’s just another way in which this—in which you—are horrible.
But the worst part was that things like this happened all the time, and you still weren’t strong enough to build an immunity. To just move on, like a big girl. To actually teach yourself that he was in the past, and this you—now, in the present, sitting with your smoking hot boyfriend’s arm around your shoulders—didn’t have any right to be afraid anymore.
“Are you feeling okay?” 
You blink at Dean as he guides you out of the bar, Sam walking a few feet ahead and the wind of the night is so cold-
Dean says your name, his brow furrowing in the way it does when he’s worried, and you give him your best, softest, most docile smile.
“Everything’s fine.” You say, and you can almost believe yourself. Your voice is gentle and small and doesn’t sound like you, but it’s the best way to end the questions. You’ll fold over. You’ll bend until you snap. And nobody needs to push you for that to happen. 
But Dean’s still frowning. “Are you sure? ‘Cause if you’re feeling well we can head back to the bunker tonight, and Sam won’t have to get his own room-“
“No, Dean, I’m-“
“Yeah, no, Dean.” Sam turns, shooting his brother a glare. “How would I get home?”
“You’re smart, Sammy, you’d figure it out-“
You tune out the rest of their fake-argument. You’re mostly listening to the wind. It’s loud, and strong, and cold. So cold, biting at your skin and making your joints stiff, but at least you can feel it. It’s not numbing, and it’s indifferent, and Sam and Dean don’t seem half as affected by it as you are, but they’re also not weak-
“C’mon,” Dean says your name, and you realize you’re moving again. That he’s guiding you into the shotgun seat, and a grumpy looking Sam is clambering into the back.
“Wait, why-“
“We’re dropping Sam off, then heading back.” Dean turns the engine on, his voice barely raising to match the rumble, and you’re not sure you heard him right.
“Why- I don’t-“
“I wanna go home.” Dean shrugs, and it’s too casual. “And Sammy’s a big boy, he’ll be fine without Mommy and Daddy watching him.”
A small smile tugs at your lips, built by Sam’s groan from behind you, and you can’t stop the words from slipping out. “I told you to stop calling us that.”
“Yeah, but you also told me that you were-“ Dean cuts himself off, shaking his head slightly and clearing his throat. “That you weren’t into car sex, and that ain’t ever stopped us-“
You cover his mouth with a hand—his shit-eating grin just as blinding in only his eyes—and Sam makes a fake gagging sound.
And you think Dean knows. That he’s realized that you’re just so tired and weak and useless, and he’s trying to work out if it’s worth keeping you around. If you’ll listen to him and do what he asks—and you will, you always will, not because of the threat of being left but because he’s Dean and he couldn’t lead you astray if he tried—or if he needs to leave you on the pavement to scrape yourself back together.
So you don’t fight him, or insist that Sam can have his privacy and sanity without getting another room or you and Dean leaving, because you don’t really want to be touched like that right now. You just drop Sam off at the motel, grab your bags, and slump back into the Impala’s bench as Sam and Dean exchange low words outside.
By the time Dean joins you, you’re half asleep. And you try to stay awake—to entertain him half as much as he entertains you—but he pulls you right into his side, lets your head rest on his shoulder, and Dean doesn’t smell like lavender. He smells like evergreen and apples, he’s warm when your ears are still a little numb from the cold, and when he starts to hum along to the low music, you’re gone. Everything fades, and it’s just the deep sound of Dean’s voice like a lullaby and a big, firm hand on your thigh that isn’t going to leave a bruise.
Maybe you don’t deserve a bruise. 
Maybe you don’t deserve anything. Maybe you’re lucky to be stuck in this bed with stinging marks around your throat, and a voice like nails on your ears sneering that you’re a weak little bitch. If you were stronger you’d fight back, but you’ve been broken in and can’t be put back together. If you were stronger, you’d scream for help, but you’re also so horribly you that you know nobody will ever come and save you.
Who would try to save you? Who could possibly care about something like you enough to bother and patch up you up, to take string to your skin and heart and organs and tie them back together? You’re not strong enough to make anything stick. You’re made of glass and linen, and any attempt to put you back together would be futile, because you’d probably just break further. Someone would have to be patient enough to pull you back together when you spooled apart, and warm enough to fuse and meld you in a way that wouldn’t shatter with one touch.
You don’t think a person like that would be real. And if they are, they wouldn’t want you.
Because they’d be strong, and you really are weak.
If you were strong, you would’ve left. But you’re still here in this freezing cold bed, staring at the crack on the ceiling.
And you don’t think you’ll ever be more than that. Not as another hand wraps around your throat—you don’t remember what you said, but you must have said something—and there’s a heavy weight on your chest and you can’t breathe-
“Breathe.” A deep voice that sounds like it cares says your name, and you listen. “It’s okay, you’re okay, just breathe for me.”
For him. There’s a hand on your head that’s combing through your hair and pressing you into a place that warm and solid and safe. You’re held steady by an arm around your waist, and it fits so well there. You don’t think it could hurt you if it tried.
He’d sounds kind and caring, and he’d said your name like you mattered, so you’ll try to breathe.
And you don’t remember how to do it for yourself yet, so—just for now, until you can teach yourself to do anything for you—you’ll breathe for him.
“There you go, baby,” the voice mutters, and when you make a weak, choked sound his body tenses, but he doesn’t push you away. “I know, but I’ve got you. Swear I’ve got you.”
He says he’s got you. Dean says he’sgot you.
And you believe him.
So you start to cry.
He’d never liked it when you cried. He’d said it was useless, and that the sound was annoying.
Dean just keeps holding you, and muttering soothing words in your ear until the tears stop flowing. He only keeps rubbing a circle on your back until your breathing slows, and you can lean back to meet his gaze.
He’s not angry. Just worried. 
You’re going to start crying again.
“Are,” you sniff, trying to pull yourself back together by force, and look around the dark space. “Are we still in the car?”
“Pulled over earlier.” He mutters, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone with a care you don’t deserve. “You started doing that tossing shit when you’re about to have a nightmare. Wanted to get ahead of it.”
You swallow. You’d made him pull over, and you had enough nightmares that he knew what one looked like, and you were just a burden and problem and he should just shove you out of the Impala and leave you to rot like carrion on the highway-
“Stop doin’ that.” Dean grunts, and you tense.
“I- I’m not-“
“You’re freakin’ out. You’re freakin’ me out.” Dean scans over your face, pulling you close until you’re half on his lap. “If you’re hurt, you know you gotta tell me, sweetheart. I’m not looking to do a zombie bite thing, where we get home and you start bleeding all over the floor. So tell me.” He takes a deep breath, and his exhale is warm over your lips. “Please tell me.”
You can’t tell him. You’re not ready for him to leave yet.
You drop your brow to Dean’s, taking low, slow breaths and shaking your head. “It’s okay-“
“It’s fucking not.” He snaps your name, his grip tightening slightly, and you flinch. “I- shit- did I hurt you-“
“No.” You mumble. “I’m just tired-“
“You’ve been sleeping for five hours. You’ll get another seven once we get goin’ again. But,” Dean narrows his eyes, even as his grip loosens once more. “We’re not getting back on the road until you answer me. What’s wrong.”
“I-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sound. He’s angry. You’d made him angry, and he won’t hurt you but if he did you’d deserve it-
You start crying again, and Dean’s eyes widen. This is it. He’s going to push you out the window and you’ll have to wander through the marshes until the mud just swallows you whole-
Dean pulls you fully into his lap, holding you there carefully and muttering in your ear with a care and reverence you don’t deserve.
“Fuck, baby, I’m sorry, fuck, please don’t cry-“
“No, it’s- I’m-“ You take a long, strangled breath, wrapping your arms around his torso until you’re sure you’re going to suffocate him. “It’s not you, Dean, I- It’s not your problem-“
“Fucking hell it’s not my problem.”
You shake your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Maybe you really could move in there, and nothing would ever hurt you again. “It’s- You don’t have to-“
“I do.” He mutters, guiding your head back to meet his gaze. He brushes the tears from your eyes. You don’t deserve this. “You’re hurtin’.”
It’s not a question, but you nod anyways. Holding a lie too long has never done you a favor before.
“Tell me how to fix it.”
“You- you can’t fix this,” you mumble, staring at the bridge of his nose. You aren’t worthy of looking him in the eyes. “It’s, it’s just me, Dean. I’m just like this.”
He frowns. “Like what?”
“Weak.” You whisper. “I- I risked the hunt, I always risk the hunt, and I’m not strong like you and Sam are, and I just wanna go home-“
“We’re going home, babygirl.” Dean’s voice is soft, and low, and cautious, and you let out another sob that shakes your whole body. “And you’re not weak, you ganked like three vamps-“
“Could’ve done more.”
“There were seven of them. Three is pretty awesome numbers.” He gives you a nervous small smile. “You’re awesome. I don’t know who’s been telling you otherwise, but you are.”
That’s what breaks you. The floodgates don’t open—they’d barely held anything to begin with—but something snaps along your spine, and you can’t stop the horrible, rotten truth from falling out of your mouth. 
“But he was right.” You whisper. “I’m weak, Dean, and I don’t know why you can’t see it.”
“There’s nothing to see, and I- Who’s he?”
You wish that you’d slept better. If you had, your tongue wouldn’t be loosened with pure exhaustion, and you could lie.
But you’re so tired. Unbelievably tired. Mind-numbingly and persistently tired, all the time, and it’s grow so intolerable you just want to be anything else. And if what you are is weak and alone, at least you’ll know that’s where you're supposed to be. 
And you’d never wanted Dean to know. He was never supposed to learn from your own mouth how foul you are. He was supposed to find out himself, and then leave you like everyone always has the right to do.
But you’re telling him that you’re weak and fearful, that you’d never been able to fight tooth and spit and leave. You waited so, so long to leave and even then, it had only been because he’d been gone for a while, and you were so tired, and you needed to be anywhere but there. 
And you stepped out, and never gone back.
There’s not going back now either. It all spills out, from how you met him to the day you left. And Dean’s so quiet. Only watching you as you speak and squeezing his hold on your hips when you trail off or cry.
But he doesn’t kick you out. And when you finished, you’re still in his lap. You can’t read the expression on his face. The highway lights are dim, and there’s nothing obviously hateful or disgusted written over his features, but you might just be too stupid to see it-
“I’m-“ Dean clears his throat, his voice hoarse. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
You blink at him, the tears still blurring your vision. “What.”
“That’s- I didn’t know, I never even fucking guessed- I should’ve guessed-“
“How would you have guessed?” You whisper, risking a drop of your brow back to his. He lets you stay. “I never told you-“
“But I know you. I should’ve seen it, you- I should’ve made you feel like you could tell me, I-“ His face hardens in his second, his grip tightening, but not to suffocated you. To protect you. To wrap his whole body around yours and keep it there safely. “I should fucking kill him. Cut off his arms and stuff them up his ass, get Cas to put the fear of god in him-“
“Dean, no-“
“He doesn’t just get to fucking do that to you and keep walking around-“
“He shouldn’t.” You mumble. “But he did. Men do all the time. And, I- I’m sorry I didn’t tell you-“
“Don’t apologize.” He grunts, dragging his thumb over your cheekbone. “You’ve never done anything wrong, baby, it’s just that son of a bitch, who’s gonna get a knock on his door soon-“
“No knocking on doors,” you wrap your arms around his neck, shaking your head against his brow. “Please, Dean, that’s- that’s not what I want-“
“What do you want?”
His question is immediate, and it crashes into you like a tidal wave. Numbing your whole body and kickstarting it in the same second, because you don’t know. You haven’t really known, haven’t had a direction, in years. You wandered and wandered and just tried to keep on breathing, to keep on your feet,  and never let yourself look back. 
You’d never been good at that last part. You kept on breathing because you didn’t have a choice. You’d kept on your feet because if you faltered, you’d fall over and it would be so painful to get back up. 
But you’d always looked back. On nights like this one, over and over and over until your eyes were sunken and your neck was craned to always make sure nothing was behind you. 
It might be nice to rest. To breathe not because it’s a labor, but because it feels nice to breathe the same air as Dean. 
It would be amazing to keep looking back—it’s a habit, and it will die a slow and withering death until it’s gone, and you never pinpoint the moment you lost it—but to also start looking forward. Looking for that place to rest, that you already seem to have found.
What do you want?
“I want some food.” You whisper, leaning back to scan over Dean’s face. “And a nap. Please.”
Dean gives you a small grin, and nods. “I think we can do that. And after, you’ll give me an address-“
“Please don’t kill him, Dean.” You drop your voice slightly, holding his gaze. “I just want to stay with you, and to never see him again. Please.”
Two more wants. You’re on a roll. 
“Just me?” Dean asks, and you don’t he believes you.
But it really is the truth.
“Just you.” You say, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, and humming when he grins against them.
“Lucky you,” he mutters your name against your lips, squeezing his arms around you “I think I know a dude who can swing that.”
You let out a soft giggle—barely a breath, but there—Dean squeezes his arms again, and you really like how he does that. It’s not because he’s trying to remind you where you belong, it’s because he trying to check that you’re there. Like he’s just as afraid that you’ll flee as you are that he’ll shove you aside, and he’s trying to hold you together with everything he has before you slip away.
“You’re really cheesy,” you say, and he chuckles.
“You like it. We start drivin’ again, you think you’ll be able to get some sleep?”
“Yeah, but food-“
“We’re only a few hours out from home.” Dean shrugs, really making no attempt to move you from his lap. “I’ll order whatever you’re feeling when we get back.”
You pause, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck as you think. “How about pizza?”
“Who’s cheesy now-“
You lean back to give him a mock glower. “Dean Winchester.”
“What did you not like that one-“
“It was horrible-“
“That’s not a no-“ 
You cut him off with a long, soft kiss, and you like it here. Wherever Dean is, you’ll like it there.
“Can we please get pizza?” You mumble, and he nods. It’s such a small, normal movement. 
It makes you feel a little more found.
“We can get anything you want, princess.”
End Note: Oof that was a sad one. Sorry squad.
If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3
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@and-i-wish
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omgfangirlland · 1 day ago
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The Shadows That Nurture 5
Chapters 5 and 6 are done! Yippy! Chapter 7 is going to be a slice-of-life type of thing because I don't want to time skip straight to the bats finding out quite yet. Also, did y'all know that Gothamite also means an inhabitant of NYC? Whenever you see me use that just know I mean an inhabitant of Gotham City.
Enjoy!
Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 5 >>next
NYC was hell on earth and that’s coming from a Gothamite.
Sure- did a rogue attack 3 times a week, maybe more, in Gotham? Yes. But NYC felt lawless and without rhyme or reason. Every day something was happening, every day a building went down if it wasn’t a whole street, every day a hero would almost run you over while you were just trying to chill in the air.
At least on the third Tuesday of every month, there would be no robberies in Gotham, at least if something happened to the city and Batman wasn’t around the rogues would keep the people safe. Here it seemed to be everyone for themselves, and the rent was heinous for the type of bullshit that went down, in Gotham it was pennies compared to NYC. The constant feeling of being watched didn’t help either it irked at the back of your head every time, only stopping in the safety of your home.
The shadows stopped talking to you as well, you could barely hear them anymore, your theory being that NYC was simply too bright compared to G. City. Visiting Midnight City helped keep you connected to them, it felt somewhat like Gotham. But Darkwing felt too much like Batman, making you paranoid, so you never truly lingered for long. You missed them. Missed the rogues, the garden, the kids, the manor. The house really grew on you.
But you liked it. You liked the chaos, the myriads of heroes, the aliens that kept trying to conquer the world, and you enjoyed how the heroes knew that sometimes the best course of action was to kill the threat.
You were still bitter about how Joker took Jason from you, about how Mr. Wayne hid that from you, so seeing Omni-Man, War Woman, Immortal and so many more deal with clearly deadly threats as they should be dealt with felt nice. They would never let Joker live, the clown wouldn’t have millions of kills, and he wouldn’t have gotten Barbara and Jason.
Of course, you’ve heard rumors that while Batman doesn’t go out of his way to kill, he lets others do the dirty work, everyone in Gotham has. You’ve seen Lois Lane cover some of the bigger, worldwide alien attacks that the Justice League helped with. Batman didn’t seem to have a problem with killing or seriously injuring them. He was either a hypocrite or afraid to lose it once he did kill a human, either way, both were bad options.
So, you put up with it, found yourself a studio apartment owned by an old woman, overlooking the fact that the whole building may have been owned by a gang, and kept on doing your online schooling. Kept on making art, donating to charities and shelters, found yourself a nice job pet sitting, and even did some volunteering at local shelters when they needed an extra hand.
You got better at flying, getting so fast you could go around the globe in 5 minutes. It was fun visiting the places you heard Bruce talk about to the others, Algeria, Argentina, Australia, Austria, Bangladesh, Belgium, Brazil, and China. You were planning on visiting every city in every country with this newfound freedom. It was fun, and Bruce didn’t even notice as you used more and more of your allowance.
Sadly, your moments of peace and happiness always seemed to last for a short while. You were happy with just flying, it opened opportunities you didn’t even think were possible, but you’ve never seen a meta whose ability was only flying, not if they didn’t have wings, and maybe paranoia settled in.
Were you just dreaming? Was this just a really long dream? Were you dead? Would you go off the rocket when or if other powers showed up? What will you do when they do show up? You wanted to be an artist, to paint until your heart gave away. But if people needed help you wouldn’t be able to stay on the sidelines knowing you’re more than capable of lending a hand.
You knew you already had some strength power active- you wouldn’t be able to fly that fast without your skin peeling right off. Maybe it just made your skin stronger? Well, that’s how you ended up in a forest, or deep in a park- you weren’t sure, you flew without thinking, your thoughts and theories eating at you until you had to act.
The tree in front of you had an average-sized trunk, maybe on the smaller side compared to the others around you. You’ve been staring at it for a bit, debating if this really was something you wanted to see if you could do. “Ignorance is bliss” flew through your mind, but the full sayings of these quotes always rang at the back of your head. “Where ignorance is bliss, ‘tis folly to be wise”.
Your fist met the trunk with a small thud, you didn’t feel any pain, nothing was happening, so you bit your lip, closed your eyes tight, and punched the trunk harder. You heard the wood splinter before you saw it, your eyes flying wide open at the sound. The trunk had a dent in the shape of your fist, not quite all the way through. You still felt nothing.
Maybe you shouldn’t have tested out your strength this much, Ivy would have been quite mad at you for destroying so many trees, each one thicker than the last, but you were simply curious and made sure to clean up after yourself. It was weird. If you hit fast enough your arm could go right through quite cleanly, but there was no pain, none at all… Is this how Superman felt?
In your excitement, you didn’t even notice the figure above you, watching your every move or the flying orb camera doing the same. And while the figure kept watching you grow in your powers for a year, watched you help around in small ways, mostly clean up and small muggings, the orb stopped after a few months.
It took a while for you to be able to lift as much as you could now, for the first half of your newfound power you had to break stuff like big rubble down before you could lift them, you still found it amusing how Red Flash stayed quiet about you, but how could he not when you shushed him the first time he tried to tell the others. The man wasn’t about to fuck with Cecil’s worker, even though he might have said a word or two to the old man’s face about child labor.
Despite all that you truly felt happy, fulfilled even. You were doing art, helping people, and despite still working on having friends during the day part, you were glad you left. You were on cloud nine, well, literally more than figuratively. You were flying above the clouds, basking in the sun. Nothing could cloud your life anymore.
…Where did the sun go? Your eyes opened, blissful expression turning into a frown as your eyes caught a dark figure flying just a few paces over you, its eyes glowing, a wide grin showing a full set of teeth, cape billowing behind it.
What. The. Fuck.
Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion
hope I didn't forget anyone 😬
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utopiastri · 1 day ago
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Touch starved/cuddle curse for landoscar please!!! I love your writing so much, thank you for sharing 💕
hi anon! i went for cuddle curse because i always love an excuse to write magical realism - i hope you enjoy and thank you for the prompt!!!
“So. How much longer are we trapped like this?” Lando asks
Jon checks his watch and glances at the ceiling as he does some quick mental maths. “About seven more hours? Give or take.”
Lando groans and tries to tilt his head back dramatically only to be stopped abruptly when the back of his neck hits Oscar’s arm where it's curled around his shoulders. “Sorry, mate,” he grimaces.
“It’s ok,” Oscar says quietly, “Sorry for getting us in this mess.”
“It’s not your fault. Alright, well it’s not entirely your fault anyway,” Lando amends after Oscar gives him a look.
Jon clears his throat and Lando and Oscar both turn to look. “You boys all good here for the next few hours then? I'll be right next door if you need anything – you need anything before I go?” Oscar shakes his head and mutters a small thanks, but Lando stops to think about it for a second. He opens his mouth but Jon cuts him off. “Lando, no matter how many times you ask me, I’m not letting you have a cheat meal the night before a race just because your teammate got you cursed.”
Lando huffs. Oscar winces. Jon sighs.
“Fuck off then, if you’re not even gonna let me eat anything fun,” Lando grumbles.
Jon rolls his eyes and leaves the room. With him gone, Lando and Oscar fade into an awkward silence. Or as close to silence as you can get when you’re tangled so tightly with your teammate that you can hear every breath, every sniffle, every fidget. When the curse first pulled them together they'd experimented with lying further away from each other, but it resulted in so much pain for them both that they decided it would be better to just cling to each other instead.
For the record, Lando wasn’t kidding when he said this whole thing wasn’t entirely Oscar’s fault. Yes, Oscar’s the one who impeded Charles in quali today and yes, technically, Charles is the one whose magic accidentally manifested a curse on Oscar, but it’s not Oscar’s fault that Charles has never been able to control his magic.
“Why do you think Charles’ magic wound up casting a cuddle curse of all things?” Lando asks eventually, sick of the somewhat tense silence.
Oscar mumbles something but Lando can’t quite make it out.
“Hmm?”
“I said, I think the curse is having fun with the fact that Charles was pissed off that I was so close to him on track.”
“Huh?”
Oscar huffs. “I was too close to Charles on track so now the magic says I’ve gotta be too close to you instead.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry,” Oscar mumbles after a few more moments.
“I’ve told you you don’t need to apologise. It’s fine.”
“Oh, what, because you’re having such a wonderful time right now? Being forcibly stuck to your teammate when you could be in your own bed with as much space as you want?”
“I mean it’s not…like, I mean I know I said we were ‘trapped’ when Jon was here but like, it’s not…not nice.” Lando tries not to pull a face at the trainwreck of a sentence he just came out with.
He's not lying though. There is something not not nice about being cuddled up so close to Oscar. It’s warm for one thing, comforting for another. He’s always enjoyed the rare occasions he and Oscar have hugged for longer than your typical bro hug.
It’s not not nice.
It’s, well.
It's nice.
Like. Really nice.
Oscar makes a soft noise. “You, um, this is, uh…”
“Osc?”
Oscar takes a deep breath and then somehow manages to pull the two of them closer together, nuzzling his face into the side of Lando’s neck. “This ok?” he whispers. Lando can feel his lips move against his neck as he speaks.
“Yeah,” he replies as quietly as Oscar spoke. Tentatively, prepared to pull back at any moment, he takes the hand currently plastered to the back of Oscar’s shirt and dips it underneath, resting his palm there, skin against skin. “This oka–”
“Yes,” Oscar breathes, barely letting Lando finish the question, already leaning into the touch.
Lando swallows and does his best to tug Oscar in tighter.
Maybe being stuck like this for seven hours isn’t such a bad thing.
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haveateadude · 3 days ago
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stressed reader and ellie!!!
thought about this while crying in the shower and wrote this in a spam of an hour. and no warning... just pure tooth rotting sweet fluff, and being naked?? but it's nothing sexual tho. this is really rushed btw😭 sorry in advance. love uuuu
imagine coming home—body sore, tensed muscles, joints stiff. a pounding headache is slowly turning into a migraine, the pain creeping behind your eyes.
you drop your bag on the floor, closing the door softly behind you. you then take off your shoes and leave your coat on the hanger. you have no energy to tell ellie you're home, but luckily, she hears the door open and is quick to rush to you.
"hi, baby," she says gently, after kissing you, sensing your exhaustion. "long day?"
you don’t speak, just basically fall into her arms, wrapping your arms around her neck and mumbling a response against her shoulder. it answers her question.
"okay, we don’t have to talk." ellie presses a kiss against the top of your head, then pulls away slightly to kiss your forehead. after that, she presses another kiss, this time on your nose, then moves to both of your cheeks before her lips finally find yours. the kiss lingers for a while.
"i can run you a bath," she offers, her voice barely above a whisper. "how does that sound?"
you nod. "that’d be nice."
"that’s what we’ll do, then."
minutes later, you're sitting in the tub, and ellie has joined you. your legs are pulled to your chest, arms hugging your frame as you sit between ellie’s legs. the water is nice—so perfectly warm that you feel yourself getting a little sleepy. her hands find their way to your bare back, her thumbs rubbing against the most tense spots.
"you’re so tense," ellie says, stopping the movement of her hands to push away the wet hair sticking to your back so she can place a kiss there. her lips feel soft against your skin, like they always do. both of her hands travel to your upper arms, rubbing them up and down. she then whispers against your skin, "you need to start relaxing... you know you’re gonna tire yourself out if you keep going like this."
"i can handle this."
"yeah, i know you can. but you also need to rest. what if you take the day off tomorrow, hm? i’ll take care of you."
you want to argue back, to say that you can keep going, that you’re able to do more. but you're feeling like shit and the idea of staying next to ellie sounds too good to resist.
"just us?" you ask.
ellie nods, "just us, baby."
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mamayura · 1 day ago
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Okay but what's crazy is that the episode does subtly reveal that Adrien did keep it a secret from Marinette that he's more than silent jogging buddies with Sublime
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In the beginning, Marinette says that when she asked Adrien if he and Sublime talk when they go running he always says "no". This is factually correct as we find out in the end through Sublime:
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But there is obviously something not adding up here. Sublime literally says "Outside of running, of course Adrien and I talk". They just arent talking in any of their morning runs because Sublime in particular is doing it as serious training. So no talking because that would impact their breathing, but outside of that? Well, yeah, duh.
And that makes sense
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Adrien and Sublime are in the same ancient Greek class, of course they would talk. I'm gonna go with the assumption that this is why Sublime started running by his side, because they vaguely knew each other from Greek class and when they crossed each others running paths one morning they were familiar enough to just run together in silence
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Look, I- I dont know how to put this more elegantly, so I'll rip off the bandaid. The vibes I'm getting from this episode are that Adrien was more than cool with not talking anyway because he deliberately keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because he knew Marinette would be weird about it and that made him uncomfortable.
He knows his girlfriend and she's peanut-butter-and-jealous.
And the thing is, as much as this certainly is a complicated topic with a lot of factors to consider for both sides, the way the episode had Marinette go about all this...
... the episode proved him RIGHT. He was right to be too uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about being friends with Sublime. She merely found out that they were running together in silence and proceeded to not only keep watching them each morning and taking photos, Marinette even proceeded to stalk the hell out Sublime:
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No, this isnt normal. This isnt a "quirky girlfriend" thing to do, or "funny haha". Its one of the reason why Adrien didnt feel comfortable letting her know.
And, I mean, yeah. I can't blame him for it, can I? :I
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Later on, Sublime is very quick to piece together that the girl hiding behind them is Adrien's girlfriend. Not the thing I would immediately go with, unless of course Adrien did already vaguely mention having a girlfriend to Sublime at one point. Then yes, her coming to this conclusion after Marinette followed her all day makes a lot more sense. Even if those are not.. nice implications. The episode does go on playing it straight at first that Marinette is the weird and a bit alarming girlfriend.
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Look, you can pretty this up if you like, but for me, Adrien is clearly a solid bit uncomfortable and very apologetic here to Sublime because of Marinette's behavior. Sublime too is being nice about it to a degree you shouldnt take for granted. She would have had been perfectly justified in saying something else entirely. Adrien is trying to be a good boyfriend about this, but Marinette is out here proving him right in having struggled with wanting her to know about Sublime. Marinette has been following her around all day, Sublime noticed, and Adrien is doing good faith damage control here by telling Sublime that Marinette has good intentions and only wants to be her friend.
Something, though, that the episode clarified 3 times wasnt really the case:
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It is so weird that at the core of the problem for both sides of Adrinette WAS Marinette being peanut-butter-and-jealous.
Marinette did NOT try to befriend Sublime out of some pure-hearted desire to know her. She did so because she feared that Adrien could end up not loving her anymore if she doesnt gain some control over the Sublime situation real quick
And Adrien DID keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because, well, was he wrong?
And thats the thing. The episode just DROPS this in favor of saying that Marinette only had these pure-hearted intentions to know her when that isnt true. The episode proved Adrien alarmingly RIGHT in his gut feeling to keep Sublime a secret from Marinette, they just-
They just didnt let him know about any of it as if that makes it any less true. I would understand it if this episode had been entirely about tackling this issue for good. Adrien not being wrong for feeling uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about any new female friends and then Adrien gets proven right, but the situation is saved by Marinette's secondary desire of befriending Sublime.
Sure, not the plot of my choice, but I would GET IT because it would actually cover the given problem. Here it is... they didnt do it. Adrien was proven right, Marinette did everything wrong to Sublime that was possible and ended up breaking her prosthetic and ruined the sponsorship with a combo of Marinette's and Ladybug's harmful inconsideration.
Marinette did exactly what Adrien was afraid of... and they just DON'T resolve the initial Adrinette core of this issue. It's still ongoing. Marinette didnt even get to react in the end to finding out that Adrien did keep her in the dark about talking to Sublime:
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I guess for now the explanation for that will be that Adrinette switched positions in this for once and now it's Marinette who isnt questioning it enough that Adrien only said the truth to her going by the technicality of "She only ask him if they talk while running".
Obviously, this is not how it works. He kept her in the dark. And whether he was right to doing so or not isnt important for the feeling I'm getting that this is just the beginning of a streak of similar problems like this. The postponed resolution to this will happen at a later point, and knowing Miraculous, they'll do it after it escalates to hell.
We already saw it in "Illustrhater" and the synopsis for "Werepapas" for example also sounds like Marinette will not stop here being a questionable girlfriend
I just dont understand why they would keep on DOING that?
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kaisaerinlover · 20 hours ago
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kaiser x very tragic and isolated reader. and innocent. and idk how else to describe this but yeah just read ok
he’s a bit ooc here especially for my writing cause he’s being nice
you don’t feel like you have any purpose, you’re a girl in a world full of people with so many talents. so much beauty and so much of, well, everything. but you’ve never fit into that. never had anything of your own. you are you, isolated little you. every day you’ve lived has been to please others, you don’t ever recall actually living a life of your own volition at all. everything is for everyone else, or was, it’s for kaiser now.
he’s glad he found you, because he likes you a lot. you’re similar to him, after all. maybe not in the way you’d imagine. you’re isolated, because you have no one. you were used by everyone around you for whatever personal gain they had and discarded again after as if you were some sort of tool and not more than that. he’s isolated because he thrives in restriction, thrives in loneliness, thrives from the idea that nobody likes him and he’s a piece of shit; because that’s all he grew up knowing anyway.
he likes that you have no friends, likes that you’re the same as him. likes that he can have you to himself, in his own sick way. he knows it’s wrong but he can’t help it. he remembers when he first met you and you were nothing more than an empty shell counting down the days until you finally disappear. any outsider would consider it a curse that someone like kaiser entered your life at such a fragile and tender time; a time when you’re so clearly depressed and suffering, but you deem it a blessing. he remembers the dates you would go on, the love bombing and manipulating he did, that never seemed to work as intended on you. you were just so grateful for everything he did in general, so happy, so eager to please. it was endearing. you’re really his first love, he can promise you that. you’re the first person who really ever opened his heart up. and, he hates admitting it but, the first person he’s ever truly pitied.
he’s sorry for you, real sorry in fact. sorry that you feel the way you do, that you are the way you are. you don’t even allow him to give you as much affection as he’d sometimes like to. and it angers him a bit. he’s not one for these things, so the fact you deny him of them sometimes when it’s exceedingly rare of him to be so kind pisses him off. but it also makes him like you more. and pity you more. and loathe himself more. he likes taking you out for a stroll in the quaint little countryside town he moved you both to (he prefers the isolation he has with his huge mansion a bit further off the road from the village), he likes it. and you’re so in awe every time, without a doubt. big eyes looking around at everything curiously. he feels sorry for you, really really fucking sorry. so new to the world and everything to do with it. he has one memory in particular he’s fond of.
when he brought you out into the village for the first time and you excitedly ran and started picking flowers from someone’s garden. “you can’t pick those, those aren’t public property” he chastised you. and you didn’t listen, you just handed him the handful of tulips you just plucked from the ground of some poor old couple’s front garden and hopped over to the next one to pick some more. he mentally sighed but god your naïveté was so endearing, it still is. he’s always reminded that you’re living for the first time too, but maybe not just in terms of just existence. you’re experiencing life for the first time, he can tell you’ve never lived for yourself before. simply kept inside and made to abide by whatever it was everyone had you doing before. he hasn’t much context on your family, or whatever bunch of people it was that you lived with before him. but he knows they aren’t nice since the first time he met you you were preoccupied with obeying whatever orders they barked at you. you looked so empty, you were at a shopping centre carrying everything. he remembers seeing you so often around town with these people, looking so empty and doing their bidding, he just had to have you for himself. he likes pathetic things, but now he realises maybe he’s the pathetic one for you. he’s entranced by your innocence. he likes crushing beautiful things beneath his thumb; would gladly spit on a flower and stamp on it, so he’s not sure why his psyche is constantly making him be oh so fucking kind to you.
he remembers that same day you vandalised the poor village folks gardens, you sat on top of the roof of the church clocktower, in front of the huge ticking hands of time, doing nothing but eating rusk and ice creams. his hand over yours and your hair blowing in the wind. you were so fascinated by the sunset, how the sky changed colour into something so impossibly beautiful. you were just so enamoured by everything; such innocence is refreshing. his heart actually skipped a few beats. you stared at the sunset which was so astonishing and new to you after so many years of whatever the fuck it was you were doing (he doesn’t want to know, he can’t let himself feel even more pity for you, too many human emotions felt by him and he’s sure he’d explode) but all he could look at was the tragically beautiful girl next to him.
he tried to invite you out more after that, and he can’t forget what you told him. you looked up at him and smiled, a sad smile if he’s being honest, and all you said was “don’t worry, this was more than enough for someone like me”. someone like you, he hates the way it rolled off of your tongue so naturally. it sounds like a curse. someone like you. everyone deserves a break, you don’t even think you deserve it. god. he hates the fact it actually twists his insides and makes them churn so disgustingly. he remembers when he finally helped you escape whatever life it was you were living before too, how you insisted he didn’t have to, how the memories of your very very few escapades out were enough to tide you over for the rest of your life, hell, even all of eternity if you were to live that long. he wasn’t having it. maybe he saw himself in you, someone who needed help and just never received it. when he was living with his piece of shit dad still, he knows he would have loved some help. he remembers when he stopped merely existing and started living for himself. the feeling is liberating; maybe he wants to give you that liberation too. but you’ll never do that, it’s fine though, you live for him and it’s more than enough.
you’re really tragic. even kaiser admits that. you’re still as kind and sweet as the day he met you years ago. and it’s just sad, because sometimes he’s so mean with you. but he really cares about you, he does. that’s why he’s scratching your head now as you’re laid on him drawing something random on a notebook he bought for you. he bought you some colours from the village and a book and told you to go wild, and you did. he doesn’t even know why he did that, he likes hiding behind a facade of luxury. spoiling his girls rotten, giving them whatever expensive brand he saw first and showering them in gifts worth more than their entire family combined. but he doesn’t want to with you. it’s not that he doesn’t want to spoil you; the opposite actually. those gifts are just… not you. don’t get him wrong, you have a wardrobe of clothes that costed more than a pretty penny. but he’d rather get you items of sentiment. money also seems dirty to him, he’s not sure why that’s the association he holds with it. you’re pure; he doesn’t want to just turn you into some whore who’s obsessed with cash. a dirty slut. you’re too good for that. he thinks your childlike wonder of the world doesn’t suit this. and besides, your drawings are pretty cute. he likes watching you like this, watching you get so lost in something. seeing you have a bit of passion/a hobby. at first, he couldn’t quite get you to indulge yourself in anything at all, not even something as simple as doodling on paper. you always just gave him that mellow look and shook your head. he remembers when he first handed you the colours and book: “micha i don’t need it, don’t worry, i just wanna be useful to you” he hated that answer. he’s not even sure why.
he doesn’t know why he cares so much. he’s staring at your head so hard whilst in thought he’s surprised you haven’t noticed it yet. well, you have, you’re just pretending you don’t know. you don’t want to bother him.
he’s never cared so deeply about anything before other than football. he’s heartless. he’s not human so he shouldn’t have any feelings remotely similar to human emotions. this doesn’t align with the warmness in his heart he feels when he looks down at you drawing away to that sweet heart of yours’ content. and he just audibly growls in frustration. man, every fibre of his being is telling him he needs to take care of you and treat you right, and he agrees with it, that’s the worst part. you perk up at his growl and look up at him. and he just takes your notebook off of you along with the pens, puts them down on the table and grabs your hand. you know where you’re going, so you walk with him to the door to slip your shoes on too.
it’s evening now, and you’re sitting in front of the clock again. ticking away. watching the perfectly orange sky as the sun slowly descends ready to be replaced by the moon. licking away at a popsicle. both of you wrapped in one of kaiser’s coats. doing the same stupid routine as always. you looking in awe at the beauty of the world, the universe in general. and him looking in awe over the beauty of you. it’s like the sun only rises and falls to kiss your face with all of its light. you’re so pretty like this, hair falling down your face slightly and your face glowing in the radiant light. he likes the routine (though he hates admitting it). it’s comfy for him. the public thinks he’s some put together luxurious princeling, which is true he supposes. but with you he doesn’t have to. he feels… poor again. in a weirdly comforting way. sitting in front of the huge church’s clock, where you both definitely aren’t allowed to be sitting. licking at some cheap popsicle he bought from the small supermarket. holding your hand and admiring you. this feels like the most real version of him, and he’s glad he can show it around you.
as he snaps out of his thoughts, he notices you looking at him. big eyed with popsicle dripping a little down your mouth, so he reaches out with his thumb to wipe it away. god, he’s almost melting in his spot. he tries to conceal it, but he can’t be sure if he’s doing a good job or not. he hates how you’re the first person to make him feel like he’s in his puppy love phase all over again; he’s fucked countless women, had so many escapades you wouldn’t believe it, so much psychology books read and embedded into his brain, so much control over his stimuli, so good at pretending he doesn’t care. but with you he simply can’t. “thanks for this” you say. your voice is smooth as honey in his ears “for doing this for someone like me.” he hates when you say that. he just sighs and moves a little of your pretty hair behind your ear. “anything for you” it’s true. he would do anything for you. anything for someone like you, he knows it even more as you giggle at his simple action.
he’s more similar to you than either of you think, never quite believing you’re human and worth much. kaiser referring to himself as a subhuman, and you always dancing around the subject. “someone like me”. bullshit, kaiser thinks.
you shuffle a bit towards him and cup his cheek to kiss him, blushing the whole time as you do it. and he’s taken aback too, still kissing you back though. you’ve done this countless times but there isn’t a single kiss that doesn’t make him feel butterflies inside. not a single kiss for you either that doesn’t make your stomach fold in on itself. as he kisses your sweet lips he can’t help but to think about how he wants to take you out more. to see more places, more dates, more of the world. he wants to spoil you with life. he wants you to live, he wants you to feel as liberated as he felt the first time he discovered soccer. he wants to fix you.
and you are slowly fixing him too. it’s funny, you’re both so human and you both have trouble accepting that. both so human and both so deserving of love. both need to live for themselves, but there’s always going to be room for the other in this dynamic.
that’s something you can both agree on. both of you thinking of the other as your head rests on top of his that’s laid on your shoulder looking at the sky ahead. it’s comforting, two humans, breathing in sync, thoughts in sync, seeing the same thing, holding hands. a love so pure, purity michael kaiser didn’t even know he could welcome into his life. but he doesn’t mind, he likes it. you like it too, love you didn’t think you’d ever be able to accept before, here in your hands.
as mean as he tries to act, as evil as he might be, unfortunately he just can’t quite bring himself to fully commit to it when it comes to you. when he’s around you.
and you, albeit a little stupid at times, recognise this. and maybe, just maybe, it makes you feel happy inside. selfishly happy. maybe living for kaiser is like living for yourself, you’re like one soul divided into two bodies. he agrees.
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tsumuus · 1 day ago
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Hiii I'm here for the valentines event if you'll have me
How about receiving an anonymous letter from Osamu, your childhood best friend since diapers. Plot twist? Reverse "to all the boys I loved before" where it's his attempt in confessing through a corny love letter starting from kinder, grade school, middle school, and now the latest anonymous confession- high school.
It (being years worth of attempted love letters) wasn't supposed to find itself in your locker, I guess fate (Atsumu) had other plans for both you and Osamu this valentines.
No pressure in this ask, feel free to discard this if you don't feel like it- have a nice day!!
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Osamu Miya met you when he was five years old, and that was all it took. One meeting, one shared carton of juice at snack time, one moment of your bright smile aimed right at him, and he was gone.
A week later, he wrote you a letter.
His five-year-old hands gripped a crayon too tightly as he scribbled out the messy confession, his heart racing even though you weren’t there to see it. His letters were uneven, his words barely legible, but the message was clear: I like you. A lot.
But when the time came to give it to you, he couldn't. His palms got sweaty, his stomach twisted, and he shoved the letter into the back of his closet, hidden behind his toys.
One letter turned into another, then another. Every year, on Valentine's Day, he wrote you a new one, promising himself that this year would be the year he gave it to you. But every year, he chickened out. The letters stacked up, filling a small box buried in the back of his closet, each one chronicling his growing love for you, each one holding words he could never bring himself to say out loud.
Atsumu knew, of course. He had known since the very first letter, because Osamu was bad at hiding things from him. And for years, Atsumu let him be, let him hold onto his secret, until he finally decided enough was enough.
So, on the morning of February 14th in your second year of high school, you opened your locker to an avalanche of old, yellowed letters.
They tumbled out in a flurry of paper, slipping from the shelves and falling to the floor in front of you. You blinked, startled, as students around you glanced over, whispering.
The first letter you picked up was old. The handwriting was horrible- big, uneven letters written in crayon. I like you a lot.
Your heart clenched. You picked up another one, the ink slightly smudged. You looked really pretty today. I wanted to tell you, but I was too nervous.
Another. I think I’ve loved you since I was five. Maybe even before that. I don’t know how that’s possible, but it has to be true.
One after another, you read through them, your heartbeat growing louder with each one. By the time you finished, your hands were shaking, not from nerves but from something warm and overwhelming. Love. Affection. A feeling that had always been there, waiting for you to see it.
You had to find Osamu.
You barely heard the murmurs of your classmates as you turned on your heel, marching straight to his classroom. The moment you reached the door, you didn’t hesitate, stepping inside and scanning the room until your eyes landed on him.
“Osamu.”
His head snapped up from his desk, eyes wide at your sudden appearance. “Huh? What-”
“Come with me.”
He barely had time to react before you grabbed his wrist, pulling him into the hallway. His heart was hammering now, but for all the wrong reasons. He had a sinking feeling he knew exactly why you were here.
And then you showed him.
The letters, held carefully in your hands, the pages slightly crumpled from how tightly you’d been gripping them. His breath caught in his throat.
He recognized them immediately.
His world tilted. “I- where- ”
“You wrote these.”
Osamu swallowed hard, panic rising like a tide. “I don’t- how did you-”
“They were in my locker this morning.”
His stomach dropped. He whipped around, scanning the hallway as if he could catch Atsumu in the act, but the bastard was nowhere to be seen. Of course. That idiot.
“I- I don’t know how they got there,” he started, scrambling for an explanation, for anything that would make this moment less terrifying. “I never wanted you to see them- I mean, I did, but not like this- I was gonna throw them away, or burn them or somethin’-”
“Burn them?” you repeated, voice gentle.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at you. “Yeah, ‘cause- ‘cause they’re embarrassing, and you probably feel weird now, and I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anythin’-”
“Osamu.”
He kept rambling. “I swear I wasn’t tryin’ to creep you out or nothin’-”
“Osamu.”
His mouth snapped shut at the way you said his name. Soft. Certain.
“Did you mean what you wrote?” you asked, holding the letters closer to your chest.
Osamu felt dizzy. “...What?”
“Every single thing?”
He swallowed thickly. “Yeah. I meant every word.”
A pause. Then-
“Good.”
Osamu blinked. “Good?”
You stepped closer, the warmth of your presence making his breath hitch. “Because I like you too.”
The words took a second to register. When they did, Osamu’s brain short-circuited. “You- you do?”
You smiled, and he thought he might actually pass out.
Then, before he could say anything else, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
“I expect a letter every Valentine’s from now on,” you murmured, eyes shining with something that made his chest feel like it might burst.
Then you turned on your heel and walked back to class, leaving Osamu standing there, utterly frozen.
His fingers twitched. His cheek burned where your lips had been. His heart pounded so loud he thought the whole school might hear it.
And then a thought hit him, so certain and real that it knocked the breath out of him.
He’d write you a letter every day if it meant he got to be with you.
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valentines event | masterlists
a/n i love this request sm thank you anon this has been my favorite thing to write so far in this event that i just had to post it first lemme give you a big fat slobbery kiss muah muah💋💦 hope you liked it as much as i loved writing it !!!! :)
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sukunasluvrr · 3 hours ago
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Nerd Gojo who was an absolute simp for you. The poor man so badly wanted to get his hands on you in some way, but he knew he wouldn’t have a chance. You were way out of his league. You, the popular girl who hung around people like Sukuna and Kenjaku and were always present in frat parties. Often ending up with a pillow between his legs and humping the poor fabric like a desperate dog while whimpering your name over and over again, leaving the sheet soiled with his sticky sperm and a hint of shame in his actions, how did he end up this down bad for you?? Nobody knew.
He’d often help you out with your studies and tests, often doing them for you after you bat your lashes prettily at him and asked him real nicely. It really didn’t take much to convince him, looking at you with puppy eyes and his glasses that sat so adorably on the bridge of his nose as he nods and mutters „of course..“ under his breath. But he couldn’t take it anymore, one day while you were in his dorm, him helping you with a project- he couldn’t help himself. He was already half hard because of your tits being in his sight and the smell of your perfume that invaded his senses. Looking at you with his usual puppy like stare as he took all the courage he had. “Can you… stay the night?” He asked almost in a hushed tone. You had to look twice to make sure you weren’t imagining this,
“You want me to stay the night?” You asked him, to make sure you didn’t just hear it wrong, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation, hands moving to your hips as he got onto his knees- actually begging for you
“Please… just give me this one night… I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, this night and the rest of our semesters… but I’m begging you, I just wanna feel you for once…“
He was so desperate… it was almost cute. And his offer was quite tempting, so you agreed and he practically grinned in excitement. Already pulling you to the bed and kissing over your skin in soft pecks, being so gentle with it, like you could break if he went to hard and rough on you. His hands big enough to cup both your breasts through your top as he started kneading the soft subtle flesh, small whimpers leaving him from the feeling as he made you lay back on his bed, straddling your hips and grinding lightly against you, feeling the imprint of his length pressing against you. He already felt big through the fabric and the man wasn’t even fully hard yet!! He was still gentle with you, constantly asking if you really want this to which you nodded and he kept going. Removing his glasses and putting them on the nightstand as he started undressing you, lips pressing against your neck. Getting your top and bra off with practiced ease, without even wasting another second his lips were kissing around your breasts, kissing the underside of one while the other was being teased by his hand, thumb circling around your nippe and lightly pinching it while his mouth worked on coating the other in his spit, tongue circling around it and softly sucking on it like he was worshipping your chest. Earning small sounds from your lips and your hand moving into his hair while he kept this up for a few minutes until you remembered his offer, softly pulling him off your chest
„You said you’ll let me do anything, right?“ your voice a little shaky and breathy from arousal, „and I wanna ride you, pretty“ and god you could see the wheels turning in his head as he made sense of your words. Hearts practically forming in his eyes as he nods eagerly, already sitting up to remove his clothes with shaky hands
„Yes!! Yes yes yes, anything for you“ the moment his clothes were off and he was left in his boxers with a obvious tent standing out, his hands were already on you again, your words seeming to having made him only 10 times more desperate and harder for you, pulling at your sweatpants to get them off of you and pulling you on top of him, eyebrows furrowed in a pathetic way and puppy eyes looking up at you
„do whatever you want to me… spit on me, use me like a stupid toy, I just want you… I need you“
His words so desperate and full of emotion as his hips started bucking up into yours, moaning at the stimulation to his sensitive clothed cock. Your hands finding way to to his chest for stability as you tried to get him to calm down, not even having gotten your panties off yet and the slick was smearing over your pussy lips almost uncomfortably
„ 'toru… calm down for a second, I’m not going anywhere“
You tried to reason with him, but your words went to blank ears while he kept grinding up against you, hands already starting to pull his boxers down and fingers pulling at the strings of your panties to get the flimsy fabric off your skin and get access to your sweet pussy, accidentally ripping the fabric and pulling it off, the moment he made eye contact with your glistened cunt he felt like he was in a dream, his movements stopping for once and hands parting your thighs a little more and pulling your closer to his hard and proud standing dick. Making you gasp for a second as you saw it, already knowing that the stretch would probably make your poor pussy remember him for the next few weeks. He of course noticed your stare, and he thought you were disappointed
„it’s not really that big… sorry to disa-„ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his words before you interrupted him
„NO! No, oh my god, you’re probably the biggest I’ve ever had“
And you could’ve sworn you saw a light twitch in his dick when he heard your words, a soft hint of red tinting his pale cheeks, watching as your hand moves around his cock to give a few pumps to it, watching and listening for his reactions while he gave the prettiest whimpers from himself, hips bucking into your hand for more, before he could get a word out, he watched you let a globe of spit drop onto his tip, making his lower stomach cave in a little from the sensation on his sensitive dick. Already starting to beg for more, eyes half lidded while he watched you tease his poor, already angry looking tip. Your hand smearing the salvia over his cock to lube him up a bit before you moved, hovering a little over him with your knees pressed into the mattress and your entrance teasing his tip, letting it slip in and out faintly but never truly sinking down on him, making him almost cry while he endured the sweet torture of your pussy. The feel of your slick hole against his sticky tip almost too much to bear, having spend weeks if not months imagining how it would feel while fisting his dick to the thought of you almost pathetically at night. And now he was so so close to getting what he wanted, to feeling the slick warm walls of your heat around his throbbing length. It took some encouragement to actually have you sink down on him, the stretch mean and making you hiss a little, earning a small look of concern from him, his hands moving to your hips and rubbing soft circles into your skin in an attempt to soothe you while you got used to the size of him inside of you. The moment you started moving your hips against him, he felt like he ascended to heaven. A small groan leaving him and head titling back into the pillows to focus on your hips working to bounce along his dick, not able to keep his own from thrusting up into you from below- weakly at first but picking up in pace and firmness the faster you got. His eyes fixated on your face to look at every crunch of your nose, brows and the part of your lips whole moans left your mouth, his moans and groans being heard along yours, as well as the undeniable sound of skin against skin and the soft squelches of your cunt working on his dick to milk his cum from him. His fingers still digging into your hips but not moving them to bring you out of rhythm. Each stroke of your warm cunt around his dick had his mouth gaping and slutty sounds escaping from it. Your slick already trickling down his length and coating his balls, surely leaving a mess on the sheets but neither of you cared when you were riding him so good. Trying to keep his eyes on you and watching your tits bounce, unable to resist but move his hands to cup the soft flesh and knead gently
„you’re so pretty sweetheart…“ he muttered under his breath, his voice sounding somewhat shaky along with his whines and moans of pleasure
„don’t wanna be without your pussy ever again… ngh- fuck…. Keep going“
It was embarrassing to say he got close already, having been hard ever since you were with him and being so needy for you he couldn’t control himself, a pathetic whine leaving and eyebrows furrowing as his eyes closed „mhhff…. I’m gonna cum…“ his words were barely heard by you, wing lost in your own world and almost in a trance while using his dick to get yourself off, but you weren’t gonna be cruel… how could you be cruel to the sweet, nerd guy, who collected comics and who actually knew something about female anatomy???
„Go on Baby… cum for me“ giving him the go ahead because you were close yourself. Working the both of you to the edge at the same time, moaning your name as he came with a thrust up into your cunt, hands pulling you down by your hips to keep your warm walls around his dick, feeling your inner walls throb around his spent cock while you came at the same time as him was even better, feeling like he was being killed by your tight heat- breath coming out in gasps and brain going blank. „Ohhh ffffucck“ was all he could mutter out, you still gave weak grinds of your hips against his, rising out your own pleasure before you came to a stop and slumped down against him, face against his chest and listening to his fast heartbeat. Keeping him seethed inside of you, too exhausted to have him pull out just yet. But.. to your shock, he was still hard. Barely even calmed down from his highs and already bucking into you again
„Mff, another round??“
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flowery-mess · 1 day ago
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healing touches
Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / feeling sick / throwing up / let me know if anything else should be mentioned
Words: 1,8k
Author's note: I missed frat Noah❤️‍🩹 I have more interesting one shots for you, but I didn't want to push it when I'm not in the mood for it, so at least some fluff Noah for you
frat Noah masterlist
You and Noah don’t text on a daily basis, so when you didn’t send him any new messages for three days, he didn’t think much of it.
He got ready for another party at his fraternity’s house, dressing himself in black loose jeans and black oversized t-shirt. Before leaving his apartment he put on two silver bracelets around his right arm, his fancy watch on left hand and also new ring. Throwing black jacket over his shoulders, he checked his phone to see his uber driver will be at his place in 3 minutes, giving him time to put shoes on and leave.
Noah is not the type to drink every week, but tonight he planned on getting loose a bit. That’s why he decided to leave his black car parked in front of the main building and take an uber.
The drive to the campus where the party was held was short, but he managed to text you ‘Are you coming tonight?’ text.
He knew you didn’t come every week, but tonight he really felt like having drinks and leaving with you.
15 minutes passed by and still no reply from you. Maybe you’re getting ready with your friends or already on the way, he thought.
“Hey man!” Matt pulled Noah in their bro hug, handing him cold beer fresh from the fridge.
“Hey, where’s the rest of the guys?” Noah asked, looking around the living room. Looking for the rest of his friends, but also for you.
Matt led him outside where the rest of their friend group was hanging out. Noah took spot next to Nick, listening to the conversation so he could join them.
----------
“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Clara asked you for like the 10th time today.
“Yes, I will. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.” you replied, feeling guilty for the attitude when Clara was just being nice.
For three days straight you’ve been sick. It started on Wednesday when you threw up at the school bathroom, not knowing where it came from, but you still didn’t get rid of it. Along with it came fever and weakness.
Clara and Molly were getting ready for yet another party and you secretly wished they’ll both find someone to spend the night with, so you could have the dorm for yourself and don’t feel bad about occupying the bathroom most of the night.
“We’re leaving, Ella. If you need anything just text or call and we’ll be back, okay?” Molly assured you with a kiss on your forehead. Since you became sick she got into this ‘mom mode’ which you appreciated, but also needed a break from.
When you heard the door close, you picked yourself from the bathroom floor, crossing the room as quick as you could and throwing yourself in your bed.
-----------------
One thing about Clara is that she’s a loud person, so whenever she arrives somewhere, everyone knows it. When her and Molly arrived at the frat house, they didn’t bother to walk through the living room full of sweaty people, they went for the backyard straight away. They were scanning the people that were already hanging out there and when Clara saw group from her class she yelled at them from the other side of the big garden.
Noah knew her voice so instinctively his head turned around, but his face turned into a frown when he saw only Molly and Clara. That was weird, because you always came together.
He texted you again ‘Hey, I saw Molly and Clara, you here too?’ and put his phone away, waiting for your answer.
One hour later still with no answer from you, Noah got a bit worried. His plans of getting drunk no longer happening, but he couldn’t say the same about your two friends.
He was walking towards the group of people Molly and Clara were hanging out with, pretty visible that they already consumed enough alcohol to be at least tipsy.
“Hi Noah.” Clara was first to notice him.
“Hi,” Noah cleared his throat, not sure what to say as he didn’t think this through, “where’s Ella?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, huh?” Molly smirked at him, her eyes giving her drunken state away.
“Yes, that’s why I asked.” he didn’t like talking with Molly, feeling her disgust in every word she said to him. He turned to face Clara again, but Molly was quicker to speak up.
“She’s on a date.” came out of her mouth before she could realise what she said.
“On a date?” Noah repeated.
“Yep, with a guy that’s not you.” Molly continued to tease Noah, who didn’t know if she was serious or not. He looked at Clara hoping she would tell him the truth, but she was too drunk to stop giggling. At Molly’s joke? At his confused face? He didn’t know.
“Amazing, thanks for your help.” Noah said without any emotion in his voice, turning around and leaving. He didn’t even stop to tell the guys he’s leaving, he just left.
He started walking in the direction to your dorms, thankful for the few minute walk to get a hold of himself. He was angry, because either Molly made fun of him or you were actually on a date and broke your deal.
He sneaked into the building you three were living in and had to stop himself in front of your door to take a deep breath, calming himself down that there’s a possibility that you won’t open your door and actually be having a dinner with some guy.
He knocked on your door and waited, nothing. He knocked again, nothing. He repeated that move few more times, his knocking more and more loud each time. Then he tried to call you and he heard your phone ring inside. Did you have the guy over at your place? With that thought he made himself even angrier and started knocking like a crazy person.
Meanwhile you laid in bed, your head hurting from all the noises. First you thought someone was here for Molly or Clara, then your phone started ringing and then the knocking got louder.
It took all of your strength to get up from your bed and open the door with very annoyed “What?”
You saw Noah in all black, his face confused and phone in his hand ready to call you again.
“Hi?” he suddenly didn’t know what to say.
“What are you doing here?” you asked him without any form of greeting.
“Are you okay?” Noah noticed your tangled hair and your pale face.
“Do I look like I’m okay?” you spat back at him, wanting whatever this was to be over so you could go lay in your bed again.
“Molly said you were on a date.” he finally said, his cheeks turning a bit red as he realised how does it look.
You managed short laugh out of yourself before saying “On a date? She really doesn’t like you.”
“Well, now that I know you didn’t break our deal… are you okay? Because you look terrible.” Noah made one step towards you and put his hand on your forehead.
“I’m sick.” you whispered and closed your eyes, feeling the relief of Noah’s cold hand against your hot skin.
“Okay, I’m coming in.” Noah said and closed the door behind him. After he took his shoes off he led you to your bed.
“You don’t have to stay Noah.” you told him as he laid you down and put the blanket over your body.
“Well I’m here already, so.” he shrugged his shoulders as if taking care of sick your wasn’t any bother. “What do you need?”
“I don’t know. I have a high fever, my head hurts and I throw up.”
“Did you take any medicine?” Noah’s face looked concerned as he tucked you in, because you were shivering from the fever.
“Yes mom.” he was glad that you were joking, it was a good sign.
“I’m gonna make you some black tea that should help with the sickness, okay?” and with that he left your room to make some tea for you.
He brought some dry biscuits along with the tea, making you eat at least one and drink some tea.
“Move.” he said and stood up to take his jacket off.
“What?”
“Move a little so I can lay down too.”
“You’re not laying in my bed in your dirty jeans.”
“God.” he sighed, but took off his jeans and made you move so he could somehow lay next to you in your small bed.
“What are you doing?” was he cuddling you? Holding you? Why?
“Shut up, you’re cuddling me every night you stay at my place.” he put his arm around you so you could lay your head on his chest. You knew you did, because every morning you woke up earlier than Noah and found yourself in his arms, on his chest or him on yours.
“Maybe if Molly would see this, she’d hate you less.”
“This doesn’t make us boyfriend and girlfriend, I’m just being a helpful friend.”
“I know.”
“The sooner you get better, the sooner we can have sex.”
“You shut up now.” you smacked his chest, knowing he was joking.
He took your laptop and opened some random show on Netflix.
You couldn’t help yourself, so you asked him “Did you really think I’d break our deal?”
“No, but you didn’t reply to any of my messages for the last few days and I didn’t now if Molly was joking or not.”
“Sorry, I was busy throwing up.” Noah laughed, but you still wanted him to know that you wouldn’t betray him like that. “Don’t worry Noah, I’ll tell you when I’m interested in someone and want to stop this between us. Okay?”
“Okay.”
And with that you slowly felt your eyes closing, before fully falling asleep on Noah’s chest.
---------
When you woke up hours later, the left side of your bed was empty and Noah was nowhere to be seen.
Your laptop was back on your table and your mug was full of fresh tea. Next to it was note from Noah, it said “Drink the tea and get better so next week I don’t have to sleep in this small bed again.”
You appreciated that Molly and Clara didn’t come back, they wouldn’t stop with teasing you if they saw you and Noah cuddled in your bed.
You didn’t mind that Noah left when you were asleep, you were happy to see someone else than the girls at least for a while.
You reached for your phone, seeing it was 4 in the morning. You had few messages from Molly asking if you’re okay, then you saw Noah’s messages and clicked on them. You quickly sent him ‘thank you for stopping by' text, finishing the mug of still warm tea and falling back asleep.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.
Tag list: @lacy1986 @chey-h @xmads-omensx @blade-dressed-in-red @respectfulrebel
Click here if you want to be on my taglist
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milessunflowers · 3 days ago
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okay this might be long/overly detailed so apologies in advance BUT! yuki with childhood best friend!reader. now reader has ALWAYS liked yuki, and its only gotten worse as he got into f1 and started performing as well as he does but they assume yuki doesn't see them that way. yuki, meanwhile, is rlly protective of reader and isnt sure why until pierre takes matters into his own hands and flirts with reader and all of a sudden yuki is like. "fuck".
umm yeh. happy, get togethery ending wud be nice :P
-bear <3
YES BEAR OMG I LOVE THIS
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yuki tsunoda x childhood best friend!male!reader
synopsis: you two grew up together, spending every minute of free time together. you raced each other in karting but you decided to choose mechanics rather than racing. still, you two were close. it isn't until pierre flirts with you that yuki realizes just how down bad he is.
author's note: more yuki content bc i love him so so much and thank you bear for the amazing request!!! i got carried away and now this is super long so i hope you guys like it! as always, feel free to request!
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you've known yuki for as long as you can remember
you used to go to the karting track and race each other
you won a handful of times but yuki was just better at it
you didn't care though because you were having fun with him
after a while, you stopped karting but continued to go to the tracks to support him
you guys always went everywhere together
if your family went on vacation, yuki was there
if the tsunodas went on vacation, you were there
if one was absent from school, your teachers would ask where the other was
skip forward to when yuki moves to europe to join the early formula series
you moved with him but in persuit of a mechanics degree
you guys still were incredibly close
you guys lived together and spent as much time as you guys could together
you visited some of his races when you weren't studying for tests
by the time he joins alpha tauri, you had gotten your degree
you were working small jobs here and there until you got a job also with alpha tauri
meaning everyone had to deal with your guys obnoxious, lovesick, acts
especially pierre
he loves you guys but you're so annoying about it
its like you guys can't even tell you love each other
(news flash: you couldn't)
the first year yuki and pierre were teammates, pierre didn't really mind it all that much
in fact, he thought it was adorable
like if you were working on yuki's car and yuki was chatting it away with you
or when yuki got out of the car after a race and pierre catches you staring open mouthed at him
or when you guys post pictures together during the breaks
or when- well you get my point
anything you guys did, he found it precious
however, you did confide in pierre about your feelings towards yuki
so you two devised a plan
the second season of him and yuki being teammates rolls around and you two still aren't together he takes things into his own hands
you guys going to hang out at a cafe? pierre is coming with and flirting with you
yuki wants to go snowboarding? pierre already made plans with you
you go along with pierre because you trust your friend
yuki obviously grows annoyed that pierre is taking up all your time
he at first brushes it off but then he slowly realizes that he is incredibly jealous
it takes him a few weeks to realize
then he's all too aware
hes like "fucking hell"
from then he tries to keep all your attention
you and pierre joke about it after yuki is gone
slowly pierre backs off (all part of the plan)
yuki is incredibly happy about that
and he isn't even trying to hide it
he takes you out more and more
you guys slowly start to merge closets and rooms
then finally, you ask him to be your boyfriend
at the same time, he was asking you to be his boyfriend
that night, you both update pierre about it
hes probably more excited than you guys
hes like "finally i don't gotta deal with your pining"
you guys then announce it to the public because you couldn't contain it anymore
the team... isn't surprised at all
just like pierre, they are probably happier than you are
the fans are delighted
meaning a crap ton of edits
they love the mechanic x driver dynamic even more
of course there is hate but you two could care less
you were too busy having fun to care what anyone else thought
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TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)
@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile
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beesgobzzzing · 1 day ago
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Article translation
Hooja and Käärijä are performing together for the first time in the first semifinal of Melodifestivalen in Luleå. Maybe Hooja will be participating in Melodifestivalen for real in the future:
You never know, Hooja says. [Bees note: Their manager said in a podcast during the fall last year that they were not interested in competing in Melodifestivalen, so this is definitely a politicians answer.]
Among feather boas and pink sequins, dressed in their particular fur hats, baklavas and fleece jackets, Hooja and DJ Mårdhund has arrived in Luleå Energi Arena. [Bees note: Mårdis and myself has referenced this as Coop Arena before, and that used to be it's name. Like many arenas elsewhere, this one also takes it's name from their main sponsor, which changes every now and then.] They are debuting in Melodifestivalen. They do have someone who has a lot of experience from this setting with them - Finnish Eurovision favorite Käärijä. But they're not taking part in the actual competition.
Together they are here as an interval act in Melodifestivalen's first semi in Luleå, where they are performing their new song "San Francisco Boy".
The trio has taken a break in show preparations and sit down on some chairs by one of the arena entrances. Käärijä is not wearing a mask, but does wear sunglasses just like the duo from Gällivare.
You're a bit secretive, and I think it's fun to work with artists who don't only have the music but another level to it. You have nice clothes too, Käärijä says.
Outside the glass doors another masked artist, Fröken Snusk [Bees note: her artist name translates to Miss Dirty], appears and waves to her coworkers before she once again disappears into the darkness.
Why are you making a song together?
Why not? I listened to Hooja's music and thought "oh, Swedish music can sound like this". Of course in a positive way, Käärijä says and laughs.
He says it's not always easy to make music with other artists. But the collaboration with Hooja has been painless.
Everything went so quick from meeting for the first time until we had a finished song, DJ Mårdhund says.
It was destiny, Hooja adds.
(Text under the picture: Käärijä has watched Melodifestivalen at home in Finland and is happy that he gets to enter the stage in Sweden with Hooja. "Dreams can become true", DJ Mårdhund notes.)
That the song is called "San Francisco Boy" has nothing to do with anyone from the trio having been there.
We have seen San Francisco in pictures, very nice pictures in my opinion. They have a nice and big bridge, DJ Mårdhund says.
Maybe we should go there together and make "San Francisco Boy part 2", Käärijä says.
Käärijä competed for Finland in Eurovision in 2023 with the song "Cha Cha Cha". He came in second after Sweden and Loreen's song "Tattoo". Being in Melodifestivalen now is not something he minds.
It's fun, I love Loreen, and I like you too, Käärijä says and points at Hooja.
He won the audience vote in Eurovision and quickly became a fan favorite. Not least of all in Sweden, where his song climbed the charts. He wasn't quite prepared for the love from the Swedish audience.
There were a lot of Swedish people who wrote to me and said they liked my song. I didn't think Swedish people liked Finnish music, but it was really nice to see that the song charted so well in Sweden.
The trio has a very full schedule during these few days in Luleå. Hooja describes the whole event as "hullaballoo".
There are a lot of people running around but it's a fun show, he says.
Being the interval act together with Käärijä feels safe, according to the duo.
It feels good having you here, you've done this kind of thing before, Mårdis says and looks at Käärijä:
You're almost being a father figure for us.
But will being the interval act this year make Hooja want to compete for real in Melodifestivalen in the future?
You never know. We are not going to say: No, we would never do that. But we're not going to give a definite yes either, Hooja says.
Wow, what a politician's answer, DJ Mårdhund says.
Maybe I should get into politics instead, Hooja says.
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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 days ago
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Could you do a part 3 to last christmas where reader starts spending a lot of time with a new guy (maybe a coworker of hers) and then they go on a date and Steve finds out and gets really jealous and then regrets rejecting her and then you can choose how it ends. Thank you!
(some actions may seem ooc but it’s because i’m not focused too much on that for this. it’s more my brain talking as three people)
“why does this new guy need a month of training? it’s ice cream scooping, he can’t be that stupid.” steve grumbled as he counted the till while robin locked the store doors.
“might have something to do with our lovely y/n, their soul has captivated the young man. i mean i see them giggling and being a bit touchy, think they’re both feeling each other.” robin worked on cleaning up the ice cream counter, shutting all the metal tops.
steve’s hands stopped their counting of ones and his face scrunched at his friends words, “no way. he seems awkward as hell, bet he’s secretly a douchebag. dylan the douchebag rings a bell.” mumbling to himself.
robin’s scuff bounced off the walls, “yeah, that baby face of his really gives off that impression. compared to you and him, it’s pretty obvious who was the actual douchebag in their life.”
“come on, you’re supposed to be on my side here.”
“your side of what? a jealousy of y/n turning their attention to someone other guy? news flash sailor, you turned them away.” and steve was momentarily stunned by the harshness in robin’s voice, and the strong furrow of her brows.
steve licked his lips as he locked the register, “i- i know, but i still care about them and their feelings. i don’t want them getting their hopes up… again.”
robin was silent as she worked on stacking up the chairs then blurted, “i wouldn’t worry about that. they’re going on a date next thrusday.”
steve’s legs gave out for a moment, “a date? already?” he had to clear his throat when he heard how pitched it came out, “and- and you’re okay with that? we barely know the dude.”
robin came to your defense, “actually i’ve know dylan for a year, we take band together. and i was the one who put in a good word for him.” she strode her legs so she was standing directly in front of steve, “if i’m supposed to ‘choose sides’, it’s always gonna be theirs. so i’m not really sorry that you feel this way, harrington, but you’ve made your bed time to lie in it.”
-
“he’s gonna take me to benny’s for lunch and then we’re gonna head over to palace arcade for a bit. says he determined to win me a stuffed animal.” fingers tapping atop the back room table, a smile tugging the corners of your lips.
“you gonna beat his ass at black widow?” robin teased. you scoffed, “of course, told him i’m not going easy on any games. and he took the challenge happily.”
“he’s a good sport, doesn’t take anything too seriously.” robin commented just as steve pushed open the swinging doors, “hey robs, i need my fifteen.”
“but you al-“ “robin, please.” steve widened his eyes slight, the break seeming urgent to him. she just rolled her eyes and breezed past him. you didn’t say anything when steve sat across from you and you were planning to make a leave when he spoke up, “going on a date i heard.”
you kisses your teeth, “uh yeah. a chill one, dylan was real nice about it. called it a date then redirected to saying hang out but i stood by calling it a date. he smiled and it made my chest warm, knew i made a good decision.” ducking your head so you could hide your warm cheeks and soft smile, your heart speeding up at the memory.
“listen, y/n, i just- i wanted to…” steve was waving his hands around as he kept speaking then stopping to find his words. you watched him with careful eyes, “as you’re friend i don’t think you should rush into this. you hardly know the guy.”
a slow nod of your heard, “that’s true… but we’re gonna be in public settings if you’re worried about me getting murdered or something. plus i still have my stupid curfew, so it’s more of a lunch date anyway.”
steve rolled his eyes, “no i mean- what did you see in this guy for you to latch onto him so quickly? i mean you’ve had a crush on me for a while, but what’s so special about dylan?” his arms crossed over his chested aggressively with a downward frown.
your brows pitched down, “are- are you fucking jealous? steve you have no right to be jealous or anything like that in this situation, you rejected me. i grieved that pain and now i’ve found someone who’s willing to give me a chance.”
“well maybe i don’t want you to give someone else a chance.” you scoffed at his childish words, “what if i said i want to be that someone?”
you stood from the chair, practically knocking it over in your haste. “fuck you steve. you’re such a fucking asshole.” storming from the ice cream parlor with fire at your heels.
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differenteagletragedy · 2 days ago
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In which Soap's significant other/spouse dies unexpectedly :(
“Aren’t you afraid of dying?”
It was a question Johnny had been asked countless times over the years: in hushed, anxious tones by his mother in visits home, when she still held onto hopes that her son would pick a safer life, and in slurred, almost voyeuristic voices from girls he’d pick up in bars.
And the answer was always no. An easy, thoughtless no, because he wasn’t, not really.
Now, as he stands in front of the mirror of the bedroom you used to share until you were taken from him, he realizes why.
The hard part isn’t in dying. If something were to happen to him on the field, it would likely be quick — a gunshot, an explosion, with no time to think about what it would mean to no longer exist. And even if his last moments were drawn out, there would be an ending to it in sight. A clear cap on whatever suffering there would be.
No, the hard part wasn’t in the idea of leaving this world. It was in being left.
Johnny takes a breath, tugging up the pants of his dress uniform -- the only nice clothes he had, and the ones he'd wear to bury you.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, and the weight of that knowledge threated to drag him down, so hard and heavy that he wasn't sure he'd be able to carry it. After he fell in love with you, really let himself fall and feel it, it broke his heart to know that someday he might die on you. Thoughts of your sweet, beautiful face, crumped and lined with tears when someone told you he'd never be coming home would flicker in his mind during missions sometimes, always unwelcome. They haunted him.
It never even crossed his mind that he'd be the one on the other side.
He shrugs on his jacket, lines still crisp from when he'd hung it up in the back of the closet after moving in with you, and quickly does up the buttons and tugs it into place. He looks at his reflection, but it's all wrong. Who gives a fuck about medals and ribbons and how nicely the seams are pressed when he's never going to hear your laugh again?
But it's not just that, the awkward formality of it all -- his eyes come up to his hair, too. He's always liked the mohawk (obviously he has, or he wouldn't have kept it this long), but seeing it now feels almost shameful in a way that doesn't necessarily make sense but still burns.
He's in the bathroom, decked out his dress blues with clumps of dark hair lining the sink, when Simon comes in.
Johnny barely remembers this -- some plans made at some point in the last week for Simon to come help him with everything. Did he give him a key, has he been locking the door? Ever since he got the news, things have been happening in waves of clarity and a strange foggy dissonance, so he can't be sure what's real, or if it matters.
The deep, familiar tone of Simon's voice as he says his name though ... that feels real. The feeling of his fingers brushing against his chest as he unbuttons his jacket and carefully dusts it off, countless tiny hairs falling to the floor, that's crystal clear.
Johnny's own voice sounds further away, a rush of words coming out that barely registers in his mind. "Feels like a fucking joke," he tells Simon, but what he's talking about, he's not exactly sure.
Simon tells him a number of things, rattling them off in clipped, calm sentences, enough to start to push through the fog, and he doesn't fight it when he takes the clippers from his hand and spins him around, saying something about cleaning him up.
"Just get through the day," his lieutenant tells him over the buzzing. It almost sounds like an order, and Johnny, ever the good soldier, gives an affirmative hum, like it's possible.
When Simon finishes with the clippers, he grabs Johnny's jacket again, holding it out for him to put back on, and when he does, he rebuttons it for him. He systematically goes over the insignia, strong, steady hands making sure everything is in order, and Johnny could almost weep at the small relief of not having to worry about one more thing.
But more than that, Simon's hands feel like an anchor, like a tangible weight holding him to now. There's warmth radiating from his body, and it's not like yours -- he doesn't think he'll ever be able to find a warmth like yours again -- but it's there. It's something, and after days of wallowing in your empty home, smelling your pillow and cradling your clothes and letting himself cry in a way that he hasn't since he was a child, it's a hell of a lot better than nothing.
"You ready?"
Simon's words are phrased like a question, but Johnny picks up on the tone -- another order. It's time.
And he's not ready, not even close. His stomach turns at the thought of seeing your lifeless body laid out in a casket in clothes he picked, and everything in him is screaming, telling him to run, far and fast and hard, from all of this.
But, as always, he's been hardwired to obey his superiors. So instead, he nods.
The funeral is unbearable, but somehow, Johnny bears it. And later, when the grief has settled into an old achy wound instead of bared nerves burning, he'll know that it was because of Simon. Because of his presence beside him, an occasional hand on his shoulder, calloused and sure, that kept him tethered to him when all he wanted to do was float away.
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bombiikki · 10 hours ago
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𐙚⋆.˚ ────  almost forgot something! °。⋆⸜
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ – non idol!danielle x fem!reader !!
synopsis: you and danielle have been friends for years now, and everyone around you swears there’s romantic tension between the two of you. the love in the air is very real and you two fools just need to kiss already
contains:fluff, both danielle and y/n r oblivious, twotolz being really invested in them, like more than catnipz, hanni has rizz (according to reader), i wrote this half dead, not proofread, kiss???, highschool setting
a/n: sighs this was lazily done and i literally couldve done better but im stcuk so this will suffice like i shouldve scrapped but im positng this anyways! also remember when i said i would write in present tense? I LIED.. past tense it is ig!
♪ ༘⋆ now playing – kiss her you fool by kids that fly
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for as long as anyone could remember, you and danielle were attached at the hip, the bestest of friends. wherever you went, she followed and vice versa. danielle was your best friend, as you were hers. there was nothing more to your friendship, until there was.
a few months ago, you had the sudden realisation that you always wanted to be by danielle’s side. that wasn’t brand news to you, but the feelings behind it was the sudden realisation. you found yourself fawning over your friend, noticing how your heart would race around her. however, this sudden realisation wasn’t very sudden to your friends.
“so, you like dani?” minji tried confirming with you for the nth time, the others chuckling in the back. 
“honestly, i’m surprised it took you this long to figure that out,” hanni sneered.
it seemed your group of friends had clearly anticipated the moment you confessed your crush on danielle to them. and, it seemed they had a mission to utterly humiliate you as they fed you delusions.
“she literally likes you back. just ask her out already before we all rip out our eyeballs,” hyein insisted and you swore you even saw her eye twitch. “watching this slow burn literally burns,” haerin continued.
you were never convinced. danielle was just nice like that! so what if she held your hand to class, she was just a touchy gal!
“SHE CLEARLY LIKES YOU BACK! KISS HER ALREADY YOU IMBECILE,” hyein would scream into your face, shaking you by the shoulders.
and every time they would spit this nonsense in your face, you would end up rolling your eyes with a small “whatever.”
as the bell went at the end of school, you found yourself walking out of class with danielle by your side. the both of you had just been paired up for a project and danielle was already pouring ideas out onto you.
“so, where do you want to do the project?” danielle asked. “definitely at your place. you always have the best stashes of snacks,” you grinned. danielle rolled her eyes. “only coming over for the snacks? that’s real rude of you y/n,” she chuckled teasingly.
you continued to joke with danielle before saying goodbye at the school entrance.
“i’ll come over in about an hour. i gotta wash up ‘cause i am tired as hell,” you exhaled.
danielle looked into your eyes and all you could do was get lost in them. the way her eyes lit up like fireworks made something squirm in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if this was a good feeling. looking into her eyes made you feel so safe and so… loved. sometimes, it hurt knowing she only saw you as a friend.
you took a step back, knowing if you kept staring into her eyes you might get lost for real. danielle waved goodbye as you walked away. she smiled brightly as you waved back. 
“i’ll save you your favourites!”
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both you and dani were spread out across her bed. you were getting extra comfortable, lying on the mattress with your favourite chips on the side. you made sure to not get crumbs on the bed as you watched dani furrowed her brows with whatever she had in front of her.
“you know, if we fail, i’m so blaming you,” you casually joked, watching dani raise her head and flinch back in betrayal.
“excuse me! i’m the one doing all the work right now. you’re just here for the snacks.” danielle pouted.
you grinned back at her as you sat up. “hey, i am not here just for the snacks. plus, you’d be lost without me.” 
“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” danielle mumbled back. “it does help me sleep at night, thank you very much!”
you both started giggling. it always felt nice to spend time with danielle. listening to her giggle was like feeling the warmth of the sun on a clear day.
the two of you continued to chuckle between yourselves before danielle furrowed her brows once more. 
“hey, y/n? could you help me with this question? i’m sort of stuck,” she asked you. 
you looked at the question she was pointing at before getting up from the bed.
“i’ll just go wash my fingers first. don’t want to hand back the question sheet with chip dust all over it,” you said swiftly. you heard danielle chuckle to herself as you went to the bathroom. 
you’ve been over to danielle’s house so many times, it feels like a second home. everything about danielle is so comforting and it makes you feel warm inside. you hoped that maybe you could always be by her side, to comfort her as she comforts you.
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“so, y/n, how was sleeping over at dani’s place?” hyein inquired, raising her eyebrows. 
“how’d you know about that?” you asked, as someone came over to grab your arm. you already knew who decided to wrap their arms around your own, yet you looked anyway.
danielle looked right into your eyes, the space between the two of you was nearly non-existent. you watched her eyes as they looked into your own then.. to your lips? you weren’t sure if you were seeing what was right in front of you correctly. danielle was the first to break eye contact.
“how’d you know about what?” danielle asked, smiling at hyein.
“no. no no. what was that?” minji interjected out of nowhere, pointing at you and dani. “what was what?” you laughed nervously. was it hot? it seems to be getting even hotter here.
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minji just hummed, slowly nodding her head but watching you and danielle with a stink eye. you rolled your eyes in response as you recognised both hanni and haerin walking towards the group. they were both snickering between each other, looking at something on hanni’s phone.
it was when they both looked at you with grins that you knew it wasn’t anything good. 
“a little birdie dropped a photo of you last night y/n!” hanni snickered, showing you a photo of yourself sprawled out on danielle’s bed. you were lying on top of some papers and still had a pen in hand. 
you felt danielle let go of your arm as haerin chuckled on the side. you suddenly missed the warmth at your side and so you turned your head sharply towards danielle as she looked away quickly, pretending to look busy. she had her hand behind her neck, avoiding all eye contact with you but she was wearing this big smile on her face.
“has the school lawn always looked so green?”
you flicked at danielle’s temple, watching her poke out her tongue in a smile. you watched her with a smile as the morning sun hit her face at the right angle. she looked so beautiful. you knew there were four pairs of eyes eyeing both you and danielle intensely, but that didn’t stop you from admiring your friend.
hyein suddenly wrapped her arms around both your and danielle’s shoulders. 
“okay! now, you may kiss the bride!” she exclaimed, leaving both you and danielle startled and flushed.
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you and danielle sat side by side, surrounded by books. this time around, you both decided to work in the library.
“ok, so, i think for the project we should set it up like this,” danielle explained, showing you examples on her laptop while jotting some notes down in a notebook. you nodded in agreement, giving danielle some of your own notes and ideas.
the two of you work well together, as if you both shared the same brain. you both fed each other ideas and ran with it. it was natural for the two of you, being able to connect and then lock in.
danielle put her pen down to type something on her computer, you writing something down in the meantime. as danielle went to reach for her pen again, she accidentally knocked it down. you noticed the pen fall from your peripheral vision and so went down to reach for it. danielle went to grab her pen as well, her hand colliding with yours for a brief moment. 
you both freeze. you’ve touched hands before, even held hands. so why was this any different? touching her hand sent a shock through your body—traveling from your hand all the way up your spine. 
you turned your head to look at danielle before taking back your hand, letting her pick up her pen.
“um, sorry,” you muttered, holding your hand. danielle flashed you a smile before reassuring you that it’s fine.
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you were lying down on a patch of grass, looking up to the clear skies above you. you could hear minji and hanni bickering about something, but you didn’t pay much attention to it. all you knew was that danielle wasn’t here, she was stuck in one of her classes and so you were left missing her during lunch.
“so, what are you gonna do?” hyein said, poking at your shoulder. “do about what?” “you know, your big crush on dani!” you quickly sat up to cover her mouth, looking around cautiously before you took your hand off her mouth.
hyein looked at you with a pout as you glared at her.
“no ‘cause i agree with hyein. when are you going to make a move?” haerin interjected. you opened up your mouth to say something, before closing it momentarily.
“she’s just a friend,” you said with a nod. 
you watched as hanni and minji slowly stopped bickering, opening their ears to your conversation.
“that’s exactly what adrien said about marinette, now look at them,” hanni exclaimed, pointing her finger at you. 
“who?”
“the dumb blonde and the blue haired girl from miraculous ladybug.”
“ooohh..”
“no, seriously though. do you plan on making a move?” hanni asked curiously. you looked at her and shrugged your shoulders.
“i mean, i think i’m just gonna wait this out,” you reply with a heavy sigh.
“excuses i hear,” hyein continued to pout. you smacked her arm with a frown. “hey, i’m just sayin’! she’s probably thinking the same as you! you could totally make a move and get her hand in marriage or whatever,” hyein smiled.
“man, you gotta start respecting your elders,” you snorted while poking hyein aggressively, making her squirm and giggle. “what do i even say if i hypothetically ask her out?” you questioned.
minji raised her finger as if a light bulb went off in her head. “you could tell her you think she’s cool!” she said confidently. “that i think she’s cool?” “yep!” “that’s a stupid idea.” “now look at who's talking about respecting their elders.”
“y/n!” you heard a familiar voice yell out. you turned to look at danielle running towards you and the others. “what are you guys talking about?” danielle beamed, immediately sitting next to you and holding onto your arm.
“nothing important, it’s ok,” you said in response, earning a few judgey glances from the others.
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you sat quietly in danielle’s bedroom once more. this time, you were very awake and you made sure not to fall asleep on the papers again. maybe it was just you, but you could feel this tension rising between you and danielle, and it freaked you out. you weren’t sure when it started, but suddenly the two of you have been more awkward around each other.
you raise your head from your notes to look at danielle, noticing that she was already looking at you with such concentration you couldn’t describe in words. she quickly glanced away when you made eye contact with her, a slight pink tinting her cheeks.
you both continued to work in silence for the next hour before you decided that this was enough work for today. you got up from the bed as danielle walked you down to the front door.
you opened the front door before turning back to face danielle. you looked into her eyes, and there was something behind those eyes you couldn’t quite make out. danielle was looking at you with eyes so soft. it seemed so affectionate, and it pierced your heart.
“what is it? do i have something on my face?” you chuckled nervously. danielle was in such a trance, it was almost like she didn’t hear the words that came out of your lips.
“huh? oh, no you don’t have anything on your face. i just.. i was thinking of how well we’re doing on the project!” danielle said hesitantly, flashing a bright smile. 
you smiled back before pressing your lips together and walking out the front door. you turned back to look at danielle and waved goodbye before walking off.
you heard the door to danielle’s house close, before you went to fumble your phone out of your bag. you scrolled through your contacts before calling hanni.
“y/n?” she said in concern.
“i need help! i don’t know what happened but there was something in the air and i fear i may have fumbled..” you said all in one go. you let out a big sigh before continuing. “i think i messed up a chance there, hanni.”
“dude, if you don’t call her and tell her you forgot something i might jump you. take your chance,  mate,” hanni advised.
you felt your world stop, not hearing another word that came out of your phone. you? take your chance? with danielle? you know you had just called hanni to tell her that you messed up your chance, but it was still nerve wracking to think about making a move.
“y/n? hello? are you ok?” hanni asked with a lace of concern in her voice.
“do you think i have a chance?” you asked hesitantly.
“yes, you do. now go kiss her or whatever,” you heard her chuckle through the phone. “wait, before you do, why’d you call me? do i just have an overwhelming amount of rizz?” she snorted.
“don’t tell the other’s i said this, but yes,” you chuckle. you could hear hanni smile through the phone before she ushered you to go and call danielle.
the phone rang with danielle’s name on the screen.
“hello? y/n? what’s up?” you heard her say, her voice like honey in your ears.
“hey, dani! i, um, i think i forgot something at your place. could you wait for me at the front?” you asked softly. 
when danielle gave you the affirmative, you turned on your heel and began to run towards danielle’s house. you ran up to the gate of her house before coming face to face with her.
“so, what did you forget that you had to run back here?” danielle chuckled.
you didn’t say anything, only looked into her eyes as you tried regaining your breath. you inhaled a big whiff of air before exhaling, danielle now looking at you with concern.
“y/n, are you feeling ok?” she questioned.
you gave her a big nod before speaking. “i just.. i almost forgot something important!” you smiled.
you swiftly brought your hands to cradle danielle’s face, and you felt her lean ever so slightly into your touch. you quickly left a kiss on her cheek, watching her eyes widen as her cheeks began to flush. you could feel your own cheeks grow warm as you let go of danielle’s face. you stepped back onto your heel.
“um, bye dani! see you.. later!!” you blurted before dashing off.
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hanni
hanni sooo how was it? y/n HORRIBLE I KISSED HER ON THE CHEEK hanniWHAT y/n THEN I RAN AWAY 😭 did i fumble yes or no hanni noooo i mean it could turn out ok! how did she react? y/n… i dont rememerb… hanni U FUMBLER 💀 y/n wait sm1s at the door brb
you walked through your house and towards your front door, opening it to reveal a very familiar face.
“danielle! um, what—what are you doing here?” you stuttered. you watched as danielle heaved and heaved, clearly catching her breath.
did she run to your house? why would she do that? did she run to you to reject you? different thoughts continued to race through your mind before danielle began to smile.
“i, um, i almost forgot something!” she beamed before rising to her toes.
danielle held cradled your face like you did before to her. you could feel her breath on your lips.
“we’re both such forgetful people,” you murmur. you heard danielle hum in agreement before she closed the space between the both of you.
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