#He has an astonishing side profile

[nobigneil]

[2hightocare]

COFFEE!

“I think I'm past obsessed at this point, there has to be another word in the dictionary that tops obsessed.”

Synopsis: in which a hopeless romantic falls in love with the man of her dreams…

Pairings: boyfriend!jeongguk x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship.. non idol au

Warnings: literally the most sappy thing I could have possibly written, was listening to ‘coffee’ by miguel while writing, they’re such a gentle love, reader is a book worm, Jungkook likes drawing (doodling) plus points when his drawings are about oc, mentions of their first time having sex, usage of book quotes (read nltm, had to use the mia and sebastian line for my own sanity) <3333333

authors note: this is so simple but my book worm hopeless romantic needed this.. wrote this while high so nothing new 🤍

They say falling in love is the most beautiful feeling in the world.

You couldn’t explain the immediate sensation, the feeling that spreads throughout your chest as if you were a black-and-white picture that suddenly starts to fill with vibrant colors anytime his eyes lock with yours.

It was astonishing how the universe works—the idea that you are destined for someone ever since you are born, and that all the hardships along the way shape you into the person you need to be to meet them.

Your heartbeat thumped loudly in your ears as you watched him laugh from across the room, an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans covering his lean, muscular figure—one you’d memorized to the tiniest detail. You knew every freckle and scar. His head was thrown back, arms crossed, as he paid attention to whatever the guy in front of him was saying.

You scrunched your nose, using your index finger to push your glasses up as you studied your boyfriend from afar. You weren’t sure whether to call it pathetic or endearing, the way you noticed every little crease on his forehead and the way he toyed with his bottom lip absentmindedly. You even took note of his long eyelashes, and nearly died of jealousy every time you counted them when he slept beside you.

It was gut-wrenching to imagine anyone else feeling about him the way you did. The thought alone made you want to puke in the nearest trash can.

You were lovesick for this man, and you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks whenever you looked at him or heard his laugh. Not only did you want to scream and freak out over every little thing he did, but he also had you daydreaming constantly. You found yourself thinking of silly song lyrics that resonated with how you felt about him. Staring at his side profile, you finally understood the meaning behind Suki Waterhouse’s lyrics: “Oh, my good looking boy,” echoed in your mind.

Before you could form another lyric or recall a favorite book quote to describe your feelings, his eyes found yours. A small smile tugged at his lips as his gaze scanned your expressions, reading you as if you were an open book. You smiled, tilting your head to the side, trying to hide the makeshift fireworks going off in your tummy.

His gaze softened, and it made your breath waver. You had never understood the meaning of “his gaze softened” in books, but now, you understood every syllable of those words after experiencing it firsthand.

You honestly couldn’t think of a single thing you didn’t love about him. You loved everything about him, even the parts he claimed were too “broken” or “damaged” to be loved.

A few seconds passed before he finally said his goodbyes and began making his way back to you. Your eyes followed every step, catching the grin he wore.

“I don’t know, I pretty much think you’re obsessed with me,” your boyfriend teased, his straight teeth on full display as he stopped in front of you, looking down at you on the couch.

“In your dreams.” You laughed, craning your neck to look up at him.

Instead of getting mad, he let out a low chuckle, leaning down with both arms on either side of the couch, caging you in.

“Every night, baby.” He whispered softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before moving to your cheek, delivering another soft kiss. You sighed in contentment as his lips ghosted over your skin, the pet name making your head feel dizzy.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before standing up straight again, looking down at you. Your eyelids felt heavy as you looked up at him through your lashes. He was already smiling, and you didn’t even need to ask “what?”—you already knew. Anyone in their right mind could tell how obsessed you were with him, and it was no surprise to him either.

As you both walked out of the bookstore, carrying a bag full of psychological and romance books (and, of course, the box of transparent sticky notes Jungkook got for you to annotate your books without writing on the actual pages), it was clear this was one of his favorite things to do. In his free time, when he wasn’t working or with you, he loved opening one of your books and reading your thoughts scribbled in the margins. Half of his camera roll was pictures of you, but the other half was just pictures of your annotations, scribbles, and drawings.

It was as if he was inside your mind, reading every thought, and he loved it.

He could still recall the first book he opened that sent his heart racing, like a teenage boy with a crush.

“I couldn’t see him, but his laugh was unmistakable. I could close my eyes and be in so many places with that laugh. That laugh was the cohesive thread, the little recurring melody that showed up in so many scenes of my life, like Mia and Sebastian’s theme in La La Land. Always there, playing in the background.”

Those words were highlighted in the prettiest shade of pink, with two small hearts drawn beside them. But it was your handwriting at the bottom that got him: “The feeling I’ve been trying to put into words about how I feel every time I look at him has just been done for me, oh my.” He remembered feeling his heart stop for a second. And when it started again, it was for you—his heart was for you and only you.

That wasn’t all. It had become one of your shared love languages. Jungkook started buying books he thought you’d like. He even asked your little sister what your favorite highlighters were so he could buy them for both of you.

Your heart did somersaults when you opened a book on his bedside table and saw a drawing—a pair of eyes in black ink, long lashes making them look bigger and more innocent. Your breath hitched as you noticed the small freckle just below the eyebrow, realizing it was you.

It didn’t help the overwhelming sensation of adoration when you saw his handwriting in the margins.

“You remembered?” she said softly.

“I remember every second of us.”

The text was underlined, and in small letters, he had written, “Gosh, she made me fall so hard that I’m reading sappy words and thinking ‘us’ out loud. #sendhelp,” with a frowning emoji next to the hashtag. Before you knew it, you were on page one, reading every single line and note he had left.

Also, the multiple drawings on the pages where there was extra space had your heart thumping hard in your chest. There were so many drawings— each one tied to you or him. It was impossible to describe every feeling surging through your chest, every emotion racing in your bloodstream, as your fingertips traced the drawing of you.

This time, it was an image of you on your back, lying on a bed. Only part of your side profile was visible, with your hair spilling across the bed, covering most of your back. At first, you didn't want to assume it was you he'd drawn-being self-centered wasn't your style. But it was impossible to deny it when he'd sketched every freckle, even the small half-moon tattoo on your shoulder blade, matching the real one inked on your skin.

You smiled at the memory but snapped back to the present as your boyfriend instinctively switched you to the other side of the sidewalk when you two turned toward Target. You held tight to his index finger as he squeezed between people, leading you behind him with a soft "excuse me" to anyone in the way.

Automatically, you found yourself smiling as you picked up your pace to match his longer strides. He pulled you in closer, his arm snaking around your waist, his hand resting over your belly—a little lower than usual, sending butterflies flitting wildly in your stomach. You suppressed a shiver as he gently guided you to the side, allowing an older couple to pass by.

"Us when we're eighty, baby," Jungkook leaned down and whispered into your ear, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. His smile only widened at your reaction.

"Won't be us if you keep watching Young Sheldon without me," you pouted, giving him a playful glare, which only made him smile more.

"Why are you smiling?" you asked, maybe even whining a little as you walked into the store and heard the employee greet you both.

"Because you're so beautiful, and my brain goes in circles when I stare at you," he shrugged casually, giving your waist a small squeeze before untangling his arm to grab a cart.

You tried so hard not to melt, holding onto his bicep as he leaned forward on the cart, making him closer to your height.

"Don't know it you're down, but l've been wanting to learn how to crochet," you said as you glanced around the aisles. Your boyfriend immediately started nodding excitedly.

"Baby, oh my god. I'm so down. We need to make those big-ass blankets," he rambled, looking at your face for a reaction, like a puppy with its ears perked up and tail wagging.

"I think that's knitting, baby," you corrected him, smiling as his eyebrows raised before he let out a small laugh.

"Wait, are those two not the same thing?" His dimple deepened as he bit his lower lip, stopping in front of the craft aisle.

"I actually have no clue," you admitted with a chuckle, raising an eyebrow. "But I know you can crochet a blanket because you once told me about those pattern blocks you saw on your explore page.”

Jungkook's gaze softened as he made eye contact with you, his pupils dilated with so much adoration that it made your heart swell.

"And I remember because I searched them on TikTok to see what you were talking about. I saw people connecting them into blankets. Also, I remember you pretending to sleep so you didn't have to scratch my back anymore-before my one minute was up. You swear you're slick, but I know when you're really asleep," he said with a grin, teasingly biting your cheek as you tried not to smile.

"How do you know I'm not sleeping?" you teased, and he chuckled, ghosting his lips over yours.

"Because every time you fall asleep, you make this little sound, and then slowly, you start snoring," he laughed, watching your cheeks turn a shade of red before burying his laughing face in the crook of your neck.

To be loved is to be seen.

That phrase had never felt more accurate. No one else had ever seen you the way Jungkook did. He knew you so well, down to the tiniest details that sometimes even surprised you.

Your eyes practically turned into hearts as Jungkook kissed your neck innocently before turning his attention to the yarns.

This was the kind of love you had always dreamed of

-better than the movies or books. Nothing could top the overwhelming feelings of gratitude, love, and appreciation that coursed through your body whenever you looked at him. Your brain practically played the instrumental of "Video Games" by Lana Del Rey whenever you spent time with him.

It was as if even a natural disaster couldn't faze you

-so long as you could experience it with him.

The connection between you two was beyond what you ever imagined existed in real life. It felt like something out of a fairy tale. From the moment you locked eyes with him across the room, you both knew there was no turning back.

After checking out and getting to Jungkook's car, he opened the door for you, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before putting the bags in the back.

Once he climbed into the driver's seat, his hand instinctively found its place on your thigh after starting the car. His thumb rubbed your bare skin, sending sparks flying through your body. It was such a natural gesture for him, but the butterflies never ceased. You bit your lip, trying not to whine when his hand moved closer to your inner thigh.

As he softly sang along to "Creep" by Radiohead, it was just another thing you'd become morally obsessed with-his voice. You had always known he could sing, but everything changed the night you were first intimate.

It was as if your entire perspective on love and sex shifted. Simply calling it "sex" seemed absurd now, because it was so much more. Everything felt heightened, more intense, making your heart pound wildly in your chest.

"F-fuck, baby..." he whimpered into your ear, his hips moving slowly into yours, leaving your mouth hanging open.

His little groans and moans made you dizzy, like notes of a lullaby. The feeling of skin against skin was the most addicting sensation, made even more special by the way he always checked in on you.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. Am I being too rough, baby?" His voice was strained as his hips halted, his breath heavy as he moved your hair to kiss your neck.

He resumed slowly, making your legs shake and grip the sheets, and you couldn't help but moan, asking for more. His chuckle against your skin was the same one you’d hear when he rested his head on your stomach, expecting you to scratch his back or read to him.

"You're sweaty," you pouted at him, both of you basking in the afterglow.

"I know. Do you still want me?" He smiled, mimicking your expression before pulling the covers over both your naked bodies and pulling you in as close as possible.

"Yes, I'll forever want you," you replied, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, savoring the warmth he radiated.

As sleepiness began to overtake you, you felt his fingertips tracing letters and shapes on your hip.

Just before drifting off, he began singing again. It was like entering another universe where only you and he existed

"I want you to notice," he sang softly, "when I'm not around."

"So fucking special... I wish I was special." He pressed a kiss to your temple, the sound of his voice and your matching heartbeats lulling you both to sleep.

You snapped back to reality when the car stopped at a red light.

"Is it bad that I always hope to get red lights so I can kiss you?" he asked, flashing a grin that had you laughing.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his as his eyes fluttered shut, his finger lifting your chin gently.

"Not bad, but a little weird. You want to spend so much time with me," you teased, pulling back to your seat. "Some might even think you're pretty obsessed."

"I'm past obsessed at this point. There's got to be another word that tops it," he admitted, stealing another kiss just before the light turned green.

As you gazed at him, you couldn't help but wish there was another word, stronger than "love," to describe how you felt about him.

[thephantomsdream]

Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.

In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.

What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.

The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.

God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.

It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.

"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.

Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.

"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.

That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.

You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.

You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.

His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.

Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.

I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.

[nouearth]

the boy next door.

pairing. alan ritchson x male reader headcanon.

summary. with his profile brewing in hollywood, projects are consistently lining up for alan, and the last thing he needs is a new roommate getting in the way of his stress. unless, reader finds himself becoming alan's personal stress-ball?

content warning. camboy!au, camboy!reader, top!alan, bottom!reader, food!play (cucumber as dildo), muscle worship, size difference, spitting, oral (r!giving on dildo), dirty talk, verbal, masturbation, alan and reader are roommates.

moving in.

roommate!alan who surprises you with his massive stature when he greets you on move-in day.

it was jaw-dropping. well, almost so. you were luckily aware enough to catch the slack of your jaw from relaxing any further. any second longer, and you would've been hypnotized into submission by the man's brawn physicality; massive chest, bulging arms, and thick fingers—traits you would find yourself drooling about.

"hey, uh... (m/n), right? is that how you say your last name?" "spot on! and... alan. man, your name already sounds like a celebrity, i'm jealous." "haha, hopefully the casting directors feel the same way."

roommate!alan who helps you with your luggages without a single request from your end.

aside from being eye-candy, alan utilized his muscles for the greater good and brought your belongings from the trunk of your car, to the front of your door in a matter of minutes. even when you pleaded him not to, he went on ahead while urging you to take a rest after the long drive across the city.

you complained, though half-heartedly because your ass was sore from driving all day. his massive arms were a distraction as the veins surged through every muscle of fiber like lightning.

"you really didn't need to do all of that—" "hey, you're saving me from shelling out an extra thousand by being my roommate. plus, you seem... normal? that's the least i could do." "normal? pft, i don't know about that. but i will say, your kind gestures have put you on my 'no-kill' list." "let's backpedal a bit. is it too late to kick you out?"

roommate!alan who has already taken a liking towards you in the few hours you two have spent together to unpack.

saying that people 'stared' at alan would be underplaying what they've actually done. it was a daily occurrence to catch people gawking at his stature. whether it was with astonishment, intimidation, lust, or hostility, all eyes were on him, collective eyes and gasps piecing together how a man could look the way he does. some whispered 'steroids', others envied his dedication.

as uncomfortable as it could be at times, he liked the attention knowing he'd be the subject of one's conversation to another friend.

with you, it was no different. he'd caught you several times staring at his arms from across the room. or maybe it was his shoulders? how they perfectly filled his shirt out from seam to seam? either way, you were enchanted, especially when he'd nonchalantly flex his muscles every now and then in hopes he'd catch your eye.

and he could say the same about himself when he'd catch you bent over, ass raised high while you dug inside of your boxes to unpack the remaining decor you had brought with you.

until that moment, he never noticed how much smaller you were compared to his, the top of your head barely meeting his chin if he was to line you up. how much of a desire had awakened to have you in his arms, just to see how you perfectly fit into his body.

getting to know each other.

roommate!alan who has already learned of your habits, likes and dislikes, and hobbies within a few weeks of you moving in.

it was the small stuff that you found yourself gushing over. you two almost always had dinner together on the couch. condiments on the side for you, ketchup over his fries for him.

whether it was homemade or takeout, the best memories being made between the two of you were simply eating in front of the tv and watching alan's roles despite his reluctance.

you would cheer whenever he appeared on the screen, the camera somehow making him seem smaller than he appeared to be in real life. it was impressive, and once again, you found yourself drawn to the sheer size of muscles beside you.

throbbing, even at the simplest touch, as he gave your shoulders squeeze amidst passing by you to collect your plate.

"have to head to bed early. got an audition in the morning." "awesome! was this the one you were telling me about earlier?""yep. i worked with the director once, so fingers crossed?"

roommate!alan who can read your body language early on, and senses that you're hiding something from him.

it was that one question that either turned you into stone, or a babbling buffoon as you would try to avoid the subject.

your occupation.

he didn't know much other than the fact that you worked from home, which was why your bedroom was so intricately set up like a tech start-up.

four different types of cameras, a gaming chair, several monitors for one pc; it was intricate and honestly, alan didn't really understand it.

"so, you don't have to say yes or no, but..." "hm..?""are you a youtuber? like, one of those tech guys who reviews new phones and stuff?""something like that, i guess?" "is it mentally draining?" "more so... physically?"

roommate!alan who asks about your day after coming home from a shoot.

you looked exhausted, drained, wrecked—images of you that he never thought would rile him up. yet, as you groggily came out of your room with flushed skin, and a thirst that needed to be quenched, alan was equally parched just watching you recover your breath in between gulps of water.

cluttered state of mind.

roommate!alan who merely offers you a look of annoyance when you greet him after he arrives home.

you've recognized that look by now, and all you could simply provide was his dinner plate, and a sympathetic pat on the back.

"listen, i know a friend and he has a mutual that can help you—" "not in the mood right now, (m/n).""just trying to help, alan."

roommate!alan who ends the night early, leaving you on the couch with his plate left untouched.

it was awkward, to simply put it. the show you put on happened to be the one he was auditioning for, and then ultimately flunked because he forgot his script. from the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tightening, straining, fork scraping against the ceramic plate as he pushed the fried rice in a corner, and then eastward, because that corner was empty.

though, is it wrong to say that you found it hot? if only there was a less forward and awkward way of saying, 'hey, i'd love to take your mind off of things right now. let me suck you off.'

secret unlocked.

stressed!alan who spends half-an-hour in the shower contemplating whether this career was worth it.

countless of potential roles never making it pass the call-back stage; he was growing exhausted from it. driving from city to city, filling his car with gas that would amount to nothing in the end. he could only stretch his royalties out for so much longer, and—

no, he wasn't a quitter. the last time he felt like this, the next audition was a success. if predictions are right, he'd consider this madness a sign of luck, at least for the meantime.

stressed!alan who needs something to take out his frustration on.

maybe he should head to the gym? no, he already showered. and it was already getting too late for his liking to drive back and forth at this time, even if he wasn't tired.

at the corner of his eye, his laptop glinted with a sparkle.

some good porn would fix him.

stressed!alan who has one hand down his sweats, and the other calmly scrolling through his favorite cam site.

his lips grew chapped, licking them from time to time as he watched the page load without the decency to sugar-coat its offerings. his sight was immediately assaulted with moving thumbnails of women, and men under the spell of their own lust. some squirmed from the uncontrollable feeling of being filled, while others preferred talking to their patrons, touching themselves to the pixelated smut sent through the chat.

stressed!alan who has you on his mind despite the options to choose from, and he squeezes his large balls in his hand.

the cursor maneuvered respectfully around one performer’s breasts and another’s erection in its journey to the filter list. the drop-down menu pulled open and alan checked off the men within his age range. 

with a quick load, the website refreshed with a new assortment of performers, and his cock began to sprout at the moving thumbnails. his hand immediately began to feed his growing bulge with gentle squeezes and rubs as he scrolled what seemed to be endless cycle of camboys.

the sudden warmth of his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin. alan removed each article within seconds, yet the flush of his skin remained, ached as it yearned for the physical touch of the seductive men beckoning him.

stressed!alan who felt the world had stopped. the heat frozen in his cheeks, his hands equally mirroring as he hovered over a familiar face. strained, orbs dilated and wandering, and holy shit—so fucking inviting.

it was you.

stressed!alan who watches your stream for a few minutes to decipher if it was truly you before shamelessly stroking his cock after he confirms that it was.

sweat dribbled over your neck and body in diverging streams. your legs were raised on their own accord, thick thighs shaking from the muscles working overdrive to keep you still and perfectly centered before your webcam.

stressed!alan who couldn't believe what he was seeing. it all made sense now, why you were so reluctant to tell what you truly did.

you were a fucking whore. a whore for the internet for everyone to goon to, to cum to. he can imagine it now, how much pleasure you'd given these men as he watched you fuck yourself with a cucumber.

and he was one of them. alan's large cock was manhandled by his hand, stroking sloppily with an ample amount of lube squeezed over the flesh of throbbing muscle.

all those memories of you looking so wrecked came fluttering in. you looked wrecked because you were fucking wrecked.

by a fucking cucumber.

and alan has never been so envious of a vegetable despite eating them on a daily.

you were plunging your tight hole with a long cucumber, slickly lubed from the condom over the girth of the green plant. with every push of your wrist, your legs caved into the pressure to set themselves down, but every time the crown of the plant pressed into your prostate, you were reminded of the viewers who had been donating, their pop-up messages urging you to keep them up 'like a good boy.'

stressed!alan who jerks himself off to the rhythm of your wrist.

every time you sank the thick cucumber inside of you, alan paced himself to match your tempo, plunging himself into his closed fist, mimicking your refusing hole by opening his fingers one-by-one, until he had fully breached through.

stressed!alan who mutters to himself, who mutters words that you couldn't hear because you were busy pleasuring yourself for hundreds of men watching you.

"fuck yeah, take that dick..." "too big for you?""fuck, we'll make it fit."

stressed!alan who imagines himself fucking into you.

he knew his cock was big. he'd been told countless of times, by men and women, and lots of time, they would quit a few minutes in because it was just too much.

but you, he was certain that you were able to take him. because—fuck—alan was bigger than that cucumber you were fucking yourself open with. it needed a glorious amount of lube, like what you had displayed before him, dripping heavily from your abused cavity, but luckily, you had experience in handling big sizes, right?

you'd take him, like the 'good boy' the users were spamming in the chatbox. you'd take him with your eyes forced shut from him stretching you out. from alan's impatience and reluctance to wait for you to adjust to him, because he's fucking furious at you.

why didn't you tell him sooner? why were you hiding this from him? how could you be so selfish and leave him blue-balled whenever you'd come out in those shorts of yours? teasing him with the smallest glimpse of your inner thighs?

if he could ever lay his hands on you, he'd show no mercy. fucking your ass doggy-style till your cheeks clapped. plunging you with his cock as you spread your legs open for him. locking your throat with his arm while he's under you, your back pressed to his chest, rendering you trapped within his embrace. you'd take his cock in every position, in every state, whether you'd like it or not, because you were a good, fucking, boy.

stressed!alan who spits on his cock because you began simultaneously filling your mouth up with a dildo.

spit. god, there was so much spit coming out of your mouth. you loved pushing yourself to the limit, alan could see it. the light leaving your eyes whenever you pushed the dildo a little too far to the back of your throat. that could be his cock, if you let him.

he imagined how warm your mouth would be. how perfectly shaped it's made for his thick, meaty cock. he had the perfect curve to make it a struggle to swallow him down, but like he noticed, you loved a challenge, didn't you?

alan's cock was plump, and beaten red in his hand. noises similar to the sound of you sucking off the dildo were made with his hand, his spit and lube sloshing together in a lewd symphony that could be heard from your room if you'd learn to shut up.

"choke on it, gag on that fucking dick..." "fuck yeah, spit on it.""good fucking boy."

stressed!alan who's nearing his climax from watching you tease the camera with your hole.

you repeated countless of profanities after every plunge of the cucumber flushing deep inside of you. you made sure to buy the girthiest one; they loved seeing your asshole gape at the end of the stream. twisting your wrist, you could feel the subtle ridges of the cucumber, violating your guts with its nature, and it was all-so glorious. the size, the texture, the viewers, the sound of donations coming in, the ‘thank you’ messages after for making them come; you were a true star within this community and it evidently showed when you finally hit your donation goal for the night.

alan fucked his fist, nearly coming to the sight of your gaping hole when you yanked the cucumber out of you like a sword-wielding knight ready to slay a dragon.

it was beautiful, watching you desperately hold onto the physical being of the cucumber, but all there was to it in the end was the memory of its girth. your hole was perfectly molded it, clenching and pursing, blowing fluttering kisses to the camera, to alan.

and if it was up to him, he'd ram his cock into you by now, not letting a second to spare in fucking you until your muscles felt like jelly, because fuck, you were so enticing like this. head lolled back, mouth open with your tongue hanging out as if you had a dripping cock to catch its cum above you.

the sound of donations kept chiming in, and alan knew he wasn't alone in this enchantment.

one more hit to your prostate, and you came undone in seconds. thick spurts of cum shot at your chest from your current position, then at your face when you raised your hips a little higher and pumped your cock with a ravishing fist. the sound of donations rang like a police siren. if you were being profiled for a crime, it was because you couldn’t hold in your cum any longer like one user had begged for you to.

stressed!alan who perfectly aligns his orgasm with yours and blows multiple loads on the screen on his laptop. his moans came out in hushed stutters, countering your choked whimpers that would then break out into begs for cum.

"fuck, fuck, fuck. i need your cum, i need it. give me all of it, fuck. all over my body. in my ass. on my face. i need that load."

his cum came out in thick, pulsating ropes, flying forward to land on the image of you resuming to fuck yourself to your audience's collective orgasm. this time, at a closer view, as you centered the camera to fill the stream with a screenful of ass and a gaping hole. it was your fans' favorite part of the stream, the chat exploding in several fire emojis and astonishment as you showed your pretty insides blooming for thick, endless spunk.

it was hypnotizing, almost as if you were really there before him.

with one hand, alan brought his laptop in between his legs, and smeared his own cum over the blooming resolution of his screen. feigning a breeding, he slides his cock over his cum, over his laptop screen, while you moaned in the background, begging lewdly for cum, to be filled, to be bred, to be dripping, to be fucked, and alan doesn't know what came over him, but another load automatically came out of him like some kind of spell.

"h-holy shit...""fuck, yeah... give me that load, all your load... are my fans breeding me right now?"

alan painted you until you were practically hidden beneath the layers of his orgasm. translucent white blurred the screen, but he could still make out your silhouette. sitting now, exhausted, wrecked, evidently too tired to be bothered to clean up the mess you made on your body.

and just like that, his head felt lighter. all of his worries had left with every dump of load over your pixelated hole, and yours as well, as you leaned back to catch your breath with your eyes closed. his breathing matched the pace of yours, together, collectively, and all he could do was shortly laugh at the situation before him.

roommate!alan who greets you in the morning with a strange smirk as you made yourself breakfast.

"i can see why your job is physically draining now." "hm?" you yawned. "what are you talking—"

roommate!alan who pulls out a cucumber from the fridge, and cuts it into thin slices for his morning smoothie.

"i-i can explain—""you can make it up to me tonight."

he popped a slice into his mouth after.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[imaginedanvrs]

almost doesn't mean never

masterlist

summary: wanda maximoff x reader. '3 times we almost kissed, 1 time we did' trope

warnings: alcohol consumption, lots of angst

word count: 3.6k

You didn’t comment when Wanda repeatedly took fries out of your bag instead of her own, too enthralled in the story she was telling to notice what she was doing. At one point, she even took a sip from your milkshake and you weren’t sure if that was accidentally or on purpose because she had a habit of continuously trying your food whenever you had any. You would always offer to get her her own portion but she would frantically decline only to take several more sips or bites. You never minded. 

  “-and the moment we got back Vis already had dinner made for me,” she told you fondly, missing how your smile dropped as promptly as the anchor in your stomach. 

  “I suppose that was the least he could do,” you said lightly, struggling to hide your disdain for the robot. You would think that after a year of hearing your best friend tell you all about how amazing her boyfriend was that you would get the hang of pretending to like him, or better yet, stop being in love with her. It was never that easy. 

  “It’s not that simple for him,” Wanda defended with a soft chuckle that even the angels in heaven would have a hard time rivalling. “He has no taste buds,” she said simply. “Your cooking is far superior,” she told you, peering out at the car park and giving you the chance to admire her side profile. 

  The casual compliment gave you a surge of pride no matter how many times you had heard it before. It felt good to know you had something to offer the Sokovian that Vision couldn’t match, more so when it was something so important to her. You often replayed the memory of the night she was missing Pietro and dropped by your apartment unannounced to find you practising her favourite dish from her home country. It had been hard tracking down all of the ingredients you needed and it was your fourth time doing so when Wanda got to taste it, insisting you had perfected it. You hadn’t believed her until she started crying. 

  “I could have made something for you tonight,” you pointed out before taking a bite of your burger before Wanda decided to start on that too. 

  “I just needed grease,” she admitted, peering around the deserted McDonald’s car park. You were parked in the far corner and probably looked super dodgy to any strangers that spotted your car lurking in the blind spot, but Wanda liked to people-watch from the comfort of your car that she spent so much time in. She said that your car was comfier than hers. 

  “You need a holiday,” you corrected. 

  “We should take a roadtrip,” she said at once. You immediately loved the idea. 

  “Where do you want to go?” You asked, willing to take her to wherever came to mind. 

  “Anywhere,” she admitted, resting her head back to gaze at you with excitement. “I miss spending time with you,” she told you, not having a single clue how much of your days were taken up by you missing her. You didn’t see each other as much as you used to and even when you did get to hang out it wasn’t for as long as you wished. That was partly how you had developed the ritual of going to fast food car parks for your meals, it was convenient in case Wanda was suddenly pulled away. Her job required her to have one foot in her work life at all times. 

  “Me too,” you said. It was far safer to underplay your feelings.

  The Sokovian shifted to the edge of her seat and took her hand comfortably in yours as she often did. You watched as she twirled her fingers around yours, feeling the warmth of the astonishing magic that lay beneath the surface. Her strength was incredible, everyone knew that, but it was the gentleness she coated it with that you had always been in awe of. 

  “Will this roadtrip be just us?” You asked even though you both knew it wasn’t going to happen. 

  “Of course,” she muttered, letting her fingertips dance across your palm. “Just us and the road,” she laid on with a smile. That smile made you feel things no platonic best friend should. That smile made you love her. With the way it reached her eyes when it was directed at you, it was too tempting not to pretend like her heart didn’t carry that same devotion to you, that her eyes hadn’t glanced down to your lips as she became just as lost in that fantasy as you. The electricity that charged the small space only existed in your world, because for her, it was saved for him. 

  The chiming of her ringtone snapped you both out of your separate thoughts and disconnected your hands just as swiftly. You didn’t have to glance over at her phone to know who it was and you shouldn’t have felt a sting when she opted to answer instead of calling him back later. 

  “Hey, Vis,” she said, voice so tender and yet still striking a blow. 

  You hated that toaster so much.

*

The slight murmur of Wanda reciting the lines of the character’s held your attention far greater than the original could ever hope to. She knew every episode of the sitcom by heart and you were pretty sure you were coming close to being able to say the same. She had been quiet that night, caught up in her own head about the events of her latest mission, so hearing her voice at all was a relief. 

  She had her head resting comfortably on your shoulder so you felt a soft vibration with every mutter of words. You smiled, not daring to move which was easy when she stunned you with her next words. 

  “I want to quit my job.”

  “Oh?” You said casually to her statement you fully supported. You knew she had an incredible role in saving countless lives multiple times a week, but you also weren’t blind to the fact that your best friend didn’t enjoy her job. Unimaginable danger aside, no matter what she did, the public criticised her endlessly and did nothing to ease the gnawing feelings she had that she was a threat to her team and the people she helped. She had come so far in controlling her abilities, but she was only human. 

  “I won’t,” she said. “I just wish I could.”

  “Why don’t you?” You enquired after a pause. Wanda sighed, lifting herself off of your shoulder and bringing her knees up to her chest. 

  “This place keeps me in check,” she admitted. You hated how she talked about herself. 

  “You’re not an animal or a criminal, Wanda. And this team has no possession over you. They can’t keep you here, no one can.” Except someone did. Vision was the only reason Wanda really remained on the team. He had convinced her to. But really, as long as he was an Avenger, Wanda would be too. Yet another reason for your disdain for him. 

  “Yeah,” she sighed, clearly not believing you.

  “Wanda,” you prompted. She looked at you. “It’s your life. You can do whatever you want with it.” She still didn’t seem convinced. “If you want to run away, I can cause a distraction,” you told her, finally earning a smile from the brunette. 

  “I can count on you for anything,” Wanda said simply because it was the one thing she had never doubted. She had doubted her safety as a child. She had doubted Ultron’s intentions. She had doubted her team’s trust in her. She had doubted Vision’s loyalty. But she never doubted you. 

  “Always,” you assured without a beat. “I’ve got your back.” You wished that could have been enough for the brunette to decide that it was you she would run away with, but it was clear that if Wanda ever did opt to flee, she would take him with her and leave you behind. 

  “That might put you in danger one day,” she said sadly, letting her anxieties cloud her judgement. 

  “I don’t care.” You really didn’t. How could you? 

  She smiled at you softly and pulled your forwards slightly to kiss your forehead. She didn’t linger but her lips left a deeper imprint than she would ever know. You had always wondered what her lips would feel like against your skin and it was even better than you had dared dream. 

  When she pulled away and left a minute gap between you, there was a split second where you thought she was about to bring her lips to your own. But that moment passed when Vision casually faded through Wanda’s bedroom wall. She had told him countless times not to do that and you had to use all of your willpower not to scream at him to get out. 

  “My apologies, I didn’t know you had company,” he said but made no effort to turn around. “Good evening, y/n.”

  “Vision,” you replied without looking his way. 

  “You’ve got to knock, Vis,” Wanda chuckled as you subtly placed a couple more inches between you. 

  “Should I come back?” He enquired.

  No. Just keep floating off and never turn back.

  “Yeah,” Wanda smiled warmly at him past you.

  “That’s okay, I should probably head off anyway,” you excused. You had nothing planned and no work the following day so there was no legitimate reason for you to go. But if you stayed you would have just felt like they were both waiting for you to leave. 

  “Really?” You missed her surprise and touch of hurt at your sudden shift, watching on as you stood up from the bed to grab your jacket. 

  “I’ve got some errands to run tomorrow.” Lie. “And it’s getting late.” Not really. 

  “Okay, but I’ll still see you tomorrow, right?” The hopeful edge in her voice was going to stick with you for a while and you knew you were going to be replaying and over analysing it constantly that night. You had a way of hurting yourself with your optimism more than Wanda hurt you with reality. 

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you grinned back at her with sudden ease. You were only getting coffee, but there really was very little that would stop you going. 

 “See you then,” you called as left, purposefully ignoring her mechanical boyfriend. 

*

As far as maid of honours went, you probably weren’t the best. 

  You didn’t carry the enthusiasm that any of the guests at the wedding did and it proved difficult to maintain your fake smile the entire day. You really were happy for her, your best friend was finally getting married to the love of her life, cementing your role as something far less significant. You just didn’t get it, he wasn’t even human. 

  The ceremony was nothing short of gorgeous. It was a small reception, Wanda had been adamant that she wanted to keep it intimate despite Tony trying to throw more and more money at the event and add more guests. But it was Wanda’s day, it was her choice. 

  You had never seen the Sokovian look so happy in her life, or so beautiful. You supposed the two went hand in hand, her joy had always been so warming and infectious that it was impossible not to see the perfection in it. Everything was finally coming together for her, while your world fell apart. 

  You didn’t acknowledge Natasha when she sat down next to you. As much as it pained you to watch, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the tender slow dance the bride and groom swayed along to. She looked like a Disney Princess, her dress wrapped around her with an elegance you were in awe of. 

  “I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” Natasha told you. You still didn’t look away. 

  “I couldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding,” you muttered, barely audible over the gentle music around you.   

  “Still, it can't be easy when you’re in love with her,” the Russian stated. You noticeably stiffened but didn’t bother to deny the fact. Your heart raced at the confirmation that your feelings weren’t a total secret, but you still knew Natasha well enough to be sure she wouldn’t tell anyone else. “No one else knows,” she assured. “Including Wanda.”

  “Maybe this will be what finally makes me move on,” you wished aloud. Natasha didn’t respond, following your gaze to where the dance had come to an end. Most of the guests were beginning to disperse and you planned to do the same soon, you had already stayed longer than you had thought you could be able to. 

  “Carol’s into you.” You were aware of that, just as you were aware the usually confident Captain was working up the courage to ask you out. It would be good for you if you said yes. Carol was great…

  “One lesbian crushing on another that’s in love with her best friend, you guys are hopeless,” Natasha quipped and you gave her your first genuine smile of the evening. 

  “I know, I know,” you admitted, holding your hands up and chuckling with the redhead. “I should go, see you around, Romanoff.” Natasha waved you off and watched you go with an edge of pity that she knew you would hate. As you reached the door, the redhead noticed Wanda frown in your direction and started after you, swaying in her slightly intoxicated state. 

  “Y/n,” she called once you were outside and finally alone. You spun around, feeling a pang of guilt that you had been caught leaving her wedding without saying goodbye. 

  “Hey, sorry. You looked busy and I…” you hadn’t thought of an excuse and you didn’t have the energy to lie to her anyway. “You’re married,” you stated with a shaky exhale that Wanda wouldn’t have missed if she hadn’t had a bottle of champagne to herself. 

  “I am!” She beamed and suddenly threw her arms around you. You hugged her back with a hesitation you had never given her before, uncomfortable and pained by the feeling of her wedding dress beneath her fingertips. You had swallowed your tears all day, but actually feeling how real it all was threatened to be too much. You just wanted to run home and cry into your pillow. 

  “I just,” she sighed heavily with bubbling excitement. “I’m so fucking happy right now,” she giggled and finally pulled away. “I love him so much and…” she seemed at a loss for words. You were too. 

  “I’m really happy for you, Wands,” you told her, ignoring how your throat felt like it was swelling to the size of a balloon. She grinned and hugged you again, holding you flush against her. 

  “Thanks, y/n. I can't wait for it to be your wedding day.” Her words were as rough as a sucker punch to the gut. Would you even ever have one? Surely. Right? 

  She barely pulled away to kiss your cheek, letting the alcohol do as it pleased and numb the feeling of your hands twitching around her waist at the act. “I hope he treats you well,” you whispered. Wanda smiled and rubbed your cheek affectionately with her thumb, as though she was about to use it to pull you closer once more. You would never know if she would or not, because you stepped away. 

  “Goodnight, Wanda,” you smiled, catching one last glance at the ring around her finger that glimmered under the fairy lights strung above you. They were your final reminder that your best friend was getting her happy ever after, because everything had fallen into place. 

  The moment your back was turned, tears streamed freely down your broken features.

*

You reread the offer letter for perhaps the seventh time that hour, determined to find some fault with it that you had missed before. Regrettably, you found nothing. It was the perfect promotion. Better pay, better hours, better benefits. There was an apartment available just a short walk from the office and from what you had seen from the online viewing, you couldn’t get a better deal on such an ideal place to live. There wasn’t a single flaw that was reason enough for you to turn it down, except for the fact it was on the other side of the country. 

  It wasn't that big a deal. People moved away all the time, it was a natural part of advancing with your life. It just meant that you would have to leave your friends behind, that you would have to leave her behind. Again, that wasn’t really a bad thing. Maybe distance was the only thing that was finally going to put an end to your insistent feelings for Wanda, who had been happily married for nearly a year. It could finally cease your reluctant ‘what ifs’.

  “I knew you would be here,” she called a second before you heard the car door slam shut. You pocketed your phone and glanced behind you. 

  Wanda strolled up the cliff side towards you as the wind gently caressed her hair, though it didn’t seem to ease the concern written over her features. “You didn’t answer my texts,” she said as she joined you on the hood of your car and overlooked the vast ocean stretched out beyond the drop just metres ahead of you. 

  You knew what she was implying, you always answered her texts so she immediately suspected something was wrong. “Girl troubles?” She asked. You scoffed, Carol (sweet as she was) was the least of your concerns. You had only seen each other a handful of times and it felt more like you were hooking up than establishing something with a deeper potential. 

  “Not exactly,” you told her. 

  “Then what’s up?” She asked, nudging your shoulder lightly. 

  “I got a job offer,” you shrugged. Wanda’s eyes widened and she began to grin. Her excitement was infectious.

  “That’s what you’re moping about?”

  “It’s in California,” you said at once. Wanda’s smile wavered, but she refused to let it visibly disappear when it didn’t change the fact that you had a significant opportunity ahead of you. 

  “Wow,” was all she could say. “Have you talked to Carol about it?” She asked even though you both knew it didn’t make the least bit of difference to the Captain what part of the country you were in. You could be on the other side of the world and she would still visit you as frequently as she did. It was clear that the Sokovian couldn’t think of anything else to ask, but it still irked you that it was Carol’s opinion she enquired about. 

  “No, we don’t talk about that stuff,” you dismissed. 

  “Really? It’s a big deal.” You could see her frowning in your peripheral and it was no secret that Wanda had been trying to get you and the blonde to be something you couldn’t. 

  “It won’t make a difference to how we hook up,” you huffed, growing agitated at your best friend’s blindness to where your interests truly lied. 

  “I thought you two were getting closer,” she said slowly, noting your shift. 

 “Carol and I aren’t going to become anything more, Wanda,” you told her firmly, but she insisted on pushing you further.

  “Why?” It was as if she wanted to see you snap and finally admit-

  “Because she’s not you!” You exclaimed, feeling a sudden rush come over you as you let all of the lies you had been held back by all those years to finally dissipate. Wanda stared at you, stunned. 

 “How long?” The question was almost carried away by the breeze.

  “Years,” you admitted, no point down playing the truth. It wouldn’t make it any easier. 

  “Y/n-” she started but you recognised her voice and you knew what was coming. 

  “Don’t. Please don’t,” you begged, tears brewing in your eyes as you realised this could be your long awaited breaking point in your friendship. It was inevitable. It had been since the first day you met the brunette. 

  You took in each other’s drastically different emotions, confirming the alternate cross roads you were about to take. But if that was to be the case, you wanted to have at least one small victory to take away. You cupped Wanda’s cheek as she had done to you so many times before, never understanding the burn you had felt at her touch at the time. She understood it then though, because the softness of your hand protected her from the winds that were picking up and made it all the more tempting to follow your lead as you closed the gap between you. 

  Sometimes in romance novels, they say that the first kiss was better than either of the characters had dreamt of, but that wasn’t the case with your kiss with Wanda. Sure, her lips fit perfectly against your own and yes, the faint taste of strawberry could have made you light headed with a giddy glee. But your kiss was filled with remorse and regret. There was a striking pain to the way your lips moved together and an overwhelming sense of anguish that neither of you would be able to rid yourselves of for quite some time. 

  Worst of all, that kiss was your unspoken goodbye.

  “I’m sorry, I just wanted the chance to feel as lucky as he does,” you told her as you pulled away entirely. Wanda didn’t respond, you didn’t expect her to. She had already given you more than you ever thought possible. So you got off of the hood of your car and Wanda willed herself to do the same, standing back solemnly as you got in the vehicle she would never join you in again. She couldn’t bring herself to watch you drive, nor could you glance back at your best friend in your mirror.

My fault for falling in love with a straight girl.

[ssahotchnerr]

Can I request a fic based on these thought ❤️Aaron would 100% be the kind of dad that would spend all night building a barbie house or dolls house and would also very willingly sit and play barbie’s with his daughters.

well worth it

YOU'RE SO RIGHT THAT'S TOO CUTE cw; girl dad!aaron, bau!fem!reader, fluff <3

growing impatient and nearly beginning to doze off without him, you exited your bedroom in search of aaron. you've waited all day to be cozied up with him, and you simply couldn't wait any longer.

you've been comfortably waiting for over an hour; having gone through your full night routine, getting into bed, reading a few chapters of your current read. aaron even came in to change into his pajamas at one point, but trailed out again.

"hey you," you peeked your head into the living room, finding aaron laying stomach-down on the plush carpet. "you coming to bed? it's getting late."

"in a minute." aaron mumbled gently in response, his voice vaguely muffled into whatever it was he had in front of him. "as soon as i finish up here."

you ventured further into the room in curiosity, the closer proximity allowing you to see your daughter's new dollhouse set before him.

your nose crinkled lightly in amusement, a small smile forming on your face. and as if aaron could sense it - he peered up at you, a matching smile on his own lips as he saw your tickled expression, his brown eyes aglow.

"i promised i would have it ready in the morning." aaron admitted with a soft chuckle as he sat up, you scrambling down on the carpet to join him. "it's done, there's just so many damn stickers that have to be in certain spots." he grabbed the instruction pamphlet, studying it for a moment. "wallpaper for every room, that was a pain. things like a bath rug for the bathroom. even some go on the furniture - they're tiny, tiny stickers..."

as he trailed on and on, listing all the details, you fell quiet the more you followed along to his words, your eyes analyzing his face in slight astonishment.

"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly again, his eyebrows furrowing quizzically as he tossed the pamphlet aside, the paper creating a fluttering sound as it fell. he grasped onto the sticker sheet once more, his lips drawing into a frustrated line as he struggled to peel one off - his large hands all to blame.

"it still surprises me out of nowhere sometimes, despite how much time has passed." you shook your head slightly in content, swiping the sheet from his hands. you easily removed the sticker, handing it to him. "you're listing off the necessities for a dollhouse. for our daughter. there was a time where the most i heard you talk was while giving a profile, and just, here we are now. i dunno, does that make sense?"

"completely." aaron agreed as his smile retook form on his face, placing the sticker where it belonged. "happens to me every day. how lucky i am to have you. never thought i'd be dad to another, yet alone a girl dad at that."

"it suits you." you grinned, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "want some help? anything to get you to bed sooner."

aaron looked at the instructions again, a soft hum leaving his mouth as he thought. "again, it's pretty much finished foundation wise. but if you wanna start setting the furniture inside, be my guest darling."

side by side, the two of you worked together, rather giddily at that. quiet quips, playful comments how your own home could use these and whatnot (aaron groaned at your suggestion of wallpaper). warm but soft laughter, to prevent waking up jack and your little girl. you continued to help aaron peel the stickers as needed, and he, the notorious stickler, double checked you were putting items in the correct places 'according to the instructions'. you both knew once your daughter had her hands on her dollhouse, would nothing remain where it belonged, but that didn't stop him from teasing you; "did you put it in the-" "aaron, yes!"

finally, once in bed with aaron at your backside this time, one of his arms draped securely around your waist, you fell asleep with the heartwarming thought that your daughter's very first request in the morning - after her initial excitement - would be for aaron to play dolls with her. and of course, would he comply (just for a bit, and as long as she finished breakfast first). five minutes would surely turn into ten, fifteen, twenty depending on how early she awoke.

such brought up the potential risk of aaron being late to work, but if it allowed just a few more smiles to come from baby girl, it was well worth it.

[elizabethsnuts]

Mini Genius

Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer go see the team at Quantico, you wanted to show everyone how similar you were to you dad.

———

Spencer carefully adjusted your tiny beige cardigan, making sure it sat perfectly on your small shoulders. You looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, you absolutely loved dressing up like your daddy. Your hair was neatly styled, and you wore a small bow that matched the colour of Spencer’s tie. You were getting ready to go see the team at Quantico, you loved going to see all your aunties and uncles.

Spencer helped you put your white socks and little Mary Janes on, getting you out the door of the house. He carefully strapped you into your car seat, checking the harness twice to ensure it was secure. You giggled in delight as you watched your daddy’s focused expression. "Ready to go see the team, sweetheart?" Spencer asked with a smile.

You nodded enthusiastically and smiled brightly. “We gonna see, Auntie JJ, Auntie Emily, Auntie Penelope! An’ Uncle Derek! An’ an’ an’ Uncle Hotch!”

Spencer chuckled as you listed off the team with your little high-pitched voice, you really did adore the team. “Yep, we’re going to see everyone!”

———

Spencer walked into the elevator, you securely on his hip, your tiny feet swinging and wiggling as you eagerly waited for the elevator to go up. Your outfit really was a miniature version of Spencer’s, you wore a tiny vest over a button-up shirt, complete with little slacks, your tiny Mary Janes and of course your cardigan that sat over the vest and button-up shirt. It was clear that you idolized your father, mimicking his style down to the last detail. You had it down to a T.

When the two of you reached the bullpen, the team was already there, immersed in their work. JJ was the first to notice you. Her face lit up with a bright smile as she stood up and walked over.

JJ took you from Spencer’s arms and hugged you. "Look who's here!" she exclaimed, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. You squealed with delight as you saw familiar faces, waving excitedly to everyone.

"Well, if it isn't the littlest profiler!" Derek called out, standing up from his desk with a broad smile. "And she's dressed just like you, pretty boy!" He approached the three of you and he couldn’t help but tease Spencer. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Reid, did you forget to check your mini-me's wardrobe this morning?" he teased, earning a chuckle from the others.

Spencer chuckled and looked at you. “What? There’s nothing wrong with her outfit. She likes it!”

You nodded and smiled. “Daddy looks nice.” You stated simply.

"That he does," JJ chuckled, stroking your hair. "But I think you definitely pull it off more."

Morgan bent down and ruffled your hair. "So, Y/N, do you also have the smarts like your dad?"

Your eyes lit up, and you nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh! Daddy says I remember lots of things."

Morgan raised an eyebrow and looked at Spencer. "She's already showing off, huh? Just like you."

Spencer shrugged, a proud smile on his face. "It runs in the family."

"Alright, then," Morgan said, turning back to you. "What can you remember?"

You quickly pulled out a small, colourful book from your backpack. "Daddy took me to the aquarium, an’ I learned all about fishies!"

"Oh yeah?" Morgan's interest was piqued. "What did you learn?"

You opened the book and pointed to a picture of a clownfish. "This is a clownfish. They live in warm waters an’ like to hide in sea anemones. The daddy clownfish takes care of the babies."

"Wow, that's impressive!" Morgan said, genuinely astonished. "You remembered all that?"

You nodded enthusiastically. "An’ this," you flipped the page, "is a hammerhead shark. They can see really well because their eyes are on the sides of their heads. They like to eat stingrays."

Morgan looked up at Spencer, “Okay, pretty boy, I see you’ve made a carbon copy of yourself."

Spencer smiled proudly. "She has an eidetic memory, just like me. She remembers everything we read about at the aquarium."

JJ smiled at you as you flipped through your sea animal book. "I take it you had fun at the aquarium?"

You nodded vigorously, continuing to flip through the pages. "Yes, yes, yes, Aunty JJ! I saw lots an’ lots of fishies. An’ I remembered all their names!"

"Tell Aunty JJ about the octopus," Spencer encouraged you.

Your eyes lit up, and you turned to JJ. "An octopus can change colours to hide from predators. They have three hearts an’ blue blood!"

"Three hearts and blue blood?" JJ repeated, clearly impressed. "That's amazing, Y/N. You're so smart!"

You smiled shyly at the compliment. “Thank you! You know that boy seahorses carry the babies? An’ that starfish can grow their arms back!” You said excitedly with a smile. “Daddy reads bedtime fish stories lots and lots!”

JJ chuckled at your excitement and hugged you closer. “I think that all your sea animal facts are super super cool! I think that when you see Henry next he’d love to hear all about it!”

You giggled and nodded, clapping your hands together in your toddler-like excitement. “Daddy we go see Henry soon? With Aunty JJ!”

Spencer chuckled and nodded, taking you back into his arms. “Sure we can! We’ll organise a day for it, don’t worry.”

———

As the afternoon turned into evening, Spencer gathered up your things, ready to head home. The team gathered around to say their goodbyes, each one giving you a hug or a high-five.

"Come back soon, okay?" Garcia said while she hugged you and gave you double high-fives. “We love having you here, N/N."

You hugged her tightly, your little arms wrapped around her. "I love you, Auntie Penelope."

Spencer took your hand once more, and you waved goodbye to the team. As you walked down the hall, you looked up at your father. "Daddy, can we see more fishies tomorrow?"

Spencer smiled down at you. "We can do anything you want, sweetheart."

You grinned, satisfied with that answer. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Y/N," Spencer replied, lifting you up into his arms for a hug. He knew that no matter where life took him, as long as you had each other, everything would be alright.

[moonxytcn]

could you do a Billie Eilish x reader fanfic where reader covers one of bullies songs in her live and billie ends up seeing it and forces Finneas to stalk readers social media with her?

cover of Billie's song

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – You cover a Billie song and she makes her brother stalk you on social media

warnings – fluffy

a/n – Thank you for the request and I'm sorry for the delay in posting

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

–––

You sit in your cozy room, bathed in the soft, glowing light of your fairy lights. Your laptop is propped up on a stack of books, angled just right for your live stream. You glance nervously at the viewer count – there are a few more people than usual tonight. It’s both exciting and terrifying. Your fingers hover over your guitar strings, trembling slightly. Tonight, you’ve decided to cover a Billie Eilish song, a bold choice for your small but dedicated audience.

Taking a deep breath, you adjust the microphone and start strumming the opening chords of "Ocean Eyes." Your voice, a bit shaky at first, gains confidence as you lose yourself in the music. The chat lights up with hearts and encouraging comments. You can almost feel the virtual applause as you finish the last note, a sense of accomplishment washing over you.

Little do you know, on the other side of town, Billie Eilish is lounging on her couch, scrolling through Instagram. She’s idly checking her notifications when she stumbles upon your live stream, shared by a fan account she follows. Intrigued, she taps the link and starts watching. She’s immediately struck by the raw emotion in your voice and the intimate atmosphere you’ve created. There’s something genuine and captivating about your performance.

As soon as the song ends, Billie’s fingers fly across her phone screen. She sends the link to her brother, Finneas, with a simple message: "You have to see this." Finneas, in the middle of mixing a new track in his home studio, pauses when his phone buzzes. With a sigh, he checks the message and clicks the link. Within moments, he’s as engrossed as Billie was.

"We need to find this girl." Billie texts him, excitement bubbling in her words. Finneas, ever the supportive brother, agrees with a chuckle. He begins a deep dive into your social media profiles, following the breadcrumbs you’ve left behind – Instagram, Twitter, even your less active TikTok account. Billie joins in, her heart racing with the thrill of discovery.

Meanwhile, your stream is winding down. You thank your viewers, blushing at the outpouring of love and support. As you log off, your phone buzzes with a notification. Your heart skips a beat when you see that Finneas has followed you on Instagram. You double-check to make sure it’s not a fan account. Nope, it’s the real deal. Before you can process this, another notification pops up – Billie Eilish herself has followed you too.

Your mind races. Is this real? You pinch yourself, just to be sure. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you type a thank you message, fingers fumbling over the keys. You hit send, half-expecting no reply. But to your astonishment, Billie responds almost immediately.

"Loved your cover! Want to chat?" She writes. You stare at the screen, momentarily paralyzed. Billie Eilish wants to talk to you? You quickly type back, trying to keep your cool, and soon you’re exchanging messages, your excitement growing with each reply.

Over the next few days, you find yourself in a whirlwind of communication with Billie and Finneas. They ask about your influences, your favorite songs, and your musical journey. They share stories from their own experiences, offering advice and encouragement. It feels surreal, like a dream you never want to wake from.

Then, one afternoon, your phone rings. It’s a video call from Billie. You take a deep breath and answer, your face breaking into a smile as her familiar features fill the screen.

"Hey!" Billie greets you with a grin. "I was just talking to Finneas, and we think you have an incredible talent. How would you feel about collaborating on something?"

Your heart skips a beat. Collaborate? With Billie Eilish and Finneas? You can hardly believe your ears. You nod eagerly, words failing you for a moment.

"That would be amazing!" You finally manage to say, your voice trembling with excitement. Billie’s smile widens.

"Great! Let’s start brainstorming. I have a few ideas I think you’d really shine on." She says, and just like that, you’re discussing music and melodies, your nerves slowly giving way to pure joy.

Over the next few weeks, you work closely with Billie and Finneas, exchanging ideas and crafting a song that feels like a perfect blend of your styles. The experience is intense, challenging, and incredibly rewarding. You learn so much, not just about music, but about yourself and your potential.

The day the song is released, you watch in awe as it climbs the charts, your name next to Billie’s in the credits. Your phone buzzes non-stop with messages from friends and family, and your social media explodes with new followers and comments.

In your room, the fairy lights casting a warm glow, you strum your guitar and sing along to the song you helped create. It’s more than just a collaboration; it’s a turning point, the start of a new chapter in your life. And it all began with a simple cover, a leap of faith that led to a dream come true.

[happiest-hotch]

i think you did one of there with spencer and it was cute so i was wondering if you'd write one for aaron, a full fic or blurb where Aaron guesses she (his gf) is pregnant before she guesses? thanks in advance

i'm glad you liked it !! it's the type of scene i love writing

Summary: basically as above, but they are married

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Content Warning: pregnancy (obviously)

Word Count: 1.5k

It's a quiet day at the BAU, and you and Aaron are in his office, having lunch together on the rare occasion you're not out on a case, there aren't any urgent consults, and he doesn't have a meeting.

He starts smirking when you complain about there not being enough pickles in your burger.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanor.

He leans back in his chair, his hands clasping behind his head. "I don't know, honey. You've been acting kind of strange lately. Do you think it's possible that you're pregnant?"

You roll your eyes, playfully kicking him under the desk. "Haha, very funny, Aaron. You better watch your mouth." You say jokingly.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm teasing, but if I'd take a bet on it. Seriously, you've been craving some weird foods lately, and if I was dumber, I'd say you were having some mood swings. Maybe you should take a test, just in case."

You shake your head, laughing at his persistence. "I highly doubt it. You know, with the birth control and all that? And you know it's a bad idea to offer me a bet." It might have been why he did it because you're both insanely competitive.

"Why don't we up the stakes?" He offers, the signature smirk that only you're privileged to lighting up his face.

You grin mischievously at him. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, you know how the team bet on if we were dating?" He asks and you nod. "Let's include them. Only if you're comfortable." He's only joking, and you're so sure he's off the mark.

"A chance to show to prove your profiling skills wrong?" You ask with a giggle. "Derek would kill me if I didn't take it."

"You're on," Aaron says, holding out a hand to shake yours and make it official. "But when I'm right, you owe me."

You chuckle again. "Yeah? What will I owe you?"

He grins, his nose scrunching adorably as he thinks. "I'll get back to you about that."

You notice the team walking back in from lunch. "Let's do it."

Aaron and you walk out onto the landing, and he makes his announcement. "Conference room, everyone."

They look at you both with a high level of concern written on their faces, scurrying like something urgent has happened which, due to the nature of your jobs, is reasonable. "Don't use your Unit Chief voice." You scold, hitting him on the shoulder. "And don't even think about bullying anyone into agreeing with you."

"Deal, but you can't make it seem offensive for them to bet against you." He instructs.

"I won't." He assures you, placing a hand on your lower back and guiding you to the boardroom.

Penelope's jumpy when you two walk in and stand in front of the screen, not doing as well as everyone else to hide her worry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." You tell them all quickly, but it's a message to Aaron as well: that although you're sure he's wrong, it wouldn't be a bad thing.

"Y/n's pregnant," Aaron announces.

You hit him on the shoulder, quickly speaking before everyone jumps up to hug you and offer congratulations. "That's just what he thinks." You say.

Even Spencer had a puzzled look, but Derek verbalizes their thoughts. "What?"

"We're betting," Aaron explains. "I think she's pregnant, she thinks she's not, so like you all bet on whether we were dating or not, we thought you might like to bet on this."

For everyone who has known him longer than you have, it's astonishing to see Aaron so open with his personal life, but you bring the playful side out in him.

The bets are in, more in favor of you, although the doctor of the team bets against you which is a little worrying. Of course, Spencer isn't a medical doctor, but he knows more about pregnancy than even JJ, who has been pregnant.

"So when do we get the results?" Derek wonders.

"Right now?" You offer. "Well as soon as I go get a test."

Aaron shakes his head beside you. "No, no way. I want it to be just us because it's going to be a special moment."

You roll your eyes at him. "Okay, but you're not coming in the bathroom while I pee on a stick." You inform him.

"We'll see." He settles, looking at you fondly before dropping the smile reserved for you when he looks back at the team. "Let's get back to work."

Aaron stops at a drug store on the way home, determined and cemented in his position as he buys three boxes of pregnancy tests.

"I don't have enough pee for all of these." You inform him when you're getting ready for bed that night.

He opens each of the boxes, handing you one of each. "Get your cute butt in there." He directs.

"I'm not taking this for you." You remind him with a smirk. "I'm taking it to prove you wrong."

"So, for me then?" He jokes, chuckling at you.

You're not really sure why you are taking the test. Of course, it's gotten to be a bigger idea with the team's involvement, but now that you're doing it, you're kind of hoping you lose. The excitement engulfing you is a shock, but it's so unlikely that you don't want to give in to the delusion.

"Are you okay?" Aaron taps on the door after you've been in there more than a reasonable amount of time.

You open the door, trying to keep a calm facade, and welcome him in, handing over the capped tests and sitting on the counter.

"You actually want this, don't you?" He profiles within a second.

It's an annoying trait of his when it shows up in your personal life, but sometimes you are glad since you're feeling like you don't have all the words. "It just threw me." You admit. "I didn't realize that I do feel ready until today."

His face drops in an instant, guilt sinking in. "I'm sorry I pushed so hard." He says very apologetically, a hand going to his forehead. "And I got the team involved."

"It's alright." You soothe, taking his hand in yours. "It's not like we can't just make a baby once we know."

Aaron nods, a cheeky smile taking over his face. "I'll give you a baby if that's the prize you want for winning the bet."

"Did you figure out what you want?" You wonder. "If you're right."

He thinks about it for another moment. "Baby or not, I can't think of anything else I need in life." His hand rests on your thigh delicately. "Ready to look?"

You shake your head, the nerves overwhelming you. "Let's not bother. We can go not knowing."

Aaron chuckles, shaking his head. "We both know we can't." He doesn't give you much more of a choice, figuratively tearing the bandaid off as he flips over the test. He's usually so good at keeping his face neutral, having had years of practice, but he doesn't. Not in your tender moment where his eyes go glassy, and he grins broadly. "Mrs. Hotchner, congratulations, you're pregnant."

"Oh, my god." Your hand clamps over your mouth in shock, but you quickly tear it away to take the test from him, needing to see it to believe it. "We're going to have a baby?"

"Yes, we are." He answers.

"I can't believe you realized before I did." You chuckle. Without a doubt, it's going to become a story that frequently gets retold.

Aaron leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His warm hand rests on your lower stomach, and it suddenly feels very real. "I know you that well." He reminds you. "But I will still be collecting my betting money."

You giggle at him. "I would."

It's probably clear to the team when you and Aaron are late for work, the team likely assuming you're at the doctor's office. The team is already waiting in the conference room, Rossi waving you two in.

"So, who won?" JJ wonders, struggling to curb her enthusiasm.

You share a quick smile with your husband that no one can decipher if you're gloating about winning. "Fortunately... Aaron." You inform them.

Penelope grabs you in a hug first, and you're sure she's crying. Then you're passed around the team for more hugs, sharing delighted looks with Aaron between receiving congratulations.

He's the last person to wrap you in a hug, holding you tightly to his chest. "You're so incredible." He whispers to you. "And I was thinking we could get lobster rolls with my prize money for dinner."

You quickly pull back, shaking your head. "That thought makes me feel nauseous."

His mouth drops before he quickly recovers. "Alright, pickles it is."

You're in your own little world with him until Derek gets your attention. "So, when do we get to bet if it's a boy or girl?"

[chiiyuuvv]

brownie 🍪 s. harua

you came for brownies, not a cute boy behind the register

stranger/barista!harua x fem!reader 0.4k listen to the song!!

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

A sigh leaves harua’s lips as his eyes travel from customer to customer without a care, the back of his fists prompting his chin. Life as a barista is boring when you don’t have any orders to make, the colorful pastries already in their secluded rows after the male finished restocking them. It was until the doorbell chimes when harua’s slouched body straightens, his signature smile and greeting leaving his lips without further thought. “Hello! How can I take your.. order..?” his cheerful attitude turns into an astonished tone, countless blinks leaving his eyes for he has never met anyone so.. beautiful. 

It felt like his breath was taken away once he gazed into your eyes, your bonny smile making his heart pound as he gives you a flustered look in return. “Just a simple brownie, please!” your sweet voice called out, silencing the shy boy as he wordlessly nodded in response. Those brief seconds were the perfect time to observe the boy’s side profile, admiring the way his eyes seemed to sparkle as he tapped on his screen to place your order. The way he wetted his lips, the soft pink glistening under the dim lighting. “Gosh, you’re so handsome,” you mumble to yourself in a vacuous tone, before pausing when you notice how the boy’s body stiffens. “I think I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out with a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck to avoid your eyes. “The brownies..” he stops to let out a nervous chuckle, “they’re $6.99. Is that all you’re getting?” you hum in response, fishing through your purse to find the cash. Once harua receives the money, he places it into the cash register before grabbing a small bag to put your brownies in. He halts his movements to scribble something on the plastic, feeling a bit bold as he hands you your good. “Have a nice day,” he smiles, which increases once you return it.

As you turn your heel, you look down at your package with great wonder, finding black handwriting in the place of where your name was supposed to be located. “You’re beautiful,” it wrote, your eyes glancing back to the owner of the message. Harua was already looking at you, his smile reaching his eyes as the tips of his ears go red, butterflies swarming in his stomach.

︴bonus! happy birthday harua!! prompt creds here

▸ taglist 📬 @starryriize , @cherrycolaberry

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[audrey-carr1]

The Heiress and the Lady of the House

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: You are a heiress who has no clue what you are doing with your life. You return to your grandmother's home that you inherited, and you happen to find a job at a familiar mansion. Shenanigans ensue. (Sorry I suck at summaries :P)

warnings: fem!reader, some kissing

Everyone stares in shock at the sight of Hetty catching and holding on to me. Quickly adjusting myself to an upright position, I get back to my feet with Hetty's hand momentarily steadying me. We lock eyes for a moment and murmur a quick "thank you" which Hetty acknowledges with a curt nod. I feel her hand slide down the length of my arm before she places it back at her side.

"Hetty is that your ghost power?" Flower asks

"I hope not, I was surely hoping it was banishing people to Hades," Hetty replies brushing imaginary dirt off of her sleeves.

"Still not funny, Hetty," Trevor says.

Hetty smirks to herself. "Well I guess there's only one way to be sure. Samantha!"

"Yes?" Samantha answers hurrying to Hetty's side. Hetty goes to grab the hand of her niece and is dismayed when her hand goes straight through.

"How can that be?" Hetty asks herself before grabbing my hand again. Hetty's hand doesn't fall through as it did with Sam's. I feel my cheeks grow warm at the touch, and I lightly clear my throat.

Everyone is looking in astonishment before Samantha chimes in.

"Well maybe (y/n) can do more than just see and talk to ghosts."

"You mean I can touch them too?"

"Well you can touch Hetty, and there's only one way to find out it's just limited to her," Pete replies holding out his hand.

I outstretch my own and firmly grasp his in a firm handshake. This cause another eruption of gasps.

"Oh my god, she can touch ghosts!" Alberta squeals and graps my free hand. She begins to admire and play with rings on my fingers.

"Oh, this day can't get any freakier!" Trevor exclaims

"What's with all of the, oh my god did another guest die?! Do we have another ghost on the property?"

"No, not dead," I say waving in his direction.

"Sass, this is (y/n). She is our new employee for the B&B who happens to be able to see you all and apparently can touch ghosts as well," Sam replies.

"Did she fall and hit her head?" Sass asks

"Why is everyone asking if I fell and hit my head? Does that happen a lot around here?" I ask Sam

Before she can answer Thor chimes in, "Only if vase on floor. Always watch your step,"

Over the next six months, I found myself right at home at Woodstone B&B, Sam and Jay often comment that I am a natural at running the business and keeping the ghosts entertained even if I often get involved with their shenanigans. While I've been there Sam and Jay have been able to renovate the basement to add more rooms as well as add a private space for all of the basement ghosts. This also allowed for a spare room to open upstairs, Sam and Jay converted it into a bedroom for whenever I worked overnight shifts.

"(y/n), Jay and I would like to ask you a question," Sam says approaching the front desk.

"I promise, I had nothing to do with Trevor creating more dating profiles. He is way more mischievous than he lets on," I quickly say.

"That is not what we were going to ask, but I'll talk to him about that," Sam says, " We were actually wondering how you felt about being left alone at Woodstone for an extended period. With how well we are doing here, we are thinking of expanding the business."

"Oh wow that's great! How long were you thinking of being gone?"

"4 months!" Jay says raising his fists in the air "Road trip!"

"Oh!" You say in surprise, "That it is a long time."

"We only ask because you seem right at home here, and you wouldn't be entirely by yourself since there is the intern that comes by. The restaurant is closed for renovations until we come back so you only have to worry about the B&B," Jay says trying to reassure me.

"I'm honored that you think that I can handle everything, and I think I'm up to the task. What's the worst that could happen?" I say.

"That is what TV people say before something bad happens," Thor says in passing.

"He has a point," Sam says

Now it's my turn to reassure them. "Nothing is going to happen, I have it all under control," I say.

"Great! We leave next week, and I'll be sure to go over all of the logistics that we usually take over before we leave. Now the only thing left is for me to tell everyone else," Sam says.

The day comes for Sam and Jay to leave, and I can't help but feel a little anxious about being left alone with such a responsibility. Thankfully, the first month has gone splendidly without any hiccups. As the first month draws to a close, I have begun to build strong bonds with the ghosts since I practically live with them now. Now Hetty allows me to watch Bodices and Barons with her, and she doesn't mind that she had to restart the series for me to catch up. Though I've been spending a lot of my time with the main 8, I find that I really enjoy my time with Hetty. We go on walks around the grounds. Surprisingly, Hetty tells me of her life growing up, and I relay stories of my own. Though we have grown up in vastly different time periods we are able to find some common ground. I remember when I mentioned a book that I wanted to read that was years out of print, Hetty surprised me by having Sam look for her original copy and allowing me to have it. Sam watched as Hetty smiled to herself as she watched me examine the book in great detail. Hetty tried to ignore that her heart skipped a beat when I gave her an award-winning smile and hugged her in gratitude.

In addition to building bonds, I discovered that I have more to my power than being able to reciprocate touch with the ghosts. I have found out that if I've touched a touching an item, the ghosts can temporarily use it. This new discovery has me spending time learning and singing songs with Alberta at the piano. Thor teaches me how to hunt with spears, and I help Flower catch butterflies in the mornings and fireflies in the evenings. Pete helps me with my archery, and he is amazed to find that I have a natural talent with a bow and arrow. He helps to set up harder obstacles which in turn helps my "hunts" in the woods with Thor. Sass helps me make homemade pizzas, and Trevor convinces me to invest in stocks.

Trevor and I also spend time playing games on the Nintendo Wii. He's trying to convince me to get a PlayStation so we can both play other sport-related games.

Isaac and I enjoy rewatching and quoting Jurassic Park movies. I recently ordered dinosaur figurines and dioramas for us to put together. We have actually just finished putting together the first dinosaur diorama. After we've talked about the next one to start, he retires to bed once he's sure I've safely put the completed one on the shelf. After he leaves, I ask for the "Alexa" to the orchestral version of "So This is Love" while I clean up the living room. I have yet to put the couch back in its usual place as Twister took up much of my free afternoon since no guests were booked for today. As I down the last bit of wine in my glass, I'm are startled by a voice.

"You seem to be quite at home," Hetty says entering the room.

"Oh dear," I say placing a hand on my chest," Sorry I didn't hear you come in. Do you want me to turn on Bodices and Barons for you? Isaac and I are finished for the night."

"No I'm quite alright, thank you" Hetty responds," I quite enjoy the music you're playing. It reminds me of the parties I used to throw and attend. If there's anything I miss, it's the dancing."

"You dance?" I blurt out quickly, " Sorry, that must be the wine talking. I didn't mean for that to come out as a surprise,"

Hetty smiles to herself, "Dancing and painting were my favorite pastimes."

As I set down my wine glass, I make a mental note to acquire paints, brushes, and canvas for Hetty the next time I go to the store.

"I wish I could dance. I mean I have rhythm, but I've learned how to formally," I tell her.

"Would you like me to teach you?" Hetty asks. Hetty isn't sure why she feels like she's holding her breath while waiting for me to answer. I notice her begin to secretly fidget with her hands.

"I would like that very much," I answer brushing my hands on the skirt of my sundress.

Hetty outstretches her hand and I place mu hand in hers.

"Now place your other hand on my shoulder, and I'll place my hand here," Hetty instructs. I feel her hand lightly touch mu lower back.

Soon Hetty and I effortlessly glide across the room in rhythm. Hetty does not miss a beat as the song changes to "Once Upon A Dream". Hetty continues to guide me through familiar steps occasionally adding new ones while Lana Del Rey's voice fills the room.

"I'm going to spin you now, be ready," Hetty warns.

but if i know you I'll know what you do you'll love me at once the way you did once upon a dream ah ah

Hetty and I giggle as she spins me out and pulls me back into her. Never have I found myself feeling so at peace with someone else. Hetty had expected you to be slightly clumsy after the wine, but she is amazed that you've managed to keep your wits about yourself.

"Fantastically done, (y/n). You are not a poor student after all," Hetty teases.

"And you are not a poor teacher either," I tease back. I look up from my feet to meet Hetty's gaze.

I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem

I feel my heart flutter while we hold each other's gaze. I've been this close to Hetty before, but I've never noticed that she smells of bergamot and white tea. If it weren't for the wine, I'd be intoxicated by her scent alone. I feel Hetty pull in a little closer, her thumb stroking the small of my back.

But if I know you, I know what you'll do You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

Our faces inch closer together, our lips almost touching when we hear Isaac begin to speak.

"(y/n), do you-," He watches Hetty and I quickly break apart "Am I interrupting something?”

Hetty wants so desperately to say yes, but she shakes her head no. She doesn't trust her words to not come out with a hint of irritation.

"Hetty was teaching me to dance," I glance towards Hetty to see her messing with the white collar of her dress. I'm almost certain I saw blush creep on her cheeks, but I blame my vision on the wine.

"I just wanted to ask if you knew how many guests we were expecting this week,"

"I'm not sure off the top of my, but I can for sure tell you in the morning," I tell him. Satisfied with that answer, Isaac bids us both good night and leaves.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'll retire as well," Hetty says turning to leave. I quickly grab her hand and she turns her head towards me, her eyes slightly wide in surprise at the gesture.

" Thank you for the dance, Hetty." I rush out unsure of what else to say. I do know that I just want a few more uninterrupted moments with her.

She squeezes my hand before saying, "You are very welcome my dear."

I quickly stand on the tips of my toes to place a kiss on Hetty's cheek. Before I can fully turn away, she spins me into her and kisses me once and then twice. Her hands cup the sides of mu face before pulling me in closer at the waist.

Hetty almost forgetting you're living, is the first to break apart to give you air, and she smirks as she hears you whimper at the loss. Hetty begins to admire her handiwork. How your lips are swollen and wet, and your eyes are still shut in a state of bliss. She reaches up and brushes her thumb across them. She presses one last chaste kiss to my lips.

"Good night, my dear," Hetty purrs in my ear before leaving me in the middle of the room breathless and stunned.

-END of Part 2-

A/N: I have rewritten this part so many times. Sorry for getting your hopes up about a Hetty ghost power! I'm not sure I want to give her one since hers is still unknown. But if I do I need to give her a kick-ass power, so I need time to think. See y'all in part 3!

[gabessquishytum]

Sorry for a non-horny request lol, but I am going crazy with this idea. This is not exactly romantic but it's upto you if you want to make it such.

Warning: major character death

Morpheus de Endless, is a grumpy old man, who has a number of health issues. He also happens to be a best selling author of all time but he does have some controversies surrounding him, most notedly his high profile divorce with a famous artist with whom he had a son but the baby died only a year later. It is said that Mr. De Endless excused himself from his public life after this incident, still that didn’t stop him from suffering a lot under Rodrick Burgess in whose publishing company he worked. Now, at the age of 65, Morpheus de Endless is an isolated man who only lets his doctor visit him once a week.

And then, his family decides that he needs a caretaker. A decision Morpheus absolutely hates because he can take care of himself, but still a care taker is hired. On Monday morning, a young man, probably in his late 20s or early 30s comes to his mansion and takes on all the responsibilities with ease. He is incharge of all the medicines, food (though Morpheus barely eats, taking Morpheus to parks to feed the birds and other things.

Morpheus doesn't like this new man, but he cannot argue with his elder sister about it anymore so he just settles on grumply leaving left over food on his plate or intentionally not having medicines.

Meanwhile, Hob is astonished by this man. It was as if a 10 year old lived in the body of a 60 something man. And Hob was trying really hard to make Mr. De Endless take care of himself, to keep himself alive. Because Hob knew, in fact on the first glance he knew, that Morpheus de Endless didn’t want to live anymore. So he tries his best.

Then one day, he blows up on Mr. De Endless, shouting that the man should at least try to look on the brighter side, to at least maintain a schedule instead of killing his body slowly everyday. And Morpheus understands miraculously. He doesn't like it, but to just make Hob’s job easier he improves his habits a bit. From here, things start getting easier, Morpheus genuinely enjoyes his trip to the park with Hob and even those conversations in the silence of the night in the comfort of his home office where Hob tells him about a family he had lost long ago and in return Morpheus tells him about his son, whom he dearly misses.

Now, here, either we can go for happy ending, or a bitter-sweet one. Personally I am all for some bitter-sweet cake so here we go: one morning, Morpheus wakes up and steals Hob’s bicycle. He has a camera with him which he used a lot in his youth and he uses it now after years to capture the beauty of modern London. He had not explored London like this in 20 years and his heart is full for the first time after losing his child. He also uses a pay phone to call his younger brother who lives in a separate country and they have a heartfelt conversation.

Then he returns home at evening only to be reprimanded by Hob and his elder sister for disappearing like that but Morpheus honestly doesn't mind. When the next morning Hob checks up on him he finds Morpheus dead in his bed. Of course a whole day of cycling for a man with heart conditions is bad news. But he did leave a letter behind for Hob, thanking him for making his last days better than ever.

Ah, thank you for sharing this with me!! It's such a sweet story. I really do love the idea of Hob being this positive spark in Morpheus’s life. He's retreated in on himself, grown used to being alone and become a little resentful of a world that doesn't seem to want him. Then Hob comes in with his stories, his gentle routine and his all around youthfulness. Morpheus finds it annoying: Hob is loud, careless, a little selfish. But then one day Hob has him sit down and flick through his old photos. And Morpheus recollects that he was also once loud, careless and selfish when he was young. He starts cutting Hob some slack, and Hob in turn also becomes more patient. He learns not to be frustrated by Morpheus’s moods, to be kind instead. They find things in common instead of bickering. Sometimes Hob stays the night with Morpheus and they talk about everything, or just fall asleep together. There's love between them now, and it really doesn't matter what kind of love. They both needed it.

Poor Hob. Losing Morpheus is so unexpected, because he was sure that despite his frailty he would live a little longer. He could have had 20 years. Hob sits with the birds and just cries and cries because he loves Morpheus so much and they barely even had a year together.

But he has the camera, and that evidence of Morpheus’s last day. Pictures of strangers and buildings and pigeons. They all mean so much and they're bursting with love. Hob will hang onto those. And he's not sure if and when, but one day he'll hold Morpheus’s hand again, and they'll look at the pictures together.

[24hrsoda]

I suppose this is a Ra's headcanon in a way! I also see Ra's as super tall!

He's a grumbler. People ask what he said, and he'll just wide-eyed those people.

I always saw him as a good man who went over the moral deep-end because of time. Like the whole 'I'd never want to live forever' sentiments don't exist for him. He's already had to have loved and lost endlessly. He's watched the world go through so many era, inventions. And he's seen all the death and corruption. And it's naturally easier to remember the bad than the good.

He has a BOOMING laugh! If you can manage to get him to laugh, he will rattle the room! Ra's laugh rubbed off a little onto Bruce back when. Scared poor Alfred half to death!

Ra's is a foodie! He loves a good cooked meal from a genuinely good cook! He loves all the way food has evolved over time, the different flavor profiles, and oh, don't get him started on 'way back when, there was no such thing as a 'shelf stable milk.' Milk is dairy, it must be kept cold! Talia, I am telling you, shelf stable milk is revolutionary! Tell me, daughter, has the purchasing of refrigerator milk skewed lower than-'

Dork!!! This guy, much like Bruce, is a dork/lovingly. Time makes you learn a looot if things. And Ra's is astonished by inventions, unfortunately he uses them also to try to better the world by horrible means, but he will also nerd out over learning about them. 'Talia, daughter, I have the best idea for our cause! This-! Hoho, this is a radio that allows someone to hear you from the other side! It's-!' 'A mobile phone? Yes, I am aware. Good lu-' 'No more telegraphing other bases, Morse code, messengers dying on the way. I just pick this up, extend the antenna, and-'

Always fabulous~! He has a GREAT fashion sense! Look at those locks! This man knows how to work that 1000's hair! Several centuries of fashion will lead you down the runway!

This got SO LONG, I apologize! [*Fades through the wall*]

~JasonTodd'sGhost 👻

You have fed me so well.

[xxmarcxline]

001 - THE GETAWAY CAR - “enchanted!”

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Wolfstar!Daughter!Reader

ENCHANTED MASTERLIST!

By no means do I support R*wling’s biased views! This profile is meant to be a safe space promoting escapism <3

TW: none ( although, please feel free to message me if you believe i missed some!! )

THE WEASLEYS’ FLYING CAR LET OUT A distant honk that broke the quiet of the woodland night. It drew your gaze off the several critters that chittered in annoyance as you set your sights on the sudden brightness from the other side of your window.

For two months—two months too long, Harry Potter had given you and everyone else no sign of life. He had yet to reply to any of the mountains of letters you, Ron, and Hermione had sent over the eight weeks that had passed.

That day at King’s Cross Station, he had asked everyone to keep in touch over the summer, that everyone (he not-so-subtly turned specifically to you, Hermione and Ron affirmed upon exchanging a silent gaze) remember to send their owls and exchange letters about everything and nothing at all. And that had been exactly what you did—that was the case for three of you, at least.

At first, golden boy’s silence had been, what you believed, was but a delay of Hedwig’s travel. Godric knows that poor owl would lack nutrition in a madhouse like the Dursleys. But as weeks, and eventually, months went by, all three of you had grown all the more concerned, eventually evoking this ingenious escapade.

“You have got to be joking!” you breathed, jaw slack in awe as you tugged your window open. “Please tell me at least one of you has a clue about what you’re doing. . .”

The redheads simply grinned, exchanging a humorous look between them, as though a joke had been told and you were the only one who lacked its context. Ron was leaning out of the back window of the old turquoise blue car, which was parked in midair.

“Stupid question,” he scoffed in amusement. “We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t, now would we?” His tone was almost incredulous as you stared at the three brothers, eyes blown wide and locks going a shade of bright blue and lilac.

The near-silent squeaks from the top of your head drew everyone’s attention to the little bowtruckle that had climbed from its original place on your shoulder. “Oh, ‘ello Bowie!”

The said creature only chittered angrily. Unlike your puffskein and that troublesome owl, Hermes, Bowie hadn’t been as pleased with the thought of sharing you. Having been present from when you were but a babe wrapped in blankets and to this day, stood in a sweater and trousers before the open windowsill, he has grown in your company and become an extension of you; leaving your side for Hogwarts had not been a choice, as he snuck into your pockets, just as he had every time you left the cottage.

“I was under the impression that we’d be flying there—”

“Exactly what we’re doing—” The twin sat in the driver’s seat (you believed it to be Fred) interjected dumbly.

“I meant on our brooms, you idiots!”

To that, they exchanged a baffled glance. To think they wondered how you’d known about their illegal flying contraption.

“Never you mind,” Ron shook his head, “Now come on! We’re burning moonlight!”

You only gazed at them for a moment more. It was an astonishing, and admittedly impressive sight. Without a thought of self-preservation, you climbed aboard the flying contraption, not a care in the world for the ground that promised great risk fifteen feet below you.

As the car took off and you glanced to where your father stood, waving you goodbye, you couldn’t help but fear that this would be the last you would see such a sight. While you trusted your friends deeply, you hadn’t a clue if your life was truly all that safe in their fumbling hands.

“You wouldn’t happen to have some form of insurance, would you?” you gazed at Ron’s elder twin brothers, who grinned at you from over their shoulders. “And what the bloody hell is that supposed to be, little Miss Mood Ring?”

To that, you could only sigh, gazing down with pursed lips as Bowie moved to hide within your sweater’s pocket.

This was going to be a particularly long night.

Time passed rather quickly for the four Gryffindors, blanketed from Muggle eyes by the car’s invisibility feature.

Meanwhile, at number four, Privet Drive, Harry Potter dreamed he was on show, in a zoo, with a card reading ‘UNDERAGE WIZARD’ attached to his cage. People goggled through the bars at him as he lay, starving and weak, on a bed of straw. He saw Dobby, the house elf from earlier in the crowd, and shouted out, asking for help, but Dobby called, “Harry Potter is safer there, sir!” and vanished. Then, he saw you, effortlessly pretty with your bowtruckle atop your head as always, gliding through the crowd unbothered, clueless of his struggle. He wanted to call out to you, beg for you to save him, when the Dursleys appeared and Dudley rattled the bars of the cage, mocking his pleas.

“Stop it,” Harry muttered as the rattling pounded in his sore head. “Leave me alone. . . cut it out. . . Please. . .” your name spilled his lips as he muttered in his sleep.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on his window. And someone—rather, a pair of familiar faces were giggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long-nosed someone alongside the very face he had subconsciously conjured and yearned to see again.

Ron Weasley and [Y/N] Black-Lupin were outside Harry’s window.

TAG LIST 🏷️

@mythicalmo @jjsblueberry @edmundstxrch

( Leave a comment if you wish to be added to future tag lists ^^ )

[avesmonster]

let's talk about KEPLER i have a theory that he got the eccentric half of his personality from jacobi. because he acts totally different depending on who he's talking to. first of all:

the way cutter says this implies that kepler never jokes around with them. he's like "YOU'VE got to be kidding cause that's nothing like kepler at all" even though we've all heard kepler tell that fuckign pig joke and also just about everything else he says in s3

and we know he's scared of cutter (this is when the sol manifests out of nothign)

and that he's ALWAYS been scared of cutter. throwback to kansas

so it makes sense he wouldn't be all silly goofy around Scary Man Number One (he also doesn't seem to be very unafraid of pryce. not even rachel is unafraid of pryce but that's a different topic). so he's only silly when he's COMFORTABLE...... and that said i'll circle back around to this later

first thing with jacobi i wanna point out is that he was the one who taught kepler questions only. which seems to be the best thing that has ever happened to kepler why is he so enthused about this game

and then at the end of no complaints

this really makes it sound like jacobi pranks kepler all the time but it's totally unthinkable that Kepler would ever prank him back. Jacobi is so astonished by this (and idk what the Duck Thing was but. whatever it is it apparently wasn't a prank)

anyway it would make sense that jacobi plays around at work a lot because. his profile literally says he does

and kepler seems to highly value this trait of jacobi's. first by enjoying his sarcasm and then when he tells eiffel that jacobi is a smart man for telling eiffel to lighten up

and all the way up to dirty work, kepler is his usual silly and irritating self. even when he's taken captive and down a hand, he keeps joking around. and playing twenty questions with people. and overall being a smug little jackass

until... dirty work happens. and something shifts in kepler. something MAJOR because once jacobi turns on him, his whole demeanor and brain chemistry changes in under 24 hours

he's completely serious after this. he has a few bantery lines but otherwise, he's all business, and he's SCARED, and he's not interested in joking around with anyone anymore. he's stuck pretending to be on cutter's side and that means he has to act NORMAL--apparently his "normal" doesn't include being a silly little man

and like,, he honest to god didn't think jacobi was upset with him. which is a whole other thing i could talk about but for the purposes of this argument, it really is the Exact Moment that he realizes he lost jacobi's support that his personality makes the shift. when he still THOUGHT jacobi was on his side, even after getting his ass kicked by everyone on the station and bob, after being completely humiliated he STILL acts smug and unserious. like i cannot overstate the shift that happens in this man during dirty work i really can't

so going back to kansas. which is the only scene we have of him before he met jacobi. he was very rigid, nervous, and angry. and that's ALL he was. also

he's just a man who wants to be taken seriously. apparently

which,, the life he built came at a pretty ridiculously steep cost. so yeah, i guess he WOULD want to be taken seriously. it's not like he has anything else

he's an empty shell. he's a manipulator, too--he knows how imitate people around him to make them comfortable. He emulates Cutter to the point of making his job his whole personality. It's not out of the question that he would pick up some personality traits from jacobi, the man who's been glued to his side for six years. especially when he's around jacobi and he's having fun. jacobi likes having fun!! so kepler can do that too!! he can imitate people and be just like a real boy!!

going back to no complaints once more, kepler is all business that whole time. other than when he gets really excited about questions only. and of course when it was revealed it was all a prank--even then he didn't do any kind of big reveal, he just?? "Yes I Pranked You" RIGID. happy though :) and that was only one year into knowing each other. he likes the games jacobi taught him and he liked playing that prank and he liked planning a,, frankly EXCESSIVE first anniversary party with his subordinate but i digress, he's still kinda flat in no complaints but it seems like he's having a bit of a shift?? he's having fun with jacobi. he doesn't have fun with anyone else--not really, not when jacobi isn't somewhere in the same building and on his side

and since jacobi has a whole philosophy about "work shouldn't be separate from play," it's implied that he plays pranks on kepler, and implied that he's always getting into trouble--idk, to me it really feels like kepler absorbed some of jacobi's personality over the years. for funsies <3

thanks for coming to my kepler talk he's all i ever think about

[poguesarerogues]

Smitten Art piece

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe X genderless reader

Word Count: 894

Warnings: obsessive behavior, slight yandere-like themes

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lecture was long and boring. He had no business in judging anyone who chose to block out the monotonous ramblings of the instructor as they went on and on about one particular plant whose poison could be used to put people in a coma. Even he had chosen to direct his attention to something more worth his while. A drawing.  He was a master of drawing… or at least, that’s what everyone made it seem like who knew of his talent. He’s constantly drawing. Drawing, drawing, and drawing some more. It’s almost as if he had been born with a pencil and paint brush in his hands. Being a student of Nevermore only served to project the ‘tortured artist’ stereotype onto him even further than it would elsewhere. He loved to draw and paint. It takes his mind off of everything and everyone going on around him. All the problems of the world and in his life disappear when he picks up a pen and lets the ink bleed into the paper before his eyes.

Recently there has been one thing in particular that he has enjoyed drawing. One person actually. He’s plagued with images of this being. His mind is unable to think of anything else until an entire paper or canvas is covered, corner to corner, with the object of his recent infatuation. You!

Only Wednesday is aware of just how far down the rabbit hole he has fallen in regard to thinking about you. His obsession has reached the point that many drawing pads have been filled, front to back, with images of your face or points in time where he has captured your beauty as you go about doing whatever it is that you choose to do during your time at Nevermore or when you’re in Jericho. There are more drawings and painting than he, nor anyone else, would ever wish to count.

Xavier denies that he’s way too far in over his head with sealing your beauty into an immortalized form with his artwork but, considering it has only been three weeks since you arrived to campus and he has gone this far already without even officially meeting you, he doesn’t find it any bit surprising to know that if anyone else were to find out about this he’d likely be penalized with a restraining order.

And so he drawing silently, his eyes flitting in your direction oh so frequently. He wants to capture every detail perfectly without getting caught. He can’t make it obvious. So he makes his glances quick and discrete.

He sits one aisle behind you today. How unfortunate it is that someone had chosen to take your seat for that lecture day without any particular reason. At least his sits on the opposite end of the classroom though so that he can still capture the beauty of your side profile from behind. He works quickly to get every detail of your face and body onto the paper. The time limit of the lecture inching closer to bringing his project to an end with each passing second. Each second feeling far less than that to the stressed artist. Of course, he knows that he could still finish the piece even after the bell has rung but there’s something about beginning and finishing within such a limited timeframe that makes him feel accomplished when he’s capable of pulling the quest off.

If only each lecture that he had with you could be longer!

As he finalized the details of your uniform the dreaded bell rings. He has no choice but to quickly close up his sketch book before any students can see. Some of them are already headed out the door while others struggle to get out of their seats as they shove their notebooks and other belongings into backpacks or wrestle them into a position between their arms and ribcages to carry them out the door. When he looks your way Xavier sees that you are beginning to head out of class. He’s always astonished with how quickly you can get around despite how crowded areas of nevermore can get during times like this. Once his sketch book is between his arms, he briskly begins to exit the classroom. He hopes to see your evading figure for just a second before the two of you must separate for the rest of the day. Screw whoever made up your schedule! He wishes he had more classes with you.

Unfortunately, Xavier finds no luck in seeing you before he reaches the hall that leads to his next class. With a sigh of discontent, he pauses momentarily in the hallway, looking down the direction that he knows you’ve gone. If only he could follow.

With a quick huff he resumes his journey to his next class.

He may not have anymore classes with you for the day but he knows that you’ll be going to the fair tonight. He’s planned it for so long. Tonight he’ll finally introduce himself and you’ll be smitten with him just like he is with you. If not, Wednesday will help him with his endeavors to make you interested in the loner elitist boy at school.

One way or another, you two will meet, and Xavier will make damn sure that you become just as infatuated with him as he is with you.