#It’s hard to even hold a pen in this weather (excuse

[vita940124]

First time cooking

[merakiui]

mera im curious...what is the most pathetic and desperate virgin concept u can come up with for any boys you choose in twst??

I have so many that I will try to write pathetic virgin concepts for each twst guy!!! >:)

✧ Riddle who gets off to your notes. It doesn't matter how messy or neat they may be, how filled or lacking the page may be, or even how useful they may be if the exam covering that material has already happened. He knows it's wrong to have pilfered your notebook, but he couldn't help it and he assured himself he'd give it back under the pretense of having found it (which isn't entirely a lie). He sits back in his chair and flips slowly through the pages, not particularly reading the material you've written, as he idly fucks into his hand and pictures diligent you, sitting in class and penning notes. There are doodles in the margins of the pages: cute flowers, smiley faces, hearts, what looks to be Grim. He thinks about how you hold your pen, how you might chew on the cap when you're bored, how your hands also touched this very notebook... Great Seven, he's a mess.

✧ Trey who is so strangely fixated on your teeth and mouth. At first it was cute because he's so serious about dental hygiene, what with how he ensures Ace and Deuce brush their teeth properly. But with you it's different. When you smile, he pictures your teeth in his shoulder or your mouth on his neck, pressing kisses or sucking fresh marks into his skin. And when you're eating, he notes the way you lick your fork or spoon clean every time and it gives him such a vivid image of you giving his dick the cutest, most gentle kitten licks. He has to excuse himself before anyone finds out he's painfully hard. >_<

✧ Cater who gets off to the many selfies and photos he's taken with and of you. Sometimes he scours the other students' Magicam accounts to look at the photos they've posted of you and his mind runs wild with thoughts and what-ifs. That photo of you sitting between the twins during their birthday party has him wondering if they fucked you on that very couch after the festivities had worn down. Or that photo of you and Kalim sopping wet after the both of you got caught in the rain... He's zooming in to see if the rain's made your uniform shirt see-through all while thinking about how you and Kalim may have warmed up. Cater can't seem to look at pictures of you without thinking about sex, and it's even worse when he sees the pictures he's taken of you and him. A spaghetti scene you recreated from a popular romance film has him imagining what could have happened had you just leaned in a little closer. Or that one alchemy mishap in which you were turned into a tiny fairy for the day... if he put you in a jar....... :)

✧ Ace who gets off on teasing you. They say partial truths often lie in the joke, and Ace sure does love joking about very specific things when it comes to you. He drives you mad every time, but because the two of you are close friends he gets away with it. He sticks his fingers in your mouth when you yawn to prod at your tongue, all while saying, "If you keep yawning like that, flies are gonna get in your mouth~" Or he'll squeeze your hip after you've eaten sweets just to mess with you. Or he compares your hand to his (for some odd reason) just so he can get away with touching you. Or he shows you a card trick that ends with him tucking the card behind your ear rather than pulling it from that area. His teasing feels more like flirting, but anyone who notes this is earned a swift denial from Ace.

✧ Deuce who gets off to the domestic moments in your friendship. Sharing a mirror in Ramshackle when he spends the night, preparing meals for each other, and even walking to class and talking about very boring things (like the weather). It makes him feel so special, and sometimes he pretends the two of you are a married couple. Deuce gets so embarrassed if anyone points this out, especially the elderly who see the two of you in town and comment on how cute you look together. He adamantly denies it, but later he's in the bathroom imagining married life with you and it gets him so worked up.

✧ Leona who gets off on the power imbalance between the two of you. Realistically speaking, he's stronger, both in terms of social class (after all, he's royalty) and also physically and financially. But that doesn't matter as much as it does when he's around you. Despite all of this, you know how to match Leona's wit, always keeping him on his toes, and you treat him as you would others even while knowing just how much power he has over you should he choose to exert it. Leona just likes the feeling of being number one in your world. Possibly a little too much, considering it never fails to get him excited. :)

✧ Ruggie who gets off on sneaking up on you. At first it was to pickpocket you. Steal spare change for himself or take your wallet just to watch you panic when you can't find it, but he's come to love the way you turn around just in time to catch him. He knows he does this on purpose solely to get caught, but seeing how you huff and glare lightheartedly at him... the way you purse your lips or the way you snatch your things back and laugh softly about how he ought to try again next time... He doesn't even care about your wallet anymore. He just wants to hunt you down and catch you for himself. You're the real prize here. <3

✧ Jack who gets off to your difference in size and strength. At first it wasn't something he thought of, but then you come to him and beg him to help open jars or stuck windows and he does it so easily. He refuses to believe you're struggling that hard with it, but then he watches you attempt to open a jar and it all clicks into place. Oh, you're...really cute and small and so fragile compared to him, who's all muscle and raw strength. Jack knows you have your own strengths and in no way does he think you're weak, but he's always reminded of your size and strength differences whenever the two of you are doing things together: training/sports, lifting heavy things (which are often very light to him), and even standing side by side. He thinks about how much bigger he is and he feels so flustered when those thoughts get him hard.

✧ Azul who gets off to your body language. He knows what it means; he's studied human customs well in advance before coming up to the surface. But oh you tempt him every single time you arch your back when you stretch or when you yawn and make such cute, sleepy sounds. It's even worse when you bend over to reach for something across a table or bend down to grab something that fell. He's digging his nails into his palms to steady himself, but that doesn't mean his thoughts are steady. He may look entirely composed with his usual smile, but in his mind you're getting fucked six ways from Sunday. You can't give this man any gifts because 1) he'll scramble to pay you back and 2) he'll delude himself into thinking it's a courting gesture and that you want him sooooo badly each time you offer him a snack from the school store or give him something you think he could get more use out of.

✧ Jade who gets off to your banter, especially the threats. Great Seven, you tell him you'll gut him and turn him into eel sushi and OOOOOO he's on the edge of his seat like: "yes...... and?? and????? what else will you do to me?????" all with the wildest, sharpest smile you've ever seen him make. He gets so worked up, so flushed in the face, so terribly aroused, every time you threaten him with anything. Yank him down to your height and mutter a threat, whether outlandish, violent, or something as silly as "I hope both sides of your pillow are hotter than hell," and he's saving these interactions in his memory for later recollection.

✧ Floyd who gets off on your praise. Call him a good boy or congratulate him on his test score or cheer for him at basketball practice and he's over the moon with excitement. He eats up your praise like it's his last meal. Say more good things to him! He wants to hear Shrimpy's praise every day, and when he's in a bad mood all it takes is the memory of you saying he's done well and he's back to his usual excitable self. He likes your praise a little too much, as evidenced by how hard it gets him. orz he spends too long thinking about it while he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling while he lazily strokes himself to thoughts of you calling him a good boy.

✧ Kalim who gets just a little too worked up at your proximity. He makes for such good best friend material. It's natural you'd be drawn to him because he's just so sweet and friendly. So it's completely normal when you spend the night at Scarabia and you end up falling asleep beside him in the common room, or when he feeds you outright because that's just how he is! He wants you to try all manner of yummy foods. It makes his heart race faster when your lips close around his fingers or you unconsciously snuggle up to him. He loves you so much. orz

✧ Jamil who loves your obedient nature. It has him horny gripping every time you scramble to do well on a test or in class so you won't upset the professors. You try to keep out of trouble because you're a good student, and he loves every bit of it. He wants to ruin you, take your obedience for the professors and twist it so that you'll only ever listen to him, follow what he says, trust in his words. He could just hypnotize you and maybe a sick part of him wants that. Maybe he wants to experience what an entirely obedient, cock-drunk (Name) is like...

✧ Vil who uses his professional opinions as a way to feel you up. He runs his hands up your sides to smooth wrinkles in your uniform out, all while reminding you to take care of your appearance. He fixes your tie just to get close enough to smell your perfume or shampoo. He loves how you lean into him, trusting his judgement because Vil could never lead you astray. Secretly, Vil's just getting away with every touch under the guise of giving you advice or fixing your uniform or even getting measurements for tailored outfits for school events. It's much too easy.

✧ Rook who, unsurprisingly, gets off on stalking you. He's such a creep! He watches you from afar and gets hard over the smallest things. It's likely because you're so vulnerable and unaware when you go about your daily life and he gets to invade such a secret slice of your life. Whether you know he's watching you or not, it doesn't matter. Just the idea that, on some level, you might be able to feel his prying eyes gets him so unfathomably excited.

✧ Epel who loves a good competition and gets so into it if it's a competition between you and him. Whether it's something athletic or academic, he's always ready to engage in a friendly competition with you. Unfortunately, when you smirk at him and tell him he'll need to give it his all, he gets excited in...other areas. To think all it took was some competitive banter and your smirk to have the blood rushing downwards... T_T if he loses this competition, is the punishment a make-out session? Epel can certainly dream.

✧ Idia who is too scared to talk to you in person, so he codes a Magicord bot he uses as a practice dummy. But then things get a little out of hand when innocent chats turn explicit and soon he's role-playing with the false you. Idia knows it's not real, but it feels real when you tell him all the things he wants to hear. It's shameless e-sex, but it's the best (and only) e-sex of Idia's life. ;;;; he feels immensely embarrassed afterwards.

✧ Malleus who gets off on your smiles. It's such an innocent thing, but then it has him thinking so deeply about it late into the night. You're so sweet and precious. He could picture your smiles all day... Malleus loves you more than words can possibly describe. He thinks about the little things that make you so wonderful, but most of all it's how expressive you are when you smile. Sometimes he has a habit of letting his thoughts stray into intimate fantasies, but it's nothing terrible. He wants to love you wholeheartedly; that includes physically.

✧ Lilia who gets off on surprising you and subverting your expectations. He finds it so darling when you have certain assumptions about him, only to be entirely wrong when he disproves them. Though he's oh-so-cute (a fact he would never deny), there's more beneath that adorable veneer. He's a mysterious who loves popping in to startle you when you least expect it. Be it in the library or in the halls, he always finds you. And your shock is a sight he drinks in merrily.

✧ Silver who is so enthralled by everything about you, so no matter what you do it always makes him feel so in love and fluffy. He's never known this sort of love before, but he's always so honest about his feelings and so his attraction to you wouldn't be any different. You could be napping peacefully in class and Silver's watching you from across the room with the softest, sweetest smile on his face. He thinks about you day and night; you even fill his dreams. Most of it is entirely normal and innocent, but then all it takes is for someone to suggest something less-than-pure about you and suddenly Silver's thoughts are derailing. Oh, he's never thought about sex before. But sex with you? That seems very appealing, so much so that he's feeling much hotter than before. ;;;;

✧ Sebek who, in spite of everything, gets off to the fact that you're human. There's just something so...appealing to you. He struggles to put it into words (and he almost doesn't want to), but you're so soft and sweet and enticing. Maybe Sebek secretly likes your being human because it makes you seem weaker by some strange default? But then he dwells on this and that doesn't seem to be the reason. Truthfully, Sebek likes your humanity because it's charming. Because there's something about you that feels and smells different. Maybe it's because you're the first human to make him feel so aroused that he deems you worthy of his own affections, or maybe he's just hopelessly, pathetically in love with all of the things that make you human and he's trying so hard to deny that.

✧ Rollo who gets off to your scent. Maybe it's a perfume you wear or maybe it's your natural scent. Whatever it is, he's carefully borrowing insignificant items that smell just like you so that he can hold them up to his nose while he masturbates. You're just so perfect and your scent drives him crazy and he feels like a filthy pervert each time he does this, but it's too late to stop. He's already in so deep. Just your scent alone has him shuddering through messy orgasms; imagine what you'd do to him if you were here in person and he got to touch you...

✧ Neige who gets off to indirect kisses. When you share a spoon or bite from the same snack, his pulse is racing at the prospect of having indirectly kissed you. He's so eager and excited that he has to try so hard not to let his face get so flushed with arousal. And you're so relaxed about it! You're so cool... He could admire you forever. <3

✧ Che'nya who gets off on watching you when he's invisible. It gets him hard every time he catches you in an intimate or compromising situation. Whether you're bathing or changing or masturbating, it makes it all the more tempting when he's completely invisible and you have no idea someone else is in the room with you. He's thought about pressing himself against you when you least expect it just to feel you flinch or to hear your breath hitch. And then there's the thought of fucking you when he's invisible, where you'll only see yourself stretching around a cock that isn't visible to your eye. >:)

[decadentpandawasteland]

Prompt:I picked my journal up. I hadn't written in it for so long, I had no idea where to start.

It was weathered and worn, and the leather binding was aged and cracked from years of keeping it open. The paper inside had begun to yellow slightly. A single ribbon stuck to the top of the book binding acted as a bookmark two-thirds of the way through. The front embossing had faded throughout the years, the only word on the front barely visible but could easily be felt with fingertips, “Journal”.

“What's that, Dad?” Ethan asked, watching me handle the worn book. He was my oldest, always eager to learn but starting to become ashamed of his eagerness. An average teenager in his sophomore year. Unruly but eager, a leader but a follower, a child who thinks adulthood is a time frame, not a mindset.

“One of my old journals,” I said, flipping through the pages. I picked a random page and glanced over it. “I was never good about writing dates, but I saw it mentioned Mr. Woodard, so it's either from my freshman or sophomore year.”

“Wait, really? Why were you journaling then?” Ethan asked, his eyes wide.

I let out a little laugh, “Honestly, I'm not even sure anymore. That was almost twenty years ago buddy. I had a full head of hair, just like you then.” I said, running a hand through the thinnest part of my non-existent hairline. Ethan made a face of absolute horror, his curly brown locks were his most prized possession.

An ancient urge, long forgotten in my mind, had me find a pen. “It's been so long since I've done it, I wouldn't even know where to start.” I thought to myself. Opening it up to the bookmarked page, I read through my old entry. Luckily this one was dated.

November 10

I saw her in class again today. We even talked for a little bit! I couldn't tell you at all what it was about, I just kept getting lost in looking at her. Señor Inglès yelled at us for interrupting class, but I didn't care. It felt good. Hopefully I'll get some actual courage to talk to her about things other than Spanish class.

It's been about two months since the whole thing with mom. Dad isn't holding up too well. Lana came back from college early to help out. I just want to stay out of the way. I really miss her.

A few wet stains were on the page. Losing mom was rough, especially on Dad. They had been together since high school, and the cancer ravaged through her in less than a year. Even to this day, I miss my mom. But at least Dad's with her now too.

I skipped ahead.

Dec. 18

Out for winter break and it finally started snowing. Dad finally started getting out of the house. He needs it. Before school let out I asked Rachel “¿Saldrias conmigo?” while we were practicing conversational skills in Spanish. She just responded with “Me preguntaba cuando preguntarias. Sì.” I was so blindsided, I just assumed she said no! We decided to go see Christmas lights on Christmas Eve at Stanley Park. Corny, I know, but hey it's who I am. Miss you mom.

Pen in hand, I added a new entry.

March 16

Saying it's been too long is an understatement. Around twenty five years, give or take. Rachel and I got married and we have a son, Ethan. He reminds me a lot of me at his age. He's hopeful and curious, questions everything but just a little too shy to be outspoken about it. Mom, you would have adored him, but I'll let Dad fill you in on all of the stories. He better tell you about when Ethan was six and demanded to be allowed to eat the wasabi at Tsunami Sushi.

Rachel and I are doing as well as we can be. I never realized how hard marriage is, but in the end it's worth it. For some reason every day she gets up and chooses to be with my grumpy ass, if you'll excuse my language Mom. The easiest choice I ever make is waking up and choosing her, and choosing this life. I wish we didn't have to be packing up the old house, but I'll make sure Rachel and I help build the memories of our little family. Even if Lana likes to be a fun party aunt a little more than I'd like her to be, but hey, it's her life to choose. I love you and miss you more than you know.

Oh, by the way, we haven't told anyone yet, but Ethan is going to be an older brother! I wanted to tell you two first. I love you.

- R.

I closed the journal and Rachel came up behind me. She kissed my cheek and I watched her slightly graying hair fall down around her shoulder. A flash of seeing her sitting at her desk, freshman year in Spanish class. She looked even more beautiful now than she did then.

“Ready to go?” She asked, giving me a hug.

“Yeah, I think so.” I closed the journal. Ethan came over and we walked out the front door.

As we walked out, I poked Ethan with the journal before asking, “Hey buddy, have you thought about journaling?”

[bosspigeon]

saw this on the character design prompt list but

“stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?”

for your oc’s?

Gonna do my TCM boys since they're my newest ones in need of some developing!

Jude plays with his hair a lot! tugs it, twists it around his fingers, runs his fingers through it. he's always got one curl hanging in his face bc he's always messing with it. he tries not to fidget so much otherwise, bc he's a big guy and when someone his size fidgets, people notice. and, yeah! clothing plays a big part in it! he prefers loose, kind of shapeless stuff, and likes to be As Covered As Possible, weather permitting, he's usually wearing multiple layers and long pants, though he will wear tanks and things in the summer if it's too hot. not too fond of restrictive, form-fitting stuff, mostly bc it's hard to find formal/semi-formal/business clothes that are his size that fit him well, so there's always too much tension in like the waist/shoulders 😩

Larimar ALSO plays with his hair a lot. they also resist the urge to bite their nails by spending like an hour on fancy acrylics. he also fidgets with his phone or a compact mirror a lot, kind of constantly checks their reflection, adjust hair/makeup. ofc gotta have that like... tinted lip balm, so they have an excuse to constantly reapply. and YEAH clothes absolutely affect how he holds himself, bc Larimar's appearance is Everything to them, so what he's wearing is something he puts a ton of thought into. helps w their confidence to Look Good, standing as tall as they're capable of (platforms help), typically posed in a Very Deliberate way! when he's at home, tho, it's time for comfy shorts, no makeup, and relaxation, and god help you if you try to come over during chill time

Frits Is A Pen Clicker. he's usually pretty still when he's resting, but his hands usually aren't! drums his fingers, clicks a pen, taps it against surfaces. if he's really antsy, his leg jiggles. when he's working on something particularly focused, it's just Constant Pen Clicking good lord. it's a good thing he mostly works from home, bc he is INSUFFERABLE if you've got to be near him and you also want to get work done. he's at least able to be fairly relaxed no matter what he's wearing! takes a lot to ruffle him. he's also the type that NEEDS to get up and get dressed like he's going somewhere even if he's working from home. keeps his brain in the zone. and the second he's Off The Clock, it's Time For Sweatpants

Lux is actually like... Eerily serene? If he's relaxed, he's basically perfectly still, though he's very observant and likes to people watch, so he's usually looking around himself! if he needs to fidget, he's usually on his phone, maybe playing a puzzle game, or reading! And like Fritz, he's fairly comfortable no matter what he's wearing, but his bearing does change if it's like... more casual wear or his "work" attire (ie lingerie or leather >:3c) bc Lux off the clock is a very sweet, friendly person, and Work Lux is still fairly gentle, but stern and focused

Koli is literally NEVER still or quiet. Humming, mumbling to himself, tongue clicking/popping, foot tapping, fingers drumming or snapping. if he's trying to keep still, he is mauling his nails or chewing the inside of his cheeks or lips raw. If he's really nervous, he's got a bit of an issue with skin-picking, too. He also tends to wear As Little Clothing as he can get away with, and when he's gotta be fully dressed in Normal clothes he gets more fidgety than ever. He likes flexible, comfortable, and soft clothes, and scratchy/stiff fabrics drive him insane, and make it so he can't really focus on anything around him

[dimepdf]

IT’S NOT LIVING — ANDREW!PETER PARKER

summary | Peter was having difficulty balancing being in a committed relationship with you and being Spiderman.

pairing: peter parker x reader

genre: very angsty, lovers to strangers

length: 1.5k words

cw: no nwh spoilers, gender-neutral reader, Andrew’s Peter suffering once more, someone give that man a hug, you’re his MJ, one-sided pinning, mentions of cheating  

song(s) to listen to: It’s not living (if it’s not with you) by The 1975

a/n | I hope all of Andrew's fans are in TEARS as a result of this. Now I'm basing my recent fanfics on songs.

masterlist. / taglist. / any request?

He falls asleep during conversations.

“Peter.” 

The white man flinched, his eyes widening as a sudden smile creaked on his face.

Peter sat with his head on top of his folded arms, slouching to lean against the library desk. Across from him sat you, the light of his life despite the irritated scowl on your lips.

“Were you even listening Parker?” Uh oh, you were using his last name, which suggested he made a mistake.

He wouldn't have taken the warning seriously if he hadn't loved hearing his name slip from your lips or seeing you roll your eyes. as well as watching you bring the pen you were holding to your lips, the gesture caused him to reposition himself in his chair.

“Of course, I was listening, I would pay just to hear you talk all day if it might I could hear you say my name like that again.” 

He's gotta search the street when he's on vacation.

He couldn't get rid of the nervousness that made his ears ring or the way he fidgeted in place while holding your hand.

You assumed his nervous state was due to the new environment, the vacation being a gift that you both worked for, and given how recently anxious Peter had been working at the newspaper.

You wanted to do something to take his mind off his overly cluttered schedule. Something that brought you two back together again, missing the times when you two would just mess around in each other's company.

You planned the trip without telling him, assuming it wouldn't be too difficult to travel from New York to Florida for weeks.

He had worked hard enough to be able to take some time off, so you called ahead of time to ensure that he could use some of his vacation time without his knowledge.

You thought spending time together in the hot weather would be a good idea, but Peter couldn't seem to get his mind off whatever was bothering him the entire time. You sighed as you noticed him lost in thought again, clutching the ring box in your pocket.

maybe now wasn’t the best time…

And all I do is sit and think about you

Peter couldn't pull it off. That man was struggling to balance his two lives, being Spiderman and your boyfriend, and he noticed how distant you two were from each other.

You were also the one to come to him for something or reach out when it came to your relationship, which he appreciated because he didn't have to give his full attention knowing that you'd always be there when he was done doing what he needed as Spiderman. 

But he could tell you were giving up on him recently; he knew you were tired of putting in your all just to spend time with him before he would stumble into his apartment sore and tired.

Or simply stopped him when he made excuses for standing you up on dates you reminded him of weeks in advance.

You were slipping away, unaware that even when he was away fighting bad guys in his secret life, he was still too distracted to do his job with you and as Spiderman properly.

and I know you think you’re sly but you need some imagination 

He felt the way you tensed as your phone chimed by your lap, refusing to flip your phone upward to even take notice of the notification.

A pit formed in the bottom of his stomach as the device ding again, watching as you picked it up and placed it against your nightstand. 

Still lying face down He reasoned that if he forgot about it, the numbing sensation that had settled in his brain would go away.

He'd just forget about how you shifted away from him moments later to answer the unexpected phone call that you left to answer in another room.

He tried to stop himself from trailing after you overheard the conversation that irritated him.

You were talking to someone else, someone he didn't know the name of or how you and he met without his knowledge. You used to tell him about everyone you met, but now he felt like a stranger in your life. 

“who was that?” 

You avoided his stare by crawling against the mattress with your phone in hand, returning to cuddling against his side.

Peter stopped you before you could reach out to touch him, crossing his arms and sitting against your headboard, his gaze redirected to the movie that was now playing for deaf ears.

“A friend, just asking if we could hang out tomorrow”

“I thought we had something planned for tomorrow?” 

The question caught you off guard, and you looked up at Peter, perplexed.

You could tell something was wrong with him by the way he sat just to avoid making eye contact with you, or by the way, he bit the dead skin from his lips. He was envious, as evidenced by his posture. 

Knowing that Peter would usually stand you up whenever you made plans to spend time together, you weren't bothered with the task any longer.

Finding it mentally taxing to constantly remind him that he needed to keep the time in his schedule to hang out with you. 

So, naturally, you stopped making plans, reasoning that it would be better for you both to find time to hang out naturally within your schedules.

Of course, the plan failed; if anything, it gave Peter the idea that he could spend more time as Spiderman, leaving you alone.

“We do?”

“Yeah, let’s do something tomorrow I’ve missed hanging out with you” 

all I do is sit and drink without you.

Peter messed up.

He got carried away again, taking care of other people's problems while swinging through the streets, fixing whatever he could get his hands on.

He noticed the time had passed midnight just moments before assisting a woman in returning her stolen bike, allowing time to get the best of him.

His heart skipped a beat when he realized he was supposed to spend the night at your house, as he promised last night.

Swinging to your house with a speed he never imagined he could achieve, only to realize it was too late. He was about to walk up to your apartment when he noticed you walking out the building's doors.

He felt his heart drop, dipping behind the corner and peeking around the corner to see you walking in the opposite direction with another guy by your side.

“He always does this it’s fine, it’s just how Peter is” You were talking about him to the guy, and the guy knew Peter's name but didn't know his something that was entirely his fault, but he couldn't swallow the fact that you were busy making excuses for him.

if I choose then I lose. 

“I’m spiderman.” 

The confession was a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that had settled within your bedroom; only moments before, you and your partner had been yelling at each other.

Just moments ago, you and Peter were arguing about the guy he couldn't get his mind off of; he had been trying all day to shake his mind off of the nameless virus that he was blaming for your absence, and he accused you of things he would never have expected you to do.

While speaking from a place of rage and heartbreak, he was doing the same to yours.

“Well, when you see Peter Parker tell him that I can’t do this anymore.” 

distract my brain from the terrible news.

Peter knew stalking you on social media was a toxic thing to do.

It had been two years since he told you he was Spiderman and two years since you broke off your relationship, leaving him in his own head.

It took him months to discover that you had begun dating the nameless man who seemed to sweep you off your feet at just the right time.

He also discovered his name was Harry, and you two worked for the same company, apparently meeting through work, and he had been smitten with you ever since.

The only difference between Harry and Peter was that Harry actually treated you like he was. 

It took Peter a few more years to realize Harry's true identity, the rage he felt when he discovered the man you were in love with was the cause of your untimely death, he was a monster who fed off of other people's suffering.

He wanted to smack that smug look off his face when he proudly boasted about taking you away from him, saying that lying to you was the easiest thing he'd ever done.

“thanks to you [y/n] never knew what a real relationship was, you just made it so easy for me to kill them” 

it’s not living if it’s not with you 

“I became bitter and stopped pulling my punches. I became full of rage.” 

notes: Hopefully the users below don’t mind that I’m tagging them in literally all my Andrew!Peter fanfics for now on.

— taglist: @tsukishimawhore  @meowkinq @denkisdurag @lolalora​ @thatbaepizzalover @​louderfortheback @cxnismajcr​ 

[143-cupid]

Where do the hours go. . .

♡ When I'm with you? ♡

♡.Obey me!

♡♡.SFW!! MDI with this post or my blog!!

♡♡��. betterized version of this post

. . . L U C I F E R !

♡ I don't believe he's as busy as the fandom makes him

♡ He's fairly busy with a hour/two of free time to spare after meals

♡ Once a week, he'd slip away to spend time with Cerberus...what? He's not that cold-hearted to leave poor Cerberus all alone

♡ during a break of his, he started to miss you, so he had to pop in your room to check up on you and then propose to go out since the weather is nice

♡ cheeky little liar!!

♡ it was nice but chilly as well, you, being the one who trusts your lover more than you should, were not dressed for this weather, not in your thin pants and short sleeve shirt

♡ Looking at him from the corner of your eyes, you can see him smirking a little

♡ "Would you like to wear my coat?"

♡ you nod, expecting him to put the coat over your shoulders, not to pull you to his side and cover both bodies with the coat

♡ "Ahh, now I feel better, don't you?"

♡ Most of his time with you, lucifer likes to pull you to him, making you believe that you need him to be here but really he's the one that needs you, to be happy and somewhat sane

♡ like Giving you notes, in hopes of distracting you by writing so he can stare at you longer

♡ or taking you out when you're stressed or bored, somewhere to meet your likings, so he can see you happy so he can take your hand in his and say "You stir feelings deep inside me with that smile, dear."

. . . D A I V O L O !

♡ Okay so as the next king in line, he's... busier than lucifer but if he works hard enough and not make excuses to get up ever few minutes, he'd have a few hours to spend with no meetings or papers to read and sign

♡ He likes to send you handwritten letters of how much he misses you and gifts in his break, things you two talked about before, a new fountine pen, softer pillows, matching bracelets... sometimes out of the blue even tickets/invitation letter to luxurous events

♡ A boat party, a ball, fashion show, play night opening, a concert

♡ basically he'll show a time of heart thrilling fun, he'll gift you memories to keep in albums because they're too precious to forget

♡ But his all time favorite moments with you are just being a couple

♡ Him stealing ice cream from your cone

♡ holding your hand while walking in the hallway between classes (much to Lucifer's dismay

♡ waking you up in the morning with kisses "If i could, i would definitely stay here with you in bed but Lucifer's waiting outside.. C'mon..would a few more kisses do the trick?"

♡ cuddling with you at night, his head on your shoulder, your arms around him and your fingers combing his hair, it's perfect to him "that tickles, love..."

♡ his lips twist upwards against your clothed shoulder...then his lips frown

♡ "oh wait, don't stop :("

​

This made me soft :'( now I wanna cuddle someone

[chadwickbosemanfanfic]

THE INVITATION (P 1/3) (fan fic)

Should this series continue?! Comment, like and reblog!

Synopsis: On the verge of flunking out of law school, a close friend encourages Evalyn Grier, a high performing HBCU and Ivy League scholar who has had her share of panic attacks, to get her head out of the books to finally have some fun! Her friend Meghan, a young journalist and socialite, convinces her that she believes a night out would allow her to unwind so that she can come back to her studies strong! But when she has a night she can’t remember, Evalyn finds herself trying to piece together how she woke up on the other side of the country in Los Angeles with Chadwick Boseman.

Year: 2018

Meghan eyeballed her close friend with annoyance in her glare. Evalyn sat with her legs crossed, reading through a document on her second computer screen completely unaware that she had become a target. She even had the nerve to start humming. Completely satisfied.

“This has to stop,” Meghan rose and crossed the condominium lounge. “You have to clear your mind to come back to all of this refreshed. It’ll help with your focus so that you can finish strong,” she slipped her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. “One minute you’re freaking out about how you’re going to flunk classes that have barely started. The next, you’re humming in miserable bliss,”

“Humming is the sound of—”

“Boredom,”

��Meghan, please, don’t—,”

The laptop was pressed shut. Meghan kept a manicured hand a top it’s warm surface as she scowled down at Evalyn, a friend of seven years. “You did not move out here to work your life away,”

“I literally moved here for law school. Two of the same,”

“Oh, really? Because I happen to recall a friend calling me and telling me she had two acceptance letters and that she would choose the option closest to her best friend to ‘have a little fun.’ Hell, if I knew what you meant by little, I would have told you to go elsewhere,” she bucked her eyes. “It’s Friday, the weather is sexy and we’re stuck inside a lounge with fluorescent lights and no windows!”

“I just need to finish this last assignment and reading. You know how hard Dr. Kirk’s courses have been for me. I’m afraid I’m going to flunk this course,”

“Reminder: The course just started,”

“I have to get a hold of it now so that I don’t drown later. If I finish the reading by 9 tonight —,”

“Nope, I’m not falling for that again. You’re going out tonight and you’re getting ready now. Get up. Let’s go upstairs to your condo. Better yet, let’s go to mine. I have something you can wear,”

“Wear where?”

“We were invited to a private event,”

“Private? And who extended this invitation,”

“The man I have been dating for two months. Now, come on, get up,” Meghan grabbed the computer and the one beneath it. Evalyn struggled to keep up, snatching her pens, papers and journals from the color-blocking red, white and cream sofa that was much too stiff for comfort. “Excuse us,” Meghan cheesed at a man they had never seen before that she nearly bumped into when stepping out into the bright hall. When she came to a halt, Evalyn bumped into her from behind. Pens rolled and hit the floor. She struggled to retrieve them. Meghan looked over her shoulder, smiling, “You see, the night already feels promising. Let’s go.”

* * *

Evalyn adjusted the black leather skirt. While she didn’t mind the black top showing off what she worked hard to keep, she still felt a little exposed with the leather hugging her hips. Much different from the boyfriend jeans she’d gotten used to wearing. Though, her legs were her favorite assets, so she did like how the skirt teased around her thighs and how the strap stilettos on her feet kissed her toned calves. All black, nearly down to black toenail polish Meghan tried to make her put on in replacement to her ol’ faithful red. That, she refused. She loved her red polish. She loved them that much more inside of the open-toe stilettos.

Meghan was gorgeous. She went with a smokey eye and dark lipstick that complemented her thick black hair that was sleek in the front and falling down her back with no sight of a curl or strand of hair out of place. Evalyn got back in the mirror to apply her red lipstick and teased at her bangs and curls. Meghan leaned over the counter top close by. She sung to herself while slipping on a pair of black earrings.

“Are those diamonds? They’re beautiful!”

She smiled at Evalyn’s reflection, “A gift,”

“From this two month mystery man who has no name?”

“You’ll meet him tonight,”

“Really,”

“Oh, let’s turn that up!” She dashed for the SmartTV remote, leaned into the living room from the guest bathroom and blasted its volume. “Girl, tonight is going to be [inaudible]!”

“What?! I can’t hear you over Juvenile!”

She twirled, leaning over with her hands on her knees. “This song never gets old! Girl, you have to loosen up tonight!”

“In THIS leather?!”

“I got something that will help you,” she twerked to the beat before bouncing upward and disappearing in her bedroom. She came back with a blunt and a small bag of candy. “Edibles or blunt,”

“No, no, no,” Evalyn shook her head, putting her hands up in defense. “Neither, I can’t.”

Meghan rolled her eyes. “More for me and a couple of friends,” she stuffed both into her purse. Pulled out her phone and thumbed at it. A grin parted her lips. “Here,” she shoved her phone back in her purse and hurried to the kitchen. “Let’s at least take a shot before the driver comes!”

“Meghan,” Evalyn whined, watching her friend pour a double shot in two full drinking glasses on the kitchen island.

“You don’t understand what’s about to happen tonight do you,” Meghan laughed. “Girl, we were invited to an industry party. Do you know whose going to be there?!”

“My guess? People in the industry?” Evalyn eyed the glass raised for her to take.

“Do you want to be there standing in a corner like a cactus watching everyone have fun or do you want to be a part of the festivities?”

“What kind of party is it exactly,”

“Does it matter,” she smirked. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“What’s up with the black? Don’t get me wrong, black is sexy and always a vibe but what’s the theme?”

She smirked again. “It’s a surprise. Now, come on,” she shoved the drink forward for Evalyn to take. She lifted her glass.

Evalyn waited.

“Come on, E, take the glass. Don’t be like that,”

“Tell me something other than it’s an industry party,”

She rolled her eyes, lowering both glasses. “Spoil the surprise?” Meghan exhaled, but was too excited to be bothered. “Premiere after party for Black Panther here in New York,”

Evalyn’s eyes bulged.

“I’ve been trying to get you out all day to attend the screening,” she raised her glass for the second time.

Evalyn followed suit. “Say no more,”

Meghan grinned. “That a girl,” she winked. “To a memorable and sexy night.”

Evalyn held back a grin. Both women clinked their glasses, lowered them to tap the surface of the counter and tossed them back.

It was one of the last things she remembered.

@royallyprincesslilly @chadwickbosemaniskingdreamybae @writingwakanda @vegasqueenbee @ororowrites @siriuslycollins-blog @lady-love-and-glitter-roses @kumkaniudaku @sisterwifeudaku

[espressokiri]

Hi there. Another Muslimah here.

Hope you don't mind me sending you an ask. I read your fic about the BNHA boys with a muslim s/o. It was really good. I loved it so much. (There aren't many fics like this, which is a shame cause we like fanfics too. So this was very refreshing. Thank you.💚😉)

Could you do one for the Haikyuu boys, specifically Tsukishima, Kuroo, Sugawara, and Bokuto. But only if you want to, of course.

Hope you have a great and productive day.

Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou, Sugawara Koushi, and Bokuto Koutarou x Hijabi!reader

In which reader is a hijabi Muslim.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Notes: You're welcome to send asks anytime <3 I may be slow at getting through them but I will make sure to get them out! Thank you for being so sweet anon <3 I hope you enjoy this one! ^^ I’m sorry if it seems bland as I was slowly losing ideas.

Tsukishima Kei

His eyes would constantly drift to you during class hours, lips twitching into a smile as he would watch you struggle with the assignment sheet given during history class.

Would take that as a leeway to make conversation and help you out.

"Tsk, can't even do a simple history assignment?"

Just sits down next to you and points out what you did wrong while helping you out.

Flinches his hand away and mutters a sorry if your hands accidentally graze each others.

He knows how strict the dating rules were and he admired it, thinking it was a safe way to keep them away from harm and heartbreak.

Becomes your unofficial tutor just to spend more time with you.

Has the urge to flick your forehead most times when you purposely tease him.

Is worried when he sees you zoning out in the middle of class during Ramadan, you have to convince him you're fine and that you're getting your studying done despite the odd sleep schedule you've created.

He'll give you a small box of his favourite treat, strawberry short cake, randomly throughout Ramadan because he knows you crave more sweets during the days you fast than regular days.

He calls you a masochist when he finds you watching cooking/baking videos while fasting.

Will stop by your house to drop off pastries during Eid for you and your family because he wants to peak at you all dressed up as he's only seen you in your school uniform or in casual but modest fashion.

He feels a sense of security, enjoying the aspect of getting to know someone with no sense of rush.

Kuroo Tetsurou

He's such an awkward nerd please.

Wants to approach you but fears he might accidentally offend you due to his provocative nature, hence resorts to staring at you from across the room.

Would research more about your religion and would use that as a way to start small talk;

“Hey, uh, I was wondering how do you manage to pray Zuhr when you’re in school? Isn’t it bad that you have to miss it?”

“Oh uh, I usually run home as soon as I can or pray in my club room if there are meetings, my club members are very understanding.”

“Oh... I see.”

“That’s pretty cool of you to be concerned, Kuroo-san.”

Cue him asking you random but wholesome questions with genuine curiosity.

“Did you know men who oppress women are considered to not follow Islam? I find that really nice that women are equal to men in your religion!”

You smile at him and his interest in your religion.

Study sessions in the library because you both wanted to spend time with each other but he knows it is wrong for a male to be alone in the same room as the opposite gender so you both opted for the library where there are lots of people.

Gasps and immediately looks away when you unravel the scarf around your head to fix;

“Y/n! You can’t do that!!”

“I’m wearing an underscarf calm down.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic male but smiled at his respectful nature.

Ramadan? Catch him ruining his sleep schedule just to have movie nights with you through the phone and Netflix Party.

Kenma teases him about it because Kuroo used to yell at him about his own staying up late gaming obsession.

Likes it when you wear a cap on top of your hijab, he thinks it looks cool on you.

He’ll convince you to skip school during Eid if it falls on a school day, telling you that it’s important that you spend at least the first day of it with your family. 

Overall, he’s the type to keep up with the Islamic calendar and learn new facts daily as he asks you to explain each and everything about your religion and lifestyle.

Sugawara Koushi

See’s you for the first time with Kiyoko when he went to excuse her from class for managerial duties.

Smitten from first sight.

Begs Kiyoko to let you be her assistant manager.

He keeps a distance from you during your first introduction and conversation because he didn’t know what you were comfortable with.

He was in awe to find out there were sports hijab when he saw you sporting one to play a short game with an over-enthusiastic Hinata.

“Here, stay hydrated.”

Hands you a bottle of water along with a towel, a newfound respect for playing in hot weather conditions fully covered. 

Due to the chaotic nature of the first and second years, Sugawara would run to cover your eyes with his jacket or hover his hands in front of your face whenever Tanaka would rip off his shirt to swing around whenever he spiked.

Sugawara had to stop himself multiple times from clapping his hand onto your shoulder, resulting in him just smacking either Asahi or Daichi when they mention him almost touching you.

Outings between you two is always monitored by the third years, Asahi smiling proudly at his friend Suga while Daichi and Kiyoko would sneakily take candid pictures of you both.

“What’s one verse you hold dear to your heart?”

You look at him from the warm mug of drink you are holding, tilting your head as you look at him in confusion. Sugawara felt the tips of his ears go red at the cute expression you held, and explains his question.

“Ah,” you thought long and hard before giving him an answer, “ ‘Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear...’ I find that part of the verse very reassuring in times when I feel like I’m overwhelmed.”

Sugawara held onto every word, finding the beauty behind those words, he felt at peace. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiles.

It felt like he was more excited than you for Ramadan.

He would read out loud the Japanese translation of the Quran after you read out the Arabic words in a beautiful and soothing voice. He wanted to understand and learn.

He was hooked onto the peaceful energy the month brought despite life going on normally.

This man would wear a formal Kimono when your family invites his over for Eid, he wanted to make the best impression despite already meeting them in passing.

Suga had a sense of security and comfort around him and you felt lucky to have met someone such as him.

Bokuto Koutarou 

Oh God.

Akaashi had a field day trying to stop him from initiating any and every kind of physical affection when he first introduced you to him.

Bokuto is a man who expresses himself with affection, so he was lucky for Akaashi to explain to him why he shouldn’t initiate any physical affection without asking for what you considered crossing a boundary.

He knows he can’t drag you to the gym to watch him play volleyball by hand, so he asks you to hold onto the end of a pen, which you took, confused as to what the male exactly wants before realizing he was holding the other end and using that to drag you to where the gym was.

It was oddly endearing.

“Did you see my spike, Y/n?! Didya see?!”

“Yes, Bokuto. It was really cool!”

Cue a chest puffed up Bokuto who grinned with pride.

Invites you to eat lunch with him and Akaashi on the roof.

Having to refuse his food because you weren’t sure if there was pork in it or not.

This made Bokuto stop bringing in food that contained pork, not knowing even aside from that, he had to have the halal form of chicken or beef.

Akaashi had to explain everything to him when he asked him once.

Tried to go vegetarian one day, failed the minute he took a bite out of his food.

Feels bad when he eats on days you are fasting, so he tries finishing the meal before you come up to their usual meeting spot, resulting in him giving himself a stomach ache.

Brings you tuna filled onigiri to take home so you can eat it as a snack during the night after breaking your fast.

Sends you spam messages minutes before having to break your fast;

‘Are you excited to eat?!?!?!’

‘What are you having today?!?’

‘If you want to get any snacks later let me know! :D’

‘ONE MINUTE LEFT!!’

He’s so wholesome please.

Wants to skip school with you for Eid, but pouts when you tell him you’ll be spending it with family.

Asks you to send an OOTD pic so he could be your hype-man.

Bokuto is always willing to understand more about you and your religion, making sure to note things in his head for future references.

[mothandpidgeon]

Extra Credit (Professor!Dave York AU)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Dave York x F Reader

Words: 2865

Rating: VERY E 18+!

Warnings: student/teacher quid pro quo (safe to say this falls under DUB CON so please be careful!!!), spanking, humiliation/degradation, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, pussy slapping, biting/marking, p in v sex, Dave York

Summary: With graduation on the horizon, you just have to pass Professor Dave York’s class. But a bad choice on the final assignment leaves your grades in jeopardy. But he’s willing to give you extra credit if you can follow instructions.

a/n: First off, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU MIND THE WARNINGS. I did not see myself sharing this kind of stuff but I guess I'm freaky like that.

Second, I’m sorry this has the plot of a bad p*rno but sometimes it be like that. Thanks @pascalslittlebrat, @starlightmornings and @mouthymandalorian for encouraging this. It is filth. And thank you P for the gorgeous moodboard!!!!

Also, here is my assignment for the class. What subject do you think Professor York teaches? I was thinking Political Science. Would love to hear your ideas.

It was hot in the lecture hall, one of those early spring days when the weather decided winter was officially over. You had only a few more weeks until graduation and you were white knuckling to the end.

It had been a tough semester. You had your classes to deal with and your motivation was dipping. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’d had to take on a full time job on top of your studies. Your shitty little car always seemed to be in the shop and your roommate had turned into a psychopath so you slept with one eye open.

Professor York’s class was the hardest you’d ever taken. You liked his style, his dry sense of humor as he lectured. But he was difficult to please. Most professors let their TAs do their the grading but not him. No matter how hard you worked on your papers, you couldn’t wrestle anything higher than a B- from Professor York.

The TA was handing back your papers, the last assignment for the semester, and he placed yours face down in front of you. There was no grade on it just red pen that spelled out see me after class in tight, neat handwriting. Fuck.

You looked up to see Professor York glowering at you from his spot at the front of the hall. You approached him as the other students filed out. You wished you could share their relief that this class was finally done but you had a knot in your stomach.

“Have a seat,” he said, taking the paper from you and tapping it in his palm.

There was a chair next to the professor’s desk and you sat down putting your bag beside you.

“Thanks, Tyler,” he said, dismissing the TA.

When the lecture hall was empty, Professor York sat behind the desk, eyes skimming your paper.

“I wanted to talk to you about this,” he said.

You nodded, too nervous to try speaking.

“This is some great work. This is the kind of essay that really sticks with you after you read it,” he said. His brown eyes were warm and soft and he sat forward in his chair.

You were dumbfounded, your anxiety quickly washing away.

“That’s probably how I know I already read this,” he said, his features suddenly darkening.

Your stomach plummeted into your feet. You were such an ass, thinking you could get away with it.

“I don’t tolerate plagiarism,” he told you.

With everything that had been going on this semester, you didn’t have it in you to complete this final assignment. It wasn’t like you were going to get a good grade anyway. You’d been so exhausted, you hardly cared if you got caught when you’d handed it in. But now that you had to face Professor York, you were kicking yourself.

“I find it highly disrespectful that you would try and pass this off as your work. You know you can be expelled for this?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’ve just had so much work to do-“

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he snapped.

You shut your mouth and felt tears bite at your eyes.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked in disgust. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“Professor, if I fail this class I’m not going to graduate. Please. I’ll do anything to just pass,” you said.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you said. The word sounded so definitive when it left your lips.

Professor York leaned back in his chair, swiping his finger across his lower lip in thought.

“I can give you extra credit but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he said.

You were so relieved, you nodded breathlessly.

His lips curled into a smile.

“What color panties are you wearing?” He asked.

Your cheeks set on fire but heat also pooled between your legs. “I- what?” You managed.

“Show them to me,” he commanded.

Your whole body flushed and you stared at him, wide eyed. You had to be dreaming. You’d always found Professor York sexy with that grin and his deep voice but he wouldn’t- this wasn’t happening.

“Do you want extra credit or do you want me to give this paper to your advisor?” He asked, his tone suddenly harsh.

You swallowed hard. Why did his words send a shiver down your spine? You picked up the hem of your skirt and lifted it so Professor York could see between your legs. You looked away, blushing deeply.

He made a guttural noise that made you drop your skirt and clench your thighs together.

“Give them to me,” he said.

Your mouth hung open. He looked completely serious, blinking at you slowly as if this was a casual request. You bit down hard on your lip but finally you relented.

You squirmed out of your panties, being careful that you didn’t give him a show in the process, and placed them in his large, outstretched hand.

He put them to his nose, inhaled, and then squirreled them away in his back pocket, all the while watching you with amusement.

“Stand up. Put your hands on the desk,” he said.

You couldn’t move, sitting there with a gaping mouth. Finally he narrowed his eyes and you did as he said. You put your palms against the table top, aware of the vulnerable way you were leaned over. His eyes moved over your form and he wore the same self-satisfied expression that came when a student asked a stupid question.

Once he was finished admiring your obedience, he stood up and walked behind you. Your heart was pumping wildly as he stepped closer and you could smell his cologne, leather and tobacco.

“I‘ll pass you but I don’t want you thinking you’re getting off easy,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He chuckled and your breath caught. You felt him lift your skirt up, the fabric skimming over your bare ass, and you gasped. He didn’t touch you but he made a noise of approval that shot through you.

“I’m going to hit you five times,” he said into your ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded without even knowing you were doing it. What the fuck was happening? You were standing in the empty lecture hall, bent over, ass out, and desperate to graduate. You couldn’t believe Professor York’s audacity and yet you were going to let him spank you like you were a little girl. It wasn’t like you had a choice, you told yourself.

Before you could make sense of it, his hand connected with you and you let out a grunt. Were you getting wet? You definitely should not be enjoying this.

He hit you again and this time a moan escaped from you. You clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Hands on the desk,” he commanded.

You put it back down and another strike came against you. The sound of his punishment seemed to be echoing off the walls of the empty room.

He pulled your hips into him to steady you as he went on. You loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you firm.

When he was finished, you were nearly shaking, your pulse quick and your lips parted. You were still reeling not least of all due to the fact that you wanted more.

“Good girl,” Professor York purred smoothing his hand over the spot he’d turned red. His fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slick on your lips. “You’re not going to learn your lesson if you’re enjoying this.”

He came up right behind you so he could wrap his hand around your front and stroke at you. You were thankful your palms were braced against the desk because your knees nearly gave out.

“Professor,” you tried.

“Did I say you could speak?” he asked, a hand gripping your hair.

“What if someone comes in?” Your voice shook.

“Then you’ll have to tell them why you’re failing my class,” he said and continued to play his fingers between your legs.

You whimpered. You could feel his hard length through his pants pressed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your head spun. You knew how fucked up this was but you didn’t want it to end. Professor York’s fingers circled you expertly and you felt like you were melting in his hands. You forgot everything— the circumstances that lead you to this moment, that this was your teacher, that you were exposed in public. Nothing existed except for your pleasure building and building.

As the sensation mounted in you, you began to buck against his hand.

“Are you close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Good,” he replied and suddenly, his hand was gone.

You cried out in desperation. You clenched at nothing, left at the precipice with no relief. You were throbbing almost painfully. Professor York caught your chin in one of his hands, squeezing your face and wrenching your head around to look at him.

“Do you deserve to cum?” he asked.

You thought you might actually cry between your need for his touch and the fear his voice instilled in you.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No,” he confirmed.

He loosened his grip on you and, for the briefest moment that softness returned to his eyes. You looked at him, eyes glassy and practically drooling, wishing he would touch you again.

“Needy girl,” he chided. “On your knees.”

He pulled you to your feet by the back of your skirt and you got down, bare knees and shins on the tile floor. You gazed up at him, still a little nervous, still pulsing between your thighs.

Professor York undid a few of the buttons of your shirt and skimmed his knuckle across your breast with a hum.

“Maybe I should take this too. Matching set,” he said. He snapped your bra strap which made you jump. “Off.”

He palmed the bulge in his pants as he watched you remove your shirt and unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your tits and pinched your pebbled nipple until you flinched.

“You want to pass?” he asked you, repeating the motion on the other side.

You nodded and he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said.

“You want to please me?” Now his hand ran gently along your jawline.

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d been trying all this time, studying hard, staying up all night to perfect your papers. Now you had a new goal in mind though you were afraid it was just as unattainable.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed and when you did he spit into it. “Don’t swallow that.”

You stayed like that, with your mouth open as he released himself from his pants. There was a dark patch on his boxer briefs stained by precum. You watched him wildly as he pulled at himself and a glistening bead appeared at his tip. Saliva, yours or his, was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping on your hard nipples.

“Don’t you look pretty. I hope you can suck cock better than you write papers,” he mocked.

For some reason this was what made your eyes pop. You asked yourself if you were really going to suck off your professor for a good grade. As if you hadn’t just handed him your panties. As if you hadn’t just let him smack your ass. As if your thighs weren’t drenched with your own slick.

He approached you, still stroking himself and you were jealous. You wanted that friction on yourself, were dying for more.

You didn’t have to be told what to do. You wrapped your wet lips around his thick length and your tongue swirled around him.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded.

You looked up at him, and grasped his shaft in your hand as you sunk your mouth around him as far as you could go. Your saliva dripped down his cock pooling in your fist.

“Fuck,” he said.

That word excited you. You kept going, watching him try to keep his eyes open as you surrounded him. The noise of your lips on him was almost disgusting, wet and squelching, and yet it was driving you insane. You clenched your core for some kind of relief that wouldn’t come.

He thrust deeper into your mouth and you tried to take him in but gagged. You pulled away, his cock bouncing out of your mouth and you coughed.

“Good girl,” he said. “Look at you trying to earn that extra credit.”

Tears stung in your eyes as you tried to recover.

“You still want to cum?” he asked, one hand pumping himself slowly.

You nodded timidly. More than anything in the fucking world. But you didn’t want to seem too eager, aware that he was ready at any moment to rescind the offer.

“Sit on the desk,” he said and you did. “Greedy little brat.”

Professor York slid your skirt up your thighs and that sensation alone felt erotic. He inserted two fingers into your mouth and you sucked them hungrily while he grinned.

He slid them across your folds and you were already so sensitive your back arched. He surprised you by getting down on his knees, opening your legs and throwing your thighs over his shoulders. You leaned back on your hands, laid out across the desk, fully on display.

You heard a noise in the hallway and gasped, your head snapping towards the door. But your attention was immediately drawn back to Professor York when you felt him smack you between the legs.

“Do you want to cum or not?”

“Please,” you begged.

He gave you a dark smile and then began nipping at the inside of your thighs. When he got closer to your center, he bit and sucked hard. You let out a breath, a mix of pleasure and pain.

“When you think about this later, I want you to touch yourself and look at this,” he said, swiping the pad of his thumb over the welt he’d just left there.

You let out a shuddering breath and he began to nibble at your clit between his lips. When your hand automatically shot into his hair, he grabbed you by the wrist and removed it, holding your palm against the desk. His tongue lavished you, churning you into a frenzy, and it didn’t take long before you were back where you’d been before. You were panting and grinding your hips into him.

This time he let you hit your high and you trembled and thrashed as he worked at you. It felt like you’d been wiped out by a wave, not being able to sense up from down. You were mewling and shaking when you finally begged him to stop, overwhelmed and cloyed.

He stood and wiped you from his chin and then said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You nodded frantically. He pushed into you and you were sure he could feel you still fluttering around him. You were wetter than you could ever remember but still he was difficult for you to take and you inhaled sharply. He didn’t seem to care, snapping his hips into you and grunting, one hand balling your skirt in his fist against you. Soon, though, you were lost in the sensation of his thrusts.

You didn’t even realize that you were whining loudly as he fucked you, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Professor York took your panties from his pocket and shoved them in your mouth to stifle your cries.

“You’re going to have to quiet down,” he rasped.

You whimpered against the fabric in your mouth and he smiled wickedly. He put his hand around the back of your neck to draw you in closer and he pressed into you faster and faster. He pulled out and you heard your own muffled moan at the loss of him. He worked at himself, spilling over your thigh and on your skirt with a groan.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath and you watched as the professor leaned over you on his hands, swallowed, and then stood up, as composed as ever. He laughed quietly to himself as he took the panties out of your mouth and smoothed his hair.

“Put your clothes on. I have another class to get to,” he said, handing you a handkerchief and zipping himself up. He slid your panties back in his pocket.

You felt shaky on your feet after you’d mopped up his spend. You got dressed wondering how you were going to get through the rest of the day commando, with a ruined skirt, and the remnants of your professor’s cum drying onto your skin. He didn’t say anything else. You hooked your bag over your shoulder and Professor York looked you up and down one last time. He handed you back your essay. It was soaked through down the middle and you realized you’d been sitting on it on the desk. At the top was a new note in red pen: see me after graduation and his phone number.

You got an A.

-----

tagging some folks: @pascalslittlebrat @mouthymandalorian @starlightmornings @purplepascal042 @originallaura @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @tuskens-mando @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @goddessinwolfskin @stevie75 @yespolkadotkitty @danniburgh @221bshrlocked

[sakiyo]

━ # ONE A.M EYELINER | suna rintaro

+ pairings: suna rintaro/reader

+ tags: best friends 2 lovers, suna being a pretty mf, mutual pining, uni!au.

+ warnings: none

+ word count: 2.2k

+ summary: suna rintaro has never let you do his eyeliner, simply because he’s afraid to let you get too close.

+ listening to: FLESH by miguel & A Warm Touch of Light by Isabella LeVan

+ note: nothing but me rambling on about how pretty suna’s eyes are and how they’re pretty enough to deserve a whole fic dedicated to them. dedicated to my dom @kiyoomae​ i hope you enjoy babe because i finished this shitty fic for you <3.

“i could get hypothermia if i go out there, you know.”

working with suna always ended up the same way, there was no doubt about it. by the time that the clock plastered on your wall hit twelve-forty five a.m, the project was finished, but completely half assed as a result of neither of you paying enough attention during lectures to actually know what to do. yet, somehow, the same desultory assignment would always receive an undeserving ‘A-plus’. mostly because your professor never cared to actually observe the material, as long as it was in, it was good enough for him. [but you would grade it a solid 64 percent]

there's one variable that’s different today; it’s raining. it’s one a.m and it’s raining, and suna decided that it would be a sublime idea to walk to your apartment today, of all days. [as much as you encourage him to do so, he still never checks the weather]. the disruption in your routine was anything but an easy adjustment. and as much as you wanted to kick him out, the rain was growing heavier and heavier and—

“okay fine! you can crash for the night!” 

he smiled, unaware of the fact that you would have said yes to him either way.

+++

you can’t help but notice that suna has pretty eyes.

honestly, you picked up on his bizarrely unique vulpine-like eyes years ago, when you had first met him. but now, as you sit on the couch that occupies the majority of your compact living room, you’re drawn back to them.

its an odd thought to think about your best friend at one in the morning. 

but...he’s admittedly pretty.

you think back to a random fact you learned in the biology course you took in your third year of highschool; you grow into your eyes. never in your life did you believe that such a miniscule piece of information would find its way back into your mind two years later, and because of suna no less.

it’s one a.m and your legs are situated in his lap, his fingers deftly toying with the tip of the anklet he bought you for your sixteenth birthday [he doesn’t believe that you still wear it, even after all the passed time], 

but you’re still fixated on his eyes.

if it was even possible, the creases accented them further, like each line was strategically placed to lure one’s undivided attention to them. it’s funny though, because suna was never fond of attention. [which was also why seven year old rin never took a liking to overly-exertive you.

you still share a laugh with him thinking back to your rock hard resolve as a child and his burning desire to stay away from you. 

it’s funny how easily time changes things.]

you almost feel like you’re dreaming as you watch his eyelids ghost over, his glassy skin reflecting the coral tint of the cheap ceiling light. but you’re not dreaming, he’s right there, in all his ignorant glory. suna doesn’t notice your residual gaze, he’s fixated on the ‘NBA playoffs highlights’ video streaming on his instagram feed. yet you feel creepy, overanalyzing him like this.

but you allow your mind to wander, just a bit.

“hey, rintaro?” you lightly dig your heel into his thigh. 

it’s merely a sporadic case of wishful thinking. you’ve known suna rintaro for many years, which was more than enough time to figure out his complex personality.

and if there’s one thing he never allowed you to do, it was his eyeliner.

six times. 

you had asked to apply the liquid to his eyes six times, and each time you had received the same answer. a simple no. he doesn’t say ‘no’ with malice, though. no...the last thing he would want is you thinking that he just hated you enough to constantly reject your proposals.

suna hums quietly, shifting to meet your gaze. “yeah?” 

he still thinks you haven’t caught on, but you picked up on his tendency to immediately drop his phone in a reflex to hearing your voice a while back— you like it.

“do you think,” you shift your legs from the comfort of his lap and move your body closer to him, “i could do your eyeliner?”

your question doesn’t register.

instead, suna’s hyper fixated on the inching proximity between you two— he doesn’t like it. it’s one a.m and you’re moving one couch cushion closer, your knee is brushing against his thigh, has your skin always been this cold? he can barely focus, but he still hears the droplets of rain assaulting the window and roofs, they’re getting louder and louder and—

“suna? did you hear me?” your voice is accompanied with slight confusion. 

you narrow your eyes as he blinks out of his trance. you’re not shocked though— his tendencies to space out were never limited to lectures alone. “wha?”

your shoulder rests against his, and he swears he feels his heart cease its rhythmic palpitations for a fraction of a second.

[no you idiot, that’s just your regular heartbeat.]

there’s apprehension in your voice, “can i...do your eyeliner…?” suna is a relatively simple man, the worst he can say is no, but you want a yes this time around. 

“i’ve already said—” 

suna’s breath hitches, as if his words are lodged at the back of his throat. your fingers grip onto the peak of his broad shoulders. [you’d rather die than admit it, but you always loved when he’d roll them back and inconspicuously stretch his neck]

suna stares at you squarely in the face. he can feel the outline of your fingernails lightly tacking into his skin. shit, he’s dreaming. his eyes shift around the room, it’s still one a.m, and he can’t get any words out of his mouth.

speak, speak, SPEAK—

you beat him to it.

“before you say no!” your voice rises as you try to appeal. “i’m letting you crash at my place for the night, i deserve a payment.” your words come out as more of a jumbled mess than a proper sentence. subconsciously, you take your bottom lip between your thumb and index fingers, biting it every now and then. suna lifts a brow at your familiar mannerisms— he likes to think he knows you better than anyone else, and he knows that you toy with your bottom lip before taking a test, receiving a report card, or going in for a job interview.

are you nervous?

he sighs.

“fine…” he whispers softly. suna doesn’t exactly know if he should regret agreeing to your question, but he doesn’t miss the way your eyes visibly light up when he does.

you look pretty. 

+++

he regrets it.

it’s one a.m and you’re situated on his lap, straddling him innocently as you dab the brush into the bottle of ebony ink. suna can’t help but feel like a putty in your hands, the same ones that gently grip his jaw to hold it in place. 

he’s still not sure how old he was when your touches started to feel like fire.

suna feels trapped, he IS trapped. between your legs, between your soft body and the tender cushion, between the thin line of friendship and-

he should stop.

[he still can’t believe he’s doing this]

“would you like thin, or thick eyeliner, rin?”

has his name always rolled off your tongue so effortlessly?

“thin, like yours.”

you hum with content, looking him over with a small smile etched onto your face. he doesn’t understand how you can keep eye contact with him so easily, especially while you’re moving closer and closer to his chest. 

he holds his breath as you exhale. he can still smell the lingering scent of peppermint from the gum you were chewing minutes before– usually he can’t stand it, but right now it feels like home. suna knows his eyes shouldn’t be trailing down to your cherry balm stained lips, and he knows that his chest shouldn’t swell at the sight of you wearing his old bleach stained t-shirt that stretched past your shorts.

suna knows that he’s not supposed to see his best friend in that light; so why is it all that he can think about?

“close your eyes for me please?”

he really doesn’t want to, afraid that if he opens them back up again, you’ll be gone and he’ll be in his bed [he still believes that he’s dreaming]. but he knows that he’d rather dance with the devil [the twins] than say no to you, so he complies.

you hum a light tune to yourself as you bring the fine-tipped brush to the edge of his eye. as the pen glides across his skin, suna can’t help but flinch at the intrusive feeling. instinctively, his hand darts up to hold your wrist, stopping you from drawing any further.

“that feels weird.” he can’t see, but he can feel the smile tugging at your lips.

“you’ll get used to it in a bit, rin.”

it’s weird, best friends don’t usually sit in each other’s lap with less than five inches of breathing room between each other. what if he were to do this with one of the twins–

that’s a disturbing thought. he immediately forgets about it. he shifts in discomfort mid-stroke, making your hand slip.

you groan in frustration; it’s at times like this that you can’t stand suna.

“stop moving! you made it smudge!” you lightly smack his chest [though, it’s just a pitiful excuse to touch him].

“sorry, sorry.” your giggles die down as you clean up the line, and suna quickly goes back to overthinking. 

tik

the rain is still pouring.

tok

he counts that you breathe twice every ten seconds.

tik

you’re getting closer to his chest. 

tok

he can still smell the leftover pizza on the coffee table from today’s takeout.

tik

the gel feels kind of nice now.

tok

its one a.m and suna’s falling in love with–

“earth to suna?” you huff as you lightly tap his shoulder, “don’t tell me that you’ve fallen asleep on me.” it’s quite funny to him when you say that; you’re actually what keeps him up at night.

you lean back as he opens his eyes, looking at the eyeliner from afar. you can’t help but get a bit jealous– even without trying, suna had always managed to look perfect. 

you’re so caught up that you don’t notice yourself starting to slip.

“watch out.” his hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

it’s one a.m and your hands are back on his shoulders. you know that your eyes shouldn’t be on his slightly chapped lips, and you know that you shouldn’t want to throw the hoodie adorning his body somewhere across the room. 

inhale

his hands are still around your waist.

exhale 

you watch as his tongue ghosts over his lips to wet them.

inhale 

you can smell the residual scent of the same cinnamon cologne you got him for a ‘secret santa’ event between your friend group.

exhale 

sometimes, you forget that you’re just friends.

inhale

has suna always been this attractive?

exhale 

the tipped over bottle of eyeliner is spilling onto your clothes.

inhale 

how would his lips feel against–

“wanna kiss you.” the hesitation in suna’s voice is clear. he knows better than anyone that best friends shouldn’t want to kiss each other. his heart is racing. when your eyes widen in surprise he wants nothing more than to push you off of him and leave without saying goodbye– but he’s already said it. 

“w-what?” you stutter out. you can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. you want to pinch yourself, but if it is a dream, the last thing you’d want is to wake up.

“i want to kiss you. will you let me?” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

little does he know that you want more; to touch him, taste him, love him–

you take the easy way out instead, “yeah...alright.”

he moves a stray strand of hair away from your face, is he doing this right? You move in closer, eyes slowly fluttering shut, but suna’s gaze still lingers on you. he thinks you look even more beautiful than before [he didn’t think it was possible]. It’s one a.m and he’s about to kiss the person of his dreams. 

shit. he should close his eyes.

the journey seems like forever, but you both finally feel each other.

no, his lips don’t ghost over yours.

they press together, full of pent up passion. it’s hot, too hot for even best friends. 

can you even call each other that anymore?

not with the way his hands claw at the tip of your shirt in a futile attempt of pulling you closer to him, not with the way you gather tufts of his hair in your hands, and certainly not at the way you both feel at home like this. you both can taste every last inch of each other. 

he swears that he hates peppermint, but he’s drunk on the taste of it on your tongue. 

you’re meant to be nothing more than childhood best friends, but you want more and more and MORE.

this shouldn’t be happening, but he wants more and more and MORE–

you both break for air after an eternity, pulling away with heat-flushed faces, heaving chests, and swollen lips. he rests his forehead against yours, peppering ghost-kisses between breaths that tickle your skin. 

“i’m not supposed to love you, but i do.”

it’s two a.m, and two best friends are melting into each other. 

they’re unaware that the rain has stopped. 

[jenodunno]

Studying

a/n: aish i’m sorry i haven’t written in a while, i have no excuses for myself other that i had no inspiration to write. Anyways i hope you enjoy this cute little story of Jaemin tutoring you hehe

pairing: Jaemin x Reader

warnings: none ?

"How can you even get good grades in this class" You sigh looking at your boyfriend's test paper that the teacher just handed out.

"I don't know," He shrugs looking over at the grade on your paper "But I do know I'm better at it then you" He lets out a small laugh

"Instead of laughing you should be a good boyfriend and help me" You sulk, laying your head on your desk.

Let's just say Human Anatomy isn't the class you do best nor do you even like it, but the sadly you still need to pass the class to no disappoint your parents.

"Of course I'll help you out, love," He smiles looking at you before petting your head "I'll come over after school, like that we can get started"

"Wait, what ? Now ?" You asked in disbelief "I know I asked for help but not right away I want to rest my brain a little"

"Yah...no, the faster we study the faster you'll understand what's going on and anyways the next test is schedule for next week so it's best if you start now, love." He says letting out a small laugh at the end when you sighed once again for like the one hundredth time.

"Fine" You mumble burying your face in your hands.

-

Wednesday at your place, (A week till the test)

"Wait" Jaemin says trying to hold back his laughter while looking at the test you received back from your teacher yesterday because he's a great boyfriend and doesn't want to laugh at your failure "You're really going to tell me you don't know where the esophagus is,"

"No, I know where it is, It's just that-"

"Then why did you put throat instead,"

"Because technically-"

"No baby no, technically it isn't our throat"

“Well technically yes because when we eat food goes down in it-“

“I can tell this is going to be long” He sighs chuckling

“Heyy don’t laugh at me !” You huffed, pushing him lightly “can we take a break we've been reviewing for hours" You sighed

"It's only been 30 minutes, my love," Jaemin says and looks at you with an 'are you serious' face "And I pretty sure we'll need more than that if you don't know where the esophagus is" He chuckles

"You're really not going to let me go for that one" You say getting up off the floor

"Nope" He smiles at you, before kissing you on the nose.

-

Thursday at Jaemin's place, (6 days till the test)

"Maybe you'll focus more at my place" Jaemin mumbles opening the front door for the both of you.

"What's that suppose to mean" You say looking up at him

"I mean that, maybe studying in another environment that's not your usual one might help you focus more" He explains

"I practically live here with you, Jae" You looked at him laughing a little

“Yeah yeah whatever, come on” He laughs stepping a side a little letting you go in first before closing the door behind himself.

After getting settled on the kitchen counter with all the school work laid out in front of you guys and Jaemin to your left you try to pay attention. In the end you actually are paying attention to what Jaemin is showing and explaining to you, maybe he was right earlier....

"So as long as you can try to remember this graphic by heart you'll at least get a 10 out 35 on the test" He says trying to make you feel better

"Yah but that isn't enough," You blow out a breath

"I know it isn't, love, but that's still better than the grades you got yesterday, and anyways I'll try my best to help you" He says grabbing your hand into his own "Anyways let's focus on this chapter, most of the vocabulary and work that'll be on the test is in this chapter, okay ?" He says softly looking at you and when you nod at him he starts explaining.

After 2 hours of studying flying by, you both decide to take a break.

“You know I hope you focused more on what I was explaining to you and not my face.” He smirks before drink out of his water bottle

“W-what do you mean,?!” You answered back in a flustered state “I was paying attention to you.”

“Yeah to me or to what I was explaining,” He chuckles before raising an eyebrow at you “because to me it seemed like you were paying more to me, as in my face and not the work.”

"T-that's not true," You defended

"Come on just admit to it and I'll give you a kiss" He once again lifts the corner of his lips forming a smirk

"J-jaemin !"

-

Saturday at Jaemin's place, (4 days till the test)

You don't know if Jaemin is actually a really good tutor or he is a good tutor because suddenly you can understand things you didn't think you could or at least you think so. I guess you could say you were lucky to have him.

"Are you guys really studying on a Saturday ?" Jeno says walking in Jaemin's house as if it's his own with a basketball in his hands

"Hmm, Oh yeah I'm helping my princess over here not fail for our next test" Jaemin hums a response to Jeno barely acknowledging his presence "Anyways, do you understand the graphics over here, It's explaining how the fluids in-"

"What's up fuckers" Donghyuck says bursting into the living room with a football soccer ball in his hand "Jeez it's literally the weekend and you both are in here studying, tsk, you know it feels really good outside ?" He smirks at you, dropping his weight on the couch "I would say the weather is about 28 degrees with a few clouds and the wind is-"

"You know it's better to stay in here than to be outside with your presences," You playfully glare at him

"Oh come on, stop acting like you hate me when you don't" He laughs before throwing the ball his holding in the air before catching it again.

"Stop being lame Donghyuck," Jeno chimes in "Anyways come on Jaems, It won't kill to take a little break and have fun, right Y/N ?"

"Okay, okay fine how about about we take a small break," Jaemin says getting up before smiling at how happy you looked

Let's just say it wasn't a small break you both took.....

-

Tuesday afternoon in the library (The day before the test)

"I'll never understand why it's so important to learn this, I honestly don't care about the human anatomy and how it works," You whine pushing your folder away from you

"You know your only learning about this because you chose this course" Jaemin says letting out a small laugh at your defeat

"Yeah well I only chose the scientific course because I wanted to have Laboratory but even that is hard and boring, I should have chosen the literature course like that I would of gotten art and I'm pretty sure that is much more fun and less hard than this human body thing. And also I wouldn't be alone because Renjun is there" You ramble out.

Jaemin pauses looking at you, then looking at all the school work flared out in front of you both before letting out a small sigh with a light laugh at the end.

"Look baby, I'm going to be honest with you. I know we've been studying for this test since last week but going the way we are going and the fact that the test is tomorrow, you're going to fail this test, I love you, but there's nothing we can do about it now" Jaemin says looking over at you before you let your head fall on the table with a bang gaining peoples attention. Jaemin just smiles at them before bringing his attention back to you caressing your back

"I knew it, I'm going to fail again and like you said there's nothing we can do" You mumble out lowly with a sigh following at the end

Jaemin doesn't respond but just sits there and comforts you.

-

Wednesday, ( test day )

The moment the teacher handed out the test papers, you knew you were doomed. On the first page you barely understood anything and the second page even less, though on the third page there was the graph that you studied so hard to remember, which you shockingly did. While filling out the graph you started remembering a few things Jaemin had taught you a few days prior.

30 minutes passed by pretty fast before you heard your teacher's timer going off "Okay times up, everyone pens down" He then proceeded to collect everyone's papers before going back to his desk to grade them leaving the class to do whatever.

"So how do you think you did ?" Jaemin says looking over at you, who was staring at the bracelet you were wearing

"Hm ? Oh umm well honestly I'm pretty confident, after I completed the graph suddenly things you had explained came into my head and I feel like I got a lot of things correct !" You say cheerfully. You honestly do think you did pretty well, all the answers suddenly came into your head at one pointed so yeah you are confident in yourself.

"I'm glad to hear that you're confident, It puts me at ease knowing I tutored you well" He smile at you like always

"Of course you did, you're a pretty good tutor y'know now I understand why Jisung always comes to you for help" You laugh softly

-

"Good morning everyone, i hope that today has been a pretty decent day for you all" Your teacher speaks out to the class walking in front of his desk. "Now before you ask yes I've graded yesterdays test, I will now hand them out" Your teacher announces.

"Yay finally, I could barely sleep last night because of this." You giggled cheerfully

Your teacher finally reaches yours and Jaemin's desk handing out your papers. When giving Jaemin his paper, you didn't miss your teacher giving him a small pat on his shoulder before giving you your paper with a small smile on his face. Giving him a small smile back you checked out your grade on the top right of the paper. The moment your eyes landing on your grade, you practically had stars popping out out of them.

With a little squeal of happiness you turn your paper around to show it to your lover with a huge grin on your face.

"Look !" You beamed happily at your boyfriend "Ahh thank you so much" Leaning in giving him a hug

"You're welcome my love," He chuckles looking down at you on his chest, reaching to pat your head "But you do know that having a 14/30 doesn't exactly mean you passed"

But you were quick to look at him and shush him with a finger to your lips "Don't ruin it for me, it's the highest grade I've gotten in this class" As your face changed from having a playful pout on it to having a smile letting a few giggles escape from your lips.

[futurequeenofravka]

Good Enough - Sirius x Reader

Summary:

After a spat with a Slytherin girl in your year, you’ve start to doubt your relationship with Sirius Black. While you are wildly in love with him, you start to question why he chose you, a “mudblood.”

Warnings: None, I don’t think? Just a little angsty!

A/N: this is my first piece! it’s a lil test of a fic I’d like to write eventually, and it was prompted by mmfd so I decided to tweak the dialogue from the show a little to make it wizarding world esque hahah. But I hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading, this is the first time I’ve ever shared my creative writing online so please let me know what you think (also please send requests)! Also sorry if the formatting looks a lil weird, posting this from my phone made it kinda wonky.

Word count: 2.2k-ish words.

—

Pst. Psssst.

Sirius’s whisper grew louder until I looked over my shoulder to where he and James were sitting a few desks back from Lily and I. He tried to silently mouth a question as Professor Binns droned on about last night’s reading. James and Lily quietly laughed as they watched Sirius try to repeat himself a number of times before ultimately giving up. I shot him an apologetic look for my lip reading skills, or I guess lack thereof, as I watched him rip up a piece of parchment and scribble down a message. He waited for a spare moment in which Binns had his back turned to the class to write something on the chalkboard and then tossed the crumpled up piece of paper at me.

“What’s it say?” Lily asked as I unfolded the piece of parchment that Sirius had thrown my way.

“Blimey is he fucking annoying.” I said letting out a small laugh as I read the note.

“Well?” She leaned in closer trying to read the note from over my shoulder.

I slid the parchment across our shared desk so that she could read the message as well. Hi. I just wanted to say you look beautiful today. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 7? Lily sarcastically groaned as she slid the note back over to me and we pretended to go back to our class work. I turned back around to see Sirius intently waiting for my answer, I rolled my eyes at the silly gesture but smiled as I gave him a small nod to confirm our meeting later.

“You two are so sickly sweet sometimes, honestly I think I might have a toothache.” She said loud enough to provoke a laugh from James who eyed her from a few desks over.

“Beats the headache I get from watching you and Potter dodge your feelings for each other.” I retorted, quietly laughing as I tried to refocus my attention back to my textbook.

After class had ended I said bye to Lily as I made my way to the library to study for my potions exam. Sirius had already promised James that he’d come watch the Gryffindors practice for the upcoming Quidditch match so I’d have to study alone today, which I didn’t particularly mind because usually with Sirius around I hardly got any studying done. He pressed a kiss on my temple before we parted ways. When I got to the library I took a seat in the corner as usual and began to sprawl my textbooks across the table.

In the midst of studying I heard giggles from a herd of girls a few tables over. Looking over I met eyes with Ianthe, a Slytherin also in sixth year, who was sitting alongside Sirius’s cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa. Though I had never spoken more than a few words to either of them, I knew I was not favored in the Black household. If anything, they probably hated me; although Sirius would never burden me with that confirmation, I knew how his family felt about me and “my kind.”

Being muggle born was still a rarity at Hogwarts, and one that pureblood families often had strong feelings against. Lily and I became fast friends because of this. Being two of the only Muggle born students at Hogwarts made fitting in quite hard sometimes. There were often things that we didn’t understand or we lost on. We relied on Marlene, Alice, and Dorcas a lot for explanations and now as of recently on the “Marauders,” as they called themselves, as well. But it was comforting to have Lily around, to have someone who understood experiences unique to us. Someone who understood what it felt like to miss basic muggle things while away at school, like televisions or even just pens.

I rolled my eyes at the giggling girls and went back to reading the next chapter in my textbook. Several minutes passed before my studying was interrupted again, this time I looked up to see the three slender girls approaching my table, a wicked grin plastered across each of their faces as they surrounded my table.

“Can I help you?” I breathed looking up from my book.

“Yes actually. Would you mind backing off of Sirius?” Ianthe mused as she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” I asked, Bellatrix laughed at my response, a cackle echoing across the room.

“I thought dating you would just be his latest phase but it’s been almost 6 months. I expected that he’d come crawling back to me by now but you seem to be standing in my way.” Ianthe ran her fingers over my notes and shuffled my things around as she spoke.

“In your way of what? Stealing my boyfriend?”

“Precisely.” Narcissa chimed in from behind the blonde haired girl.

“Honestly, Y/N. It’s kind of pathetic how you constantly follow Sirius around like a puppy dog. One day I’m sure he’ll bore of having a little pet mudblood and finally come back to his senses.” Bellatrix said, her tone was cold and cruel as she knocked over a few of my things and proceeded with a sarcastic oops.

“I mean our families have been practically planning our wedding since before we were even born.” Ianthe said trying to refocus my attention back on her.

“Shove off, the lot of you.” I said trying to ignore anymore of their remarks.

“Feisty today aren’t we, Y/N. I would’ve never expected such boldness from a filthy little mud blood.” Bellatrix said cackling again.

“Just leave me alone please.” My voice strained this time.

“You really do ruin all the fun, don’t you, Y/L/N? But before we go, I just have to ask, dear. Does our darling Padfoot still like to have his neck kissed? You know, just above that mole.” Ianthe tapped her finger to the side of her neck.

“You’re all sick.”

“Maybe but at least we don’t have dirty blood.”

My heart beat fast as I picked up my belongings from off the ground, desperately trying to get out of the library as quickly as possible. I ran through the corridors back toward Gryffindor tower, tears welling up in my eyes and slowly beginning to fall despite my best efforts to hold them back. I ran past the other students and back to my dormitory praying that it would actually be empty for once. It was not. Lily was sat on her bed reading a book when she looked up to see me tears running down my face while I tried to keep a cool demeanor. Her face cloaked in worry as she asked if I was okay, her words triggered a visceral reaction as I finally let myself break down in tears. She came over to me and brought me back to her bed and hugged me for a moment, stroking my back waiting until I was ready to speak.

After my sobs and sniffles had mostly come to a stop I recounted the entirety of what had happened in the library. Sharing the words exchanged between me and the three Slytherin girls and the doubt that now seeped into my mind. Lily fumed, her anger rising as she listened to me talk about what had happened.

“Y/N, you don’t actually believe that do you?” She asked, her face still cloaked with worry.

“I mean why shouldn’t I? She’s right, I’ve seen the way people look at us.”

“What does it matter what they think?”

“It’s not what they think, it’s the fact that they’re right. You know exactly how Sirius’ family is, I’m probably just another conquest to him. Girls like Ianthe were bred to marry boys like him, to protect their bloodlines. They’ve basically been betrothed since birth, Lily!”

“Sirius is his own person. He is not his family. You should know better than anyone that that boy lives to break rules. And I seriously doubt it but if he doesn’t appreciate how absolutely brilliant you are just because you were muggle born then he’s not worth your time.”

I knew Lily was right, it was rare that she wasn’t. But my mind still wandered to a dark place that echoed with Ianthe’s comments. She stayed with me for another hour or so before she got ready to go over to the Great Hall for dinner. I didn’t realize how long we had been sitting in the dorm. I looked over at the clock surprised to see it was almost 7. I promised Sirius I’d meet him in the astronomy tower soon. Surely I couldn’t face him after what had just happened but my heart hurt thinking about standing him up.

“You going to be alright?” Lily asked before heading out the door.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later.” I reassured her.

“Alright, if you need anything just give a shout.”

I sighed as she closed the door and headed off. I looked down at my mascara stained sleeves and quickly changed into a clean shirt and wiped away the smeared makeup from beneath my eyes. Regardless of how I felt, I had to face Sirius.

I walked through the empty halls over to the Astronomy tower. Springtime at Hogwarts had an underrated charm to it. The weather was ideal, chill but not too cold. Tonight was no different, the air tonight was crisp, the wind blew gently through my hair as I made my way up the winding staircase. When I made it to the very top I saw Sirius gazing across the school grounds. His face looking intently over the beautifully crafted buildings and through the lush forests around us. I stayed silent for a minute just to admire him. The handsome playboy that I always thought I loathed but whom had somehow not only stolen my heart but had also become my best friend.

When he finally sensed my presence he turned around, my heart fluttered just looking at the kind, dopey smile wiped across his face as he held out his hand for me. When I grabbed it, he pulled me in close. My face buried into his chest as he held me for a minute. I looked behind him to see a blanket laid across the ground a small picnic set up for us.

“Remus helped me bribe the house elves into sneaking me some food so we could have dinner up here.” He excitedly motioned over to the set up.

“It looks lovely, Sirius.” I spoke softly as if my words could be broken with just a tap.

“What’s wrong? Oh Merlin, you hate it, don’t you?” He asked worriedly.

“No it’s not that, it really is lovely. I just, I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why you’re doing this for me. You’re a pureblood and I’m...I’m a mudblood.” I took a step away from him, letting go on my grasp on his hand.

“What does that have to do with anything? You know I’ve never cared about any of that.”

“You should be going out with someone like Ianthe, not someone like me. Most people when they see us must be thinking, ‘oh he must be mad going out with that.’”

“That what” he said before raising his voice to echo the question, “that what?”

“You know exactly what, Sirius. Everyone does.”

“What the fuck are you on about? What does everyone have to do with how I feel about you? You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t fancy. That’s mine and mine alone. Now are you going to stop being a git or what?”

“Stop calling me a git, you’re the git.” I said trying to shove him away but his hands grasped my wrists before I could make my move.

Before I could say another word he crashed his lips into mine. His hands now releasing his grip on my wrists and instead caressing my face. Sirius had kissed me many times before but never with such urgency, like his life depended on it. Like if he didn’t kiss me in this exact moment that he’d never get to again. My hands now pressed up against his chest pulling him in closer to me as I savored the taste of him until we were breathless.

“You’re the git.” I whispered as we pressed our foreheads together, he let out a small laugh at my comment before he spoke again.

“Those twats, they aren’t my family. You are.” His thumb caressing my cheek softly.

“Sirius, I just—“

“You are my family.” He said firmly cutting me off before I could finish my sentence.

“Okay, you say that now but I just hate the idea that you’re choosing me over them. I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret your choice and start to resent me forever. I mean they’re your family, Sirius.” I rambled as doubt still riddled my brain.

“Y/N, listen to me, I will always choose you. I choose you today, tomorrow, and I’ll choose you forever for the rest of our lives. You are the only thing in this entire world I care about.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Yes, just maybe not to James, Remus, and Peter. I think they might burst into tears.” He let out loud laugh as he responded to my question.

“I won’t lie, I’d like to see that.”

“I bet you would. Now can we please eat dinner, I paid off the house elves 10 galleons each just so that they would make your favorite!”



[nakachuchu]

Hoodie Weather | Nishinoya Yuu

SYNOPSIS: You find a lost hoodie.

READER: gender neutral

WORDS: 1452

WRITTEN: 03/14/2021

It was especially cold that morning. Nishinoya was in a rush and didn't have time to put his hoodie on. He woke up late for school as usual and was rushing to get to Karasuno.

He rushed to slide his card through the machine to enter the subway. His hoodie was laying on top of the school bag he held in his hand.

On the other side of the subway's entrance, you were running down the stairs. You rushed onto the train just as the doors were about to close.

You attended a different school, but the subway went to the station near your school. You stood up, holding onto the railing tightly, sighing at how crowded it was.

The train stopped to let some passengers off, and you noticed a hoodie laying on the floor. You looked up to see the fluttering of a black uniform and dyed hair before the doors closed. The uniform seemed like a male uniform.

You crouched down to pick it up, stumbling to get up when the train jostled to start. You waited for your stop as usual, then got off and looked around while holding the hoodie in your hand.

The weather was cold. You hoped the student would be okay without their hoodie. You stared at the bundled hoodie in your hand before sighing and walking the opposite way.

You were dreading school. You didn't feel like going to school. You swung your arm back and forth. The hoodie slightly unbundled and slapped against the wind.

"Aren't you cold, Noya?" Tanaka asked.

Nishinoya did notice a slight chill throughout the school day, but he didn't think much of it because of the school's heating system.

"I actually am," Nishinoya muttered. "I swear I brought my hoodie with me."

"The white one?" Tanaka asked.

Nishinoya nodded.

"You love that hoodie so much, it's like your baby blanket."

Nishinoya frowned. "It's so warm and comfortable. I think I left it on the subway."

He sighed and leaned back on his chair, then rubbed his face. Tanaka scooted his chair next to Nishinoya and wrapped an arm around him.

"So what are you going to do? Are you going to try to find your hoodie?" Tanaka asked. "It's Friday, dude, so there's two days until school starts again."

"I'll have to hope it's still there," Nishinoya replied.

"Man, that sucks. You may have to buy a new one."

"But I don't want a new one," he whined. "I want that one. Have some faith in me finding it."

"Tons of people get on that subway throughout the week. I would have stolen it if I saw it," Tanaka retorted.

"You suck."

"Your mom sucks."

"Don't talk about what my mom sucks."

"Is that your boyfriend's hoodie, Y/N?" your friend asked.

You shook your head. "That's funny, but no. I picked it up on the subway. I was going to return to the person who dropped it, but he left before I could. I saw part of his uniform though."

"Are you going to keep it?"

"No. Wouldn't it be awkward if I was wearing it and he saw me? I'd be so embarrassed," you explained.

Your friend laughed. "Only you would overthink things like that."

You sighed. "I'll admit overthinking can be bad, but it can be good sometimes. On tests, it's horrible, but in everyday scenarios, it can come in handy."

"How?"

"Well, what if you thought you forgot your lunch, but you were too lazy to check, so you decide to leave the house without? So you're on your way to school already, but you start to get antsy with the thought of not eating during lunch while everyone else is eating. You end up checking inside your bag for your lunch, and it's not there. You go back home, find it's waiting for you on the counter, then you finally go to school," you ranted without pausing.

You were breathing heavily while your friend stared at you with her mouth open.

"The fact that you just thought of that example is what shocks me the most. But yeah, I see your point."

You snapped your fingers like a poet. "Thank you. So I'm going to try to find the guy who lost his hoodie, but I only know what his uniform looks like. I don't know what he looks like."

"Well, that'll be hard. It's the weekend tomorrow, so even if he does use the subway again, he won't be wearing his uniform."

You sighed. "I guess I'll just wait for Monday."

You didn't have to return the hoodie, but you were taught by your parents to return things to its owners.

Once you got home, you laid the hoodie down on your desk and stared at it.

"You're one small hoodie," you muttered. "The guy wearing you must be small."

As if the hoodie was calling to you, you reached out and grabbed it, unfolding the hoodie to put it on.

The sleeves were much longer than you thought they would be, but the torso seemed to fit fine. You hesitantly brought the sleeve of the hoodie to your nose and sniffed it.

It oddly smelled like the orange essential oil your mother liked to put around the house to make it smell good.

You decided to take it off before anything got weirder. You neatly folded it again and set it back on your desk.

You really hoped you'd be able to give it back to the right person and not a stranger.

It was Monday morning.

You woke up early today because you were determined to return the hoodie to its owner.

You stood up on your toes to search through the crowd of people at the station. You were trying to find the uniform of the student, even though you didn't know his face or his name.

You were ready to give up and try again, but then you saw his uniform leaving the station on the other side.

You checked the time on your watch. You would be a few minutes late to school, but you decided that returning the hoodie was more important than first period.

You ran after him, weaving through the crowd of people.

"Um - excuse me!" you shouted. "Excuse me! The shortie in the black uniform!"

"Who are you calling—"

His brain fired blanks when he saw how pretty you were. He couldn't believe someone as attractive as you was talking to him. He looked around and pointed to himself.

"Me?"

"Uh... Yes, you," you answered as you stopped in front of him, a few feet away.

Unlike Nishinoya who was breathing normally, you were huffing from the run. There was fog around your face as you exhaled and inhaled. You extended your arm out with the hoodie in your hand.

"I think this belongs to you," you said.

Nishinoya looked back and forth from the hoodie to your face. He walked closer to you and slowly grabbed his hoodie.

"Hey, thanks!" he exclaimed, feeling a huge weight off his shoulders. "I've been looking for this."

You softly smiled. "Yeah, I had a feeling. I should...go to school now. Um—it was nice meeting you."

Nishinoya nodded.

You began to turn around, but he grabbed your wrist. Not expecting that, you fell off balance and staggered back.

Your back pressed against his chest as he caught you. The two of you looked at each other. Your faces were only centimeters apart from each other. The two of you were spotting similar blushes.

"Yes?" you whispered.

"Um—Y-You didn't bring a jacket today. It's pretty cold. You should borrow this for today and return it to me another day," Nishinoya said.

"But how will I find you?" you asked.

"We could...exchange numbers?" he asked. "Only if you want to," he added.

His eyes darted around nervously. You laughed a bit and nodded.

"I'd like that."

"Really?" he asked. "All right!"

"Maybe you could let me go first," you suggested.

"O-Oh, s-sorry!"

He quickly let go of you and stepped away, rubbing his neck nervously. You smiled and took out a piece of paper and a pen from your school bag. You leaned in and pressed the paper against his chest. He stiffened from how close you were. You wrote down your number on the paper, then tucked it into his pocket.

"I'll see you later?" you questioned.

"Uh-huh," he absentmindedly answered.

You smiled and waved goodbye to him as you jogged in the direction of your school. Nishinoya blinked at the spot you once stood at and took your number out from his pocket.

"Y/N, huh?" He grinned. "Tanaka's never gonna believe this!"

[acraftedmistake]

A Person Who Has Never Played MCSM Writes A Story About MCSM Chp. 22

Jesse went through that stupid, old, rickedy staircase for what? A busted up study room? Not even a FULL room, but HALF of one–with most it’s walls missing? Great. Perfect. Almost having the stairs collapse under him and nearly falling through that hole in the middle was totally worth it.

Whatever.

He’s here now. There’s no way he’s going back down to be with Cecil again. There’s gotta be something in here to kill time.

Jesse wanted to walk around, but there wasn’t even enough space to do THAT in here. Furniture, shards of glass, and chunks of stone were all over the floor which blocked off a good portion of the path and spilled onto the carpet. Sure, if Jesse absolutely wanted to, he could awkwardly walk in a half-circle here.

This area isn’t anything special, either. This just looked like a smaller version of the nave below, yet somehow even more cramped and in shambles. There might not have been tons of chairs all around the floor, but there was still clutter. Garbage. Cushions from worn out couches and armchairs were on the floor; they were absolutely disgusting. Mold grew from their strange stains, while the wood of the seats and tables had mushrooms sprouting from their legs. The metals of broken weapons and candle holders were rusted. Tree roots had managed to crawl their way up the walls and onto the floor. If bookshelves weren’t torn to pieces, they were covered in cobwebs and missing half their shelves. Whatever books they used to hold had been torn apart by the weather. Pages were missing, inks were smeared, hardly any of them were of any use now.  

The rug in the center, despite it’s elegant, maroon color, it’s entangled patterns, and it’s lush feel, meant nothing now. It was soiled. It’s ends had been ripped apart and reduced to their threads. The empty eye in the center had been filled with short, stubby mushrooms. The one thing in this room Jesse would’ve considered a fine craft had been tainted by time.

The only thing in here that Jesse even considered decent were the pieces of purple and red glass thrown across the floor. At least when the moonlight hit the shards it gave him something pleasant to look at. Something that wasn’t those rigidity shelves or broken tables or whatever other junk was taking up too much space!

Jesse kicked the leg of a nearby desk. He breathed heavily through his teeth while Cecil’s words rang in his head.  

Worthless… Obnoxious… Pathetic excuse of a Sense. Of a person.

What does he know? What does HE know? He doesn’t have friends. Nobody loves him. Does he think getting touchy with the members counts as friendship? Not even the Visions can stand him–what makes Cecil think he can lecture Jesse about FRIENDS of all things?!

The knuckles of Jesse’s fists turned white.

Hopefully Cecil gets crushed by rubble. Or gets stuck in a room and suffocates. Or debris hits his head hard enough and he bleeds out.

What pisses Jesse off even more is knowing he’s gonna have to see Cecil again. See that stupid, blond lock of hair in his face that Jesse just wants to tear off. Oh, how he’d love to tear off.

Yeah, Jesse could just leave without Cecil, but coming back empty handed would just make the Visions even more disappointed, and Cecil will absolutely snitch on him the second he can.

Jesse stared at the crooked drawers of the desk he kicked.

There probably wasn’t anything good in them, but he didn’t want to go back downstairs. Not yet. He’ll just… Go through the drawers… Any of them. All of them, and claim he was ‘searching’. Hell, he’ll look through each and every nasty book here if it meant he’d spend a few more minutes away from Cecil.

Jesse started with the first drawer. Big surprise. Nothing inside it.

He opened the second. Just a couple of old pens and a hole through the middle.

Jesse spent the next several minutes searching through anything he could. Most of the things he found weren’t anything great. Empty ink bottles, sachets that probably used to carry redstone dust, more pens, and books which were actually in nice condition. There wasn’t anything special inside them, though.

Jesse then turned to face the other side of the room where the walls were missing, and he could see the miles upon miles of forests, scorched plains, and hills.

A large pile of rubble sat in front of the hole, and buried underneath the rocks  was a table.

Jesse approached it and grabbed the handle of it’s longest draw before he carefully pulled it out. He didn’t want any stones on top tumbling and crushing his foot.  

He stopped when the drawer was just a crack open and slipped his fingers inside. He felt around, his fingers touching a pen, glass bottles, and—a sudden softer, smoother surface. That’s strange…

He felt around for a moment more.

He’s felt this texture before. The Visions have old notes and scrolls that were exactly like this.

Jesse dug his nails underneath the paper’s edges and pulled them out. He actually managed to grab multiple sheets instead of just the one.

These papers were about as old as the building itself, Jesse bet. Their colors have turned to a light, tawny yellow, and there were a couple of tea stains on them, but besides that, their condition was actually pretty good. He could make out the text and sketches just fine.

Jesse skimmed the contents and frowned. Cursive. He could hardly read cursive. But these looked like notes for the old Visions that used to live here; their Sense probably wrote it for them. Jesse had seen Cecil write for their Visions before. Any reminders, lessons, or plans they had, Cecil would always write whenever the Visions weren’t able to do so themselves.

Jesse had also noticed the paper had indents, creases, and other small, raised symbols on it. Lines for the Visions to run their fingers over.

Jesse flipped over a few pages but stopped when he landed on a particular drawing. A study of a flint and steel, though not like the ones he’s seen before. The striker was more of a sharp, fishhook shape than the familiar “C” shape, while the flint itself looked… Chunkier, as if something had been merged with it. There were also stripes that stretched across the base, making it look like it’s been cracked.

A bit of hopefulness was sparked in Jesse. A small smile managed to make its way onto his face.

Splitting off from Cecil was a great idea–it always is–because now they’re getting even closer to activating that portal! The Visions should be able to figure out what items they need for the flint and steel! Then they’ll get it all set up, and Lukas will be pulled through, and Olivia will be there to watch, and they’ll both be so happy! Then they can meet the Visions, and they can get supplies together! And they could–they could…

Jesse’s smile weakened.

They’d…

They’d wanna stay with him, right?

Jesse lowered the papers and looked out into the field again. It was far, but he could see Obsidian Town’s walls.

Olivia and Lukas they’re… They’re his friends. They loved him. They aren’t like Aiden and the others. They’re nicer, sweeter.

Why wouldn’t they want to be with him? After all they’ve been through together, they wouldn’t hate him, right?

All those adventures, aid and comfort, those happy, happy moments, Lukas and Olivia wouldn’t turn him away because of The Awakening of all things, surely. They’d understand–especially Olivia! She’s the most understanding person he knows! She didn’t get mad when he told her about… About…

Olivia…

The vision of Olivia in the doorway of his old home standing next to Aiden flashed in his mind. Jesse crinkled the papers.

Aiden was standing so close to her. Too close.

He’s probably been… Been telling Olivia nothing but lies. Probably trying to convince her to stay as far away from Jesse as possible. Trying to convince her to hurt him. Hate him. Kill him. And what if—what if Olivia doesn’t remember what happened in the underground temple? What if she misremembers? What if his ex-friends try to manipulate her? Lie to her? Lie to make the Awakening look bad? To get back at Jesse?

Olivia–-she—she has to remember what they talked about. What he told her. She should remember their moment together, right?

Jesse remembered. Even after all this time, after all he’s been through, he still remembered the tearful and caring expression on her face, and the embracing, warm hug she gave before the quake happened. Before she fell.

Jesse kept staring at Obsidian Town.

He carefully folded the papers and slid them into his pocket. He sat on the pile of debris and let the cold wind hit his face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Cecil wiped his eyes as he stormed through the barren halls.

You’re wasting time.

Every second you spend wandering in the shrine feeling sorry for yourself is a second you could’ve spent helping the Visions. Helping Antonin.

Cecil couldn’t help it though. As much as he hated crying–as much as he despised it–tears would run down his face.

How would the Visions feel knowing their Sense was crying over nonsense?

Cecil’s a Sense–a leader–someone the members look up to. Someone the Visions can count on to assist them, to help them where their sight can’t, to work his absolute hardest both in and out of the shrine. Not someone who gets worked up over petty words.

At least when the Visions scolded him, it was rightfully deserved. They were hard on him so he could see his flaws and shortcomings, so he could improve on them, so he could become his best self.

The Visions were tough on him because they cared. They know he can do better. Cecil knows he can do better.

Not just for the Visions’ sake, but for Antonin’s. Antonin had chosen Cecil to become the next Sense, to become the next seeing eye for the future Visions and members of the Awakening, and Cecil absolutely refuses to let him down.

The fire of Cecil’s torch was dying, the halls were growing darker, but Cecil paid them no mind. He gripped onto the straps of his brown bag and proceeded.

Jesse… How dare he. How dare he even utter Antonin’s name. The same man he and his horrible friends took away from The Awakening. The same man who was always there to comfort Cecil, to always make the Visions laugh, to always whisk the members to safety whenever quakes struck. A glorious man. It doesn’t matter if Jesse hates the enemies, he still helped them. He still helped them murder Antonin. Cecil will never forgive him.

When The Awakening brings everyone back, Cecil prays that Jesse’s friends will leave him. He prays that they don’t even look at him. He prays that Jesse will never feel loved again.

Cecil shoved his other hand into his pocket and felt for the torn piece of cloth inside. The piece of Antonin. The only piece he was able to keep. He rubbed it between his fingers and took a deep breath.

When Antonin returns and reunites with everyone, Cecil hopes that Antonin will never give Jesse the warmth he’s gifted to everyone else.

Antonin trusted Cecil. Antonin cared about Cecil! What does Jesse know about Antonin?! Nothing.

Cecil threw open an old door. It slammed against the wall and echoed through another. Miserable. Hall.

Cecil continued through the hallway, seething to himself, but he soon stopped when he reached a staircase leading down. How nice, a change of pace from all these disgusting, mossy stone walls and long, stained carpets.

He went down and paid no mind to the rubble and broken junk lying on the ground. The sound of wood creaked under his shoes and filled the silence. A terrible, rotten smell was growing stronger with each step he took. Cecil wouldn’t be surprised if someone got murdered back here and was left here to decay.

He was dreading turning the corner. Whatever was the source of that smell was going to be on the other side. It was probably going to be something disgusting like–

Cecil gasped and stumbled back.

It’s–

It’s the portal! They found it–no, he found it.

He knew he didn’t need Jesse for this, oh, he knew it!

This makes all that bickering worth it. He needs to get a better look and write all this down!

Cecil rushed towards the dead portal no longer caring for it’s foul smell as he dug in his bag for his notepad and pen, only to fumble and spill them onto the floor, and nearly dropping his torch in the process.

He hissed to himself. It’ll be a pain to write down the materials with just one hand, but there wasn’t anything he could mount his torch on, and placing a lit torch on a wooden floor? A wonderful idea if he wanted to be united with the Hero early.

Cecil frantically looked around, hoping a solution to his problems would appear somewhere, ANYWHERE, but then he stopped.

Jesse.

Cecil groaned before marching right back up the stairs.

He dragged himself through the halls, wondering if having his lungs filled with smoke would be a better alternative, until he finally reached the staircase where he last saw Jesse.

“Jesse!” Cecil hollered.

No response.

“Jesse, I know you’re up there!”

“What do you want?” He heard Jesse respond, his voice barely audible.

“I want you to make yourself useful. I found the portal, no thanks to you, and the Visions need those materials.” Cecil tapped his foot as he listened to the footsteps above. He was pleasantly surprised to see Jesse hurry down in such short notice, though neither of them were happy to see each other again.

“You found the portal?” Jesse asked, catching his breath.

“Yes. Now come on.” Cecil held his head high as he spun around and led Jesse to the room.

When they descended down the stairs and reached the lower hallway, Jesse’s face scrunched at the smell. Cecil just kept walking, picking up his dropped items, and stopping when they got close to the deactivated portal.

Whatever the portal was built out of was finely polished. Flakes of gold that were mixed into the material glistened from the torch’s light.

Jesse hovered over Cecil, “So what do you want me to do? Take it apart?”

“Heavens no!” Cecil exclaimed, “You will absolutely not! You’d be vandalizing this ancient shrine’s treasure and dishonoring the Hero and past works of the old Visions!”

Jesse clenched his teeth, “Then what do you expect me to do? Stand around and–”

“You’ll hold this, that’s what.” Cecil shoved the torch into Jesse’s hands, nearly burning his face. “I need to see what this is made out of, so you will hold the torch close to the portal, and that’s it. Think you can manage doing something as simple as that?”

“Gonna be real hard not to melt your skin off.” Jesse muttered.

“Hm? What was that?”

“I’m holding it, I’m holding it.”

Jesse stood still as Cecil took his sweet time observing the portal while occasionally jotting down notes and feeling the surface.

Jesse stared down at Cecil. He stared at combed back, wavy, blond hair and felt… Tempted.

Cecil loves his hair. Loves it.

Jesse slowly lowered the torch to Cecil’s head. It’d be deserving if his hair was set ablaze. If he was engulfed by flames. After how insufferable Cecil’s been. He deserves it–

“Alright. We’re done here.” Cecil slammed his notepad closed. Jesse quickly pulled the torch away.

“Bout time.” Jesse said. He started to stormed ahead. He didn’t even bother to wait for blondie. He wanted to leave this miserable place as soon as he could.

He hates being here. He hates being away from his friends. And he hates Cecil.

[silverpaintedstars]

How the Son of Shadows was Cast Out--Chapter 2!! Next chapter’ll get fun. I had fun with scenes here. @bookdragon1811 and i’m not sure who else wanted to be tagged lol. 

Prologue | Chapter One | 

Chapter Two: Cade’s Caravansary

Inside was a cacophony of what could be defined as chaos--but Elliot wasn’t quite sure. He followed Reaper around inside like a lost puppy--but he felt like one. 

The shack was wooden with few windows, and a set of old stairs led upstairs. There were tables scattered with no apparent order at all throughout, and a random company occupied the chairs, snippets of conversation floating towards Elliot’s ears. 

He pulled his dripping hood over his head, wanting to melt away from all this, feeling terribly uncomfortable. Reaper, however, seemed completely comfortable here, which didn’t surprise Elliot. He seemed like the type of person who would just--fit in anywhere he wished.

Unlike Elliot.

His cloak dripped onto the rickety floor as he walked through the door with Reaper. When he carelessly let the door slam shut behind him, everyone immediately stopped what they were doing and looked up at them. After a second of pure silence but the rain beating against the side of the building in the background, of being scrutinized by everyone, they were left alone again, just two more travelers to spend the night away. 

“Welcome to Cade’s Caravansary,” Reaper said to Elliot. “All permitting we can stay here until weather permits us to continue on.” He swept a look across the room. “Hopefully by tomorrow.” 

Elliot took a second to try and figure out whether that was the actual name, or simply another one that Reaper mused up, until he saw the sign posted on the wall. Long-ago scratched words on wood: Cade’s Caravansary. He didn’t know what a caravansary was, but he guessed it was here. 

Reaper walked up to the small corner desk where a man sat, boredly flipping through a large, weathered book that looked like some sort of logbook. Reaper stood in front of the man a second, before clearing his throat and getting the man to look up. 

“Reaper!” the man said, closing the book. He didn’t see Elliot yet, which was understandable, seeing as Elliot still had his sopping hood over his face and was standing behind Reaper. 

“Cade,” Reaper said, not quite matching the man’s level of hype, which Elliot got, seeing as they were tired. That could be their excuse. 

“Here for the night?” Cade asked, digging out an ink pen. 

Reaper took a second. “If there’s space available, I suppose we might as well, seeing as this storm doesn’t appear to be letting up anytime soon.”

Cade paused. “We?”

Reaper stepped aside, letting the pale light of the lantern on Cade’s desk wash over Elliot. 

“Ah,” Cade said, sweeping his oily hair over his forehead and opening the same book, running his finger over the messy writings. “We have two rooms on the third floor--small ones, but rooms nonetheless.” 

“That’s fine,” Reaper said, digging into a pocket and placing (NOT A COIN WE CAN DO BETTER) on the table. Cade scooped it up, placing it in a box with others. He then dug two wooden keys out of a drawer with tags attached and handed them to Reaper. 

“Enjoy your stay,” he said as Reaper turned and handed Elliot one of the keys. It was roughly carved, and the little worn tag read 46. 

“The rooms are upstairs,” Reaper said. Oddly enough he seemed like in some sort of hurry that Elliot didn’t understand. He only nodded, having barely said a word since arriving. As they walked across the room to the stairs in the corner, he kept his head low, avoiding eye contact with the others in the room, but as he moved his head, he locked eyes with one for a second.

A dark figure in the darkest corner, with a hood low over their face, but oddly enough, it seemed they had glowing eyes. That or they had a lantern in there. In that split second, Elliot felt a cold wash over him, like the person was reading deep into his soul. He broke the contact and dashed towards the stairs. 

The room was dark when Elliot swung the creaky door open. Reaper had gone straight into his room across the hall with barely four words and leaving Elliot alone. He couldn’t shake that strange feeling he’d gotten from that stranger downstairs. He didn’t really know what had happened, but whatever it was it had felt really--weird. 

The room was on the third floor, the highest one. Elliot crossed the room and opened the moss-eaten curtains where the dark, desolate landscape spanned across. He could see barely nothing, the shadow from the caravansary’s light going much further than the light did. He turned from the window and to the small table where a lamp and a small pile of matches were. He struck one and lit the lamp, letting the flame flicker and cast a soft glow over the room. 

Cade hadn’t been wrong, the room was small. Barely room for the single bed, an even smaller nightstand, the lamptable and an empty wooden shelf. Exhausted, he locked the door and took his damp cloak off. He ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t really sure what to think or do. 

He could start with sleeping, but he knew that if he tried to, his brain would still lie awake. But he didn’t exactly have energy to think now. It couldn’t be that late, either, though there was no clock in the room to confirm that. A small part of him wanted to go ask Reaper questions in hope he had the answers, but he had seemed pretty tired, and Elliot didn’t want to disturb him if he was sleeping. 

So he sat there in quiet a few moments, rubbing his hands and looking around the room. Then the flicker of the lantern in a mirror caught his gaze. But he hesitated. Did he really want to see how his father had scarred him? Did he want to see his weathered, beaten self? 

The answer was yes, he wanted to see what others saw. Wanted to see what Reaper had seen that made him want to make sure he was fine. Wanted to see what others saw if they judged him. 

Gingerly he slid off the tall bed, his boots making the floor creak underneath. Crossing the room to the mirror, he didn’t look directly at it just yet--readying himself. 

Then he looked. 

A jagged scar now ran down under his left eye to his jaw, rough and healing. His eyes bore a new sort of pain and readiness that wasn’t there before--and oh, that old nervousness and scaredness was still there. But he seemed a tad more burdened now. His hair hung in damp clumps over his forehead, the reddishness more muted in the light. The peaks of his Elf ears could be seen under them. 

It wasn’t as terrible as he had been expecting--but it was, at the same time. It was different, and changes are always hard to navigate at first glimpses. But he doubted that scar would heal completely--it would always be there, a reminder of what had happened and that fatal day. It could have been yesterday--or a week ago, depending on how long he had been out. He did look more frail, but that could just be from strain. Or from not eating for a week or two. 

He shook these thoughts off and staggered back to the bed, flopping back down with a defeated sigh. It wasn’t a very comfortable bed, but it was better than cold ground. Before he really realized that he was, he had slipped into a deep sleep.

The light of dawn woke him early, lying on top of the bed in his dry-er clothes. Sun streamed through the window--the kind of filtered sunlight that comes after a storm, but sun nonetheless. Elliot groaned and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He felt rested, which was a good thing, he supposed. Sleep was supposed to do that. He slid off the bed and shook off the few last drops of water, the rest having dried overnight. 

Elliot walked over to the window and peered out, the lamp having burnt out through the night. The same landscape he and Reaper had come though in the wet last night was now sunlit and glistened with dew, a few low-lying clouds dotting the horizon. 

He heard a soft knock at the door and started, softly walking over to the door. “Wh-who is it?” he asked, not being able to see through the wood. 

“Reaper,” he heard through the door. It sounded like him, but Elliot grabbed a stray cane that had been left by the door and slowly opened it. 

Reaper pushed it open the rest of the way, walking through and closing it behind him. “You’ll need far more training before you can properly use something like that,” he said to Elliot, who was still holding the cane.

He set it down in confusion. “T-training?”

Reaper ignored the question, locking the door. “Well, today we go on to Holden,” he said instead. He wore the black eye mask again. 

“Right,” Elliot said, his tone not really excited or ready for that. 

“There are a few things you may need to know beforehand,” Reaper continued. “Do you recall what I mentioned before with people not quite sympathizing with elves?” 

Elliot nodded, perching on the bed close to the window. 

“Well, that is how it will be there. I would doubt we could find anyone to take us in if they knew. It is like that here, but luckily no one saw anything last night. You will need to conceal your Elvish features at all times.”

“Oh.” Elliot knew he needed to add more words to that sentence but he couldn’t quite find them. They couldn’t find some other place?

“And I would avoid anything to bring you--or me--to a place like that,” Reaper continued, “but you need somewhere proper to sleep and medicine in your condition, and we could only find that in Holden. So we’ll go there for now.”

“Will-will I stay with you there?” Elliot asked. 

“I do not have a house there,” Reaper answered, “but I would not leave you alone until you have figured out what you will do and how.”

Elliot doubted he would do that but he stayed silent.

“Now, we do need food, which they will have downstairs,” Reaper said, casting a glance around Elliot’s small room. “Do you have your cloak?” 

Elliot pointed to in front of the bed where it lay in a damp and messy pile. “Er, yeah.”

Reaper frowned, picking it up and shaking it out. “It’s dry enough and you’ll need to wear it,” he said, tossing it to Elliot who scrambled to catch it. He slid it on, and while it was dry, it had that strange smell cloth tends to pick up when it dries in a pile on the floor. 

“I think that was it,” Reaper said, placing a hand on the doorknob. “We will go downstairs to get food provisions and then we will leave.” He unlocked the door and opened it, pausing before stepping out and turning back to Elliot. “Are you ready?”

No, he wasn’t. That was the answer he should have gave, but instead he responded with a very unsteady “Yes”. 

Reaper nodded. “Alright then. Off we can go.”

Elliot followed Reaper out of the room, looking back at the room he spent one night in, his first night out of Orlem, free within limits. Then he closed the door and walked behind Reaper, down the hall. 

What he didn’t see, however, was a dark, hooded figure peering out of their own door. 

Elliot and Reaper walked down the stairs in silence, Elliot slipping his hood over himself before they entered the main downstairs, remembering Reaper’s words. He didn’t really want to experience firsthand the judgment and unfriendliness that he’d mentioned. That was one hand he could deal without. 

They walked out of the cramped staircase hall into the still-dim dining hall. It wasn’t as crowded as last night, but there were still a good bit there, considering it was half hour after sunrise. Reaper payed no one there any attention, briskly walking across the room and weaving around tables to the far side of the room, by Cade’s desk, where no one sat behind it at this early hour. 

“We get food--where?” Elliot asked, confused, clumsily following Reaper around. 

“At the back,” Reaper said, walking around the desk, Elliot following. There behind the desk was a small wooden shelf nailed to the wall with a few baskets of random assorted food. Apples, breads, and other messily packaged things. 

“Now, the reason we are up so early,” Reaper said as he threw things into a bag, “is yes, for the fact that we will arrive in Holden sooner, but also so that Cade does not witness us taking his food supply.”

“W-wait, we’re stealing it?” Elliot asked, looking around nervously.

“He’s lending it to us,” Reaper said, turning back to Elliot, drawing the bag closed. “And he doesn’t yet know it.”

Elliot wasn’t really sure how he felt about this, but he was hungry so he didn’t really argue. None of the few other peoples in the room payed them any attention as they stepped out from behind the desk and towards the main doors. Reaper tossed Elliot the bag of food, who fumbled to catch it as he opened the door and they stepped out.

There was that leftover smell of dampness that comes after a rainstorm, which Elliot didn’t mind at all. The ground was still wet and soggy, and squished under their feet as they walked, past the Caravansary in silence. 

Elliot opened the bag of food and dug out a slice of bread, nibbling at it. He’d half expected it to be stale or along the lines of that, but it was actually in edible condition. There wasn’t really any conversation between the two as they walked. 

About half an hour in, they stopped to rest on the crest of a hill, looking down into the valley, where through the mist that settled down there, could be seen buildings. 

“You see it?” Reaper asked, pointing down. “That is our destination. Holden.” 

[write-orflight]

Like Real People Do. Chapter 4

*Gif not mine*

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Sexual themes, talk about sex (not NSFW though), fainting, reader just being thirsty in general. 

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N We’re getting into the main crux of the story now! Message to be added to the taglist. thanks for reading! Much love, Cia

                Chapter 4: Why were you digging?  

Months pass and the early spring turns into hot humid D.C summer. You were never a big fan of the summer, you preferred the colder months despite the bad memories you had associated with them. 

Things changed and some things stayed the exact same. You caught bad guys, which was typical, you actually ended up getting tackled by a drunk Unsub once which results in you being out of the field with a broken arm for four weeks. You found a cat in an alley digging through the trash near your apartment one day when you were walking home. You left food out for him since until one day he decided to come up to you. And now you have a cat you affectionately named Garbage. 

You and Ethan (the guy from the bar) had a “situation-ship”, as Garcia liked to call it for about a month and a half. In your opinion, there was no situation-ship, you guys had mediocre sex until he wanted more and was upset you “worked too much”. So when he “broke up” with you, you weren’t really upset. Your heart wasn’t in it anyway. 

You and Spencer never talked about that night at the bar. In fact, you hardly talked at all. Your Saturday’s together stopped, you had no excuse to see each other now you were finished with school. Now that there was no thesis, there was no thesis for him to help with. 

That didn’t stop Spencer from occupying the space in your head rent-free though. You couldn’t help yourself, he was always in the forefront of your mind and frankly it was starting to affect how you worked. It was a paperwork day and everyone was working silently, merely coexisting and since there was nothing really going on your mind couldn’t help but wander. Spencer was sitting across you reading case files, taking occasional notes in a legal pad next to him. Your eyes instantly went to his hands as he traced it down the page as he often did when he was reading. You studied them for a while, long slender fingers resting on massive palms. You never thought you were someone who’d be attracted to hands but the amount of times you thought about them on particularly lonely nights, specifically the things he could do with them. 

Yea, it was enough to make you a cheirophile. 

You went back to watching him when suddenly one of the aforementioned hands were waving in your face. 

“Y/N” he said. “I’ve been calling your name for 3 minutes.” 

“I’m sorry, Spen.” You flush instantly at being caught. “What did you need?” 

“I asked if you had a red pen I could borrow?” 

“Yea.” You rummaged through your drawer, producing the pen in question. His hand brushes yours as he grabs it, you try very hard not to shiver at the contact but you couldn’t help it. “Keep it.” you say. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He says. “You’ve been extremely out of it lately.”

He was right, you have been out of it lately. Spencer was putting you out of it. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that night at the bar and your almost kiss. Since then, it was like he was trying to constantly bring your attention to his mouth, whether it was by his habit of stealing lollies from Garcia’s office or the constant biting and licking of his lips whenever he was deep in thought. They had seared their way into your frontal lobe without permission. 

Working with him had become exceptionally hard and an unwelcome distraction, especially out in the field. Last month, the two of you had gone undercover in a nightclub, an unsub had been murdering young couples who were overly affectionate in public, so you had to spend the night practically wrapped around the man you had an insane crush on, breathing in his scent. You sipped your “cocktail” (it was just cranberry juice) as Spencer kept his arm steady around your waist. Eventually, you hear Emily in the earpiece you were wearing. 

“You’ve gotta do more guys if we’re going to draw him out.” She says. 

“Yea and loosen up. If  you guys look uncomfortable, no ones going to believe you’re a couple.” Morgan adds. 

You and Spencer look at each other for a beat.  

“If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you’ll tell me right?” He whispers to you. You nod instantly. Suddenly Spencer’s arm is tighter around you, pulling you flush to his body. He dips down attaching his lips to your neck and jawline. You gasp, you had not been expecting that at all, you clutch your drink harder other hand moving to his side. He pulls you in tighter somehow, suddenly you feel his hand move downward until he is palming your ass, you bite your lip to keep your composure but his lips suddenly meet that spot behind your earlobe that he couldn’t have possibly known about prior. A quiet moan unintentionally rips through you and you could’ve sworn you felt his fingers twitch, squeezing your ass slightly. Emily and Morgan were right, the Unsub did approach you guys shortly after that and led you into the alley like he did so many couples before only to be met by your badges and guns. 

Then there was the time a couple of months ago when you and Reid had gone to interview a child psychiatrist and discovered that he was a molester. Spencer had been livid talking to the man, making threats that honestly should've been promises to throw the man in jail. You had never seen Spencer angry or at the very least this angry, and for some reason that turned you on beyond belief. 

You decided to close that can of worms and save it for another day. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” You say, smiling tightly at him turning back to your stack of files. You couldn’t be mad at Spencer for your inability to keep it in your pants while you were working. So that’s what you did, worked and tried to avoid Spencer as much as you could. And if that night from the club replayed in your head often while you were alone in your bed that night like many nights before, it was no one’s business but your own. 

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

In the morning, you woke to the sound of construction equipment being used next to your apartment. D.C’s already so dense. What more could they be building?   You thought as you got up to make yourself a much needed cup of coffee. 

Now without your schoolwork or  standing date with Spencer, Saturdays always felt too long. You drank your coffee, read a book, watched some TV and when you looked at the time it was still only noon. You sighed heavily before getting up to get changed. The weather was nice, you hoped a jog would at the very least tire you out so you could waste a couple hours napping. 

So off you went, down the path of a nearby park. You had been jogging for about 30 minutes when you see a familiar shape in the distance. As you get closer you notice it’s exactly who you wanted it to be. 

“Hey, Spen!” You say excitedly as you slow to a stop in front of him. He looks up from the book he was reading on the bench. He smiles once he sees you. “Y/N, Hey.” He says. 

“What’re you doing in the park alone?” You ask. 

He lifts up his book. “I just came to read, thought a change of scenery would do me better than sitting around my apartment.” He says 

“Same here. Now that I finished school, it feels like I have too much time in the day. Now it just feels like I’m doing stuff just to keep myself busy, hence the jogging.” You say lifting your leg slightly, pointing out the running shoes you were wearing. You felt his eyes slowly trail up your bare legs, taking in your form slowly and diligently as if he thought he would forget it all the second he blinked. His eyes finally stopped at yours and you released the breath you didn’t know you holding. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your book. I’ve still got 2 miles to go.” You say, as you start to jog away, you hear Spencer call out to you. You stop and turn back. “Yea?” you ask. 

“Umm…” He says trailing off before taking a breath. “I’m going to see a movie later, I was hoping maybe you’d wanna come? It’s in french, but I can whisper-translate for you.” He says. 

“Yea sure, I’m doing anything else.” You say, a little too excitedly. Calm down, Y/N, he didn’t even say it was a date. You think to yourself. “What time should I meet you there?” 

“7?” He says. 

“Great! See you at 7, Reid!” You say before jogging away. 

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

You leave your house around 6:45, after spending about an hour and a half trying to find something to wear. Since it wasn’t a date, or since he didn't say it was one, you opted for something casual. A pair of comfortable jean shorts and your favorite band’s t-shirt. You did light makeup, and after an inspection in the mirror you decided you looked the right amount of cute and comfortable. 

Spencer was waiting outside the theater when you arrived. He was dressed casually too, a blazer over a simple t-shirt, cuffed jeans and converse. He smiles brightly at you as you walk up to join him. 

He insists on paying for the movie and you have to fight him to get him to let you at least pay for snacks but soon you are seated in the almost empty theater together. 

He moves close to you as the movie starts, whispering translations in your ear. At some point halfway through the movie, his arm ends up around your back as he continues to translate, your hand falls instinctively to his thigh. 

The movie ends eventually, and the two of you begin to walk outside together. You know a really good ice cream place that’s not a far walk from the theatre so you suggest going Spencer instantly says yes. You guys walk in silence for a while before you open your mouth to say something. 

“Can I confess something to you?” You ask him. 

He turns and looks at you. “Yea, what is it?” 

“Je parle quatre langues, dont une est le français.” (I speak four languages, one of which is french.) You say. 

He looks at you incredulously. “Pourquoi m'avez-vous laissé traduire le film entier pour vous?” (Why did you let me translate the entire movie for you?) He asks 

“Tu veux dire, pourquoi t'ai-je laissé chuchoter à mon oreille pendant deux heures d'affilée?” (You mean, Why did I let you whisper in my ear for two hours straight?) You smile flirtatiously at him. “Je suis sûr que tu peux comprendre celui-là.” (I'm sure you can figure that one out) You nudge him with your arm. “Come on, I believe you owe me ice cream.” 

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

You and Spencer, deciding you don’t want the night to end just yet,  take your ice cream and walk to a park. You lick lazily at the cone you opted for opposed to the cup he got. You guys seem to try and catch up on everything the two of you had done since your last coffee shop visit. He tells you about the books and Doctor’s journals he’s read. You explain to him the entire plot of the latest season of Drag race. You talk and talk and talk, to the point you don’t even realize it’s getting late. 

“It’s late.” he says, “We should head back.” 

And so you do, the two of you walk back to your cars parked near the movie theatre in semi-silence. As the two of you approach your driver door, you turn to look at each other. 

“This was fun, to hang out, I mean.” You say. 

“Yea, it was.” He adds. “I’d like to do it more, if you don’t mind.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’d love that.” you say. 

He takes a step closer to you and you do the same. This was it, he was finally going to kiss you. He looks down at your lips and up to your eyes again as if searching for the approval you give a quick tiny nod. He smiles, moving a hand to the side of your head leaning into you--

Your phone rings. He takes a step back. 

Moment ruined.   

You look at your caller ID. “It’s Hotch.” you say, he nods at you while you answer the phone “Y/L/N” you say. 

“Y/N/N, you need to meet me at the office. Right now.” He says. 

“Why sir? Is there a case?” You ask. 

“No case.” He says. “Gabriel Ferguson’s date has been set.” 

That name. 

You tried everyday to forget that name. 

The name of the man who took your family. 

Your innocence. 

Your way of life. 

Gabriel Ferguson. 

The Beechwood Killer. 

You freeze. Spencer is watching you, concerned now. “W-Why do you need me to come in for that?” You stutter. 

“Because… he’s refusing to tell us where he dumped the first bodies.” Hotch pauses. “Until he speaks to you.” 

You drop your phone. 

The last thing you hear is Spencer calling out to you while everything fades to black.

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