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mdhwrites · 11 months ago

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Diane and Kat: My Original Lesbians

Diane and Kat: The Bound Bands (available for free until the end of the 15th! A decision I made while writing this. XD) was my first original story. Released on August 5th, 2016, it was my first book ever released and worked on over the course of four months. Today I just feel like talking about them and what led to them.

So first... Going original wasn't my idea. It was something I was considering but it was actually someone else in the MLP Fandom that first talked to me about how they wanted to do original works. The two of us had tried to work together in the past, they liked my work and I like to attempt to collaborate. By the end of the day, I had the main concept for the two main characters already written up.

Now mind you, I say ATTEMPT to collaborate. I have literally had more success collaborating in the TOH fandom, the fruits of which no longer are publicly available, than I did in five years? of being the MLP fandom. I would always get brought on for a project, have a ton of ideas and write my portion quickly and then NOTHING WOULD HAPPEN. So for about a week the two of us lightly brainstormed and then it just kind of... died. I think maybe the first chapter had been written by me, maybe part of the second, but they never contributed to the writing of it and a lot of the brainstorming was primarily my own because of how fast my brain works.

The big contribution I remember they added was a piece of advice: "Don't make it about their sexuality." It's a line that stuck with me because you can actually see how it manifests in the second chapter. The mayor who is supposed to pay them is presented as a bigot trying to stiff them. However, his prejudice isn't because they're lesbians. It's the idea that couple adventurers get 'distracted' and so potentially did shoddy work, despite them having done the job just fine. A tongue in cheek subversion that also helps make it clear the sort of world they're living in. People will still try to short change and scam you but it's not going to be by sexual preference.

However, due to the collaborative nature of it, the story went fallow for a while. I think this technically first happened late 2015 when it was first brainstormed and my brain kept buzzing about it on and off but, well, I had other things to worry about like my declining mental health. It only really came back to the forefront when in March of 2016, Walmart threatened to fire me and something in me just... broke. I ended up having to quit due to the void it introduced in me and made plans to move to Colorado to live with my parents. At the same time, as a way to potentially try and make up for the lack of a job, I asked my friend if it was okay if I took Diane and Kat and ran with them. They said yes and so their story began.

But who were they? (I actually have character profiles on a doc for them from that original drafting and there was a SEVERE temptation to just copy and paste for this)

Diane Maxwell:

A priestess turned sorceress who was almost killed by templars for having been found out to have incredibly powerful magic in her veins, she has a fairly serious, focused personality. She is mildly sarcastic, especially with Kat, and would be content in life if not for the fact that the teachings she was raised with push her to want to continue doing good. That and adventuring pays the bills. She wears a dress robe over normal leather armor and specializes in lightning and fire magics due to having an affinity to both and being shockingly bad at any form of healing magic, much to her own disappointment. Is awkward about public affection though it's purely a personal thing and has nothing to do with how deep her love for Kat runs.

Kat Wolfcry:

A self proclaimed knight who is the daughter of the chief to a barbarian clan, she is stubborn, enthusiastic and on the face of it what you would expect from a barbarian who is a bit on the shorter side, especially when compared to her tall girlfriend. Her fiery red hair and heritage hide who she really is. She cares about innocents more than any barbarian literally can for the job. She even almost failed the ritual to imbue herself with a wolf spirit because it required her to kill in cold blood a wolf she knew to become one with it. To give her the sort of magical rage a fantasy barbarian has. It was saving Diane from the templars and their lone journey to bring her back home from a failed pillaging raid that made her decide she needed to leave home and at least try to be a knight, even if she still fights like a barbarian. But uh... Just because she cares about innocents doesn't mean she's defanged. She just can't get mad 'for fun'. If you hurt people, expect her to be all too happy to show you why her clan was known for brutal slaughters of their prey, like a pack of wolves on a moose.

So there are your two bases. The classic dynamic of tank and sorcerer, though only the latter can only do field medicine so they need to be careful. Plenty of backstory potential and plenty of just general potential for good fun between the two, with their first book even mentioning old stories I had in mind for them because I was just so enthusiastic about the ideas I had for them.

So... Why only the one book?

Well, that kind of comes down to format? Amongst a lot of other things but something that has always made me nervous is that I conceptualized the series as being stand alone for the majority of the books. One might reference another book but you didn't need to have read it to get a complete story with whichever book you read. The only book that should have ever broken this would have been the final book in the series because it would have been a celebration of what had come first.

That's also why Bound Bands is the way it is. It was just meant to be a fun dungeon crawl that could be a part of a series, but didn't have to be. I literally have the layout listed on that old doc of 2 beginning chapters, four dungeon layers, three night chapters to serve as quieter breaks, then the boss and epilogue effectively. A simple but effective structure that was based on one main premise: A dungeon meant to stress and push whoever came in's bond with themselves and each other hard. I won't spoil why since you can go check it out yourself, at least if you're reading this when it comes out.

BUT this format is also kind of nerve wracking in that it means having to reintroduce a lot of elements of a character each time and avoiding repetition in that, finding new ways to introduce them and what not, is something my brain has hissed at me each time I've tried starting another book of theirs. I actually don't even know how much I have to worry about this since this style isn't actually something I ever engaged much with as a kid. I never read the old Sherlock mysteries as an example. I don't know how much they rely on you knowing who Sherlock is even if each story is standalone. I read series or single books as a kid, never something in this sort of field so it maybe is something I just need perspective on to help me out.

But just for fun, I'll share the immediate pitches for some of the books I'd considered:

Holy Town Mage Tournament: A small church town belonging to the same faith Diane used to be is holding of all things a tournament for black magic users. While normally something Diane wouldn't be a part of, two things push her to join. The first is the one favored to win, a mage who claims to be an archmage, which is no simple feat in this world. Diane should know: She qualifies as one after all due to having mastered the ability to duel cast. The other? A mute priestess who is the final opponent for the winning mage and her mother who are raising money for the town through this blasphemous act and who claim to have been friends with her father, Avatar Maxwell.

A Feral Circus: After a night of hard drinking that Diane skipped but that Kat went out to enjoy, Kat doesn't make it back to the room they were staying at. Meanwhile, the circus in town's beast master claims to have a new wolf as part of his menagerie who he shall reveal to all in one week's time. With it being the closest thing to a lead Diane has, can she infiltrate the circus and find Kat? And why is the beast master waiting so long to reveal his new prize?

(Side note: I always felt like I had an easier time to figure out stories for Diane to be the lead than Kat. *sigh*)

Test of Mettle: In the middle of a town lies a large stone rock with hundreds of nicks taken out of it by various warriors, knights and swordmasters who wanted to test their might against it. When Kat goes to do it though, she is stopped by an old samurai type who says that a barbarian has no place in testing themselves like this. When she tries anyways, she destroys her sword as if it were nothing. That's the last straw and Kat makes it clear they aren't leaving until she's not just hit the rock but shattered it entirely, with this easily being one of their earlier stories.

(Also yes, I watched the anime take on Thundercats. Why do you ask?)

And finally, of course:

Diane and Kat: On her first raid, Kat Wolfcry chooses a monastery on the edge of the lands dominated by the Kesral faith. It's an easy target but one with plenty of loot to make her father proud. She doesn't know that a squad of templars are there, having been brought in to judge Diane Maxwell, daughter of the old leader of the monastery, for her newfound black magic. They throw her in a well cell beneath the monastery as they finish getting the black powder that they'll be bringing back to the capital. Powder kegs waiting to go off and help start these two girls' destinies with a bang.

The one I've tried starting the most often is the holy town tournament one, with their true origin story of meeting and falling in love being the only other one I've actually tried to start. Feral Circus has always been LOW priority because it's the sort of story I'd want to do as like a fifth book since that one genuinely just removes Kat for the entirety of it while at least the holy town one is simply more focused on Diane. I've never forgotten them though. They always come to mind, asking for when their turn will be and I keep just not quite managing to return to them.

UNTIL NO- No. I don't have an announcement like that to make. I might try to sometime soon, and maybe publish some one offs I made for the two on Ao3, including when Diane first cast magic, but for the moment they are just the two lesbians I want to someday return to. As such, if you have questions about them and the like, please, let me know. I'd love to answer what I can and who knows? Maybe it'll help me get more motivated about them.

And since I did in fact decide to make their book free for a bit, a reminder that Kindle e-books do NOT require an e-reader. They are available to be read on literally anything with a browser. So if you're reading this, you can almost certainly pick it up and check out their first story: Diane and Kat: The Bound Bands.

#original writing #original fiction #sapphic fiction #wlw fiction #Diane and Kat

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sammyisfat · 2 years ago

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So my Dad has been battling cancer for almost a decade, and is in remission. But now his kidneys are only functioning at 22% and they have an infection that can’t be treated. So, we’re just waiting. He’s been steadily declining the last two weeks.

This is causing me to spiral. I’m feeling like I’m stranded in the ocean in an inflatable boat with duck tape covering the holes, I can see the shore but it’s so out of my reach and I don’t think I can stay alive to make it there.

I don’t regret my hysterectomy but it was my first surgery and was major. It caused me a lot of trauma mentally and physically. It’s been 5 years almost, and since it’s happened I’ve just been in a downward spiral.

I met a guy and got engaged after 6 weeks, and married within a year. I met him 3 months after my surgery. At the height of a heavy dissociation. And I went back to school without thinking it through clearly.

I was terrified to go back to my management job because my boss would constantly call me an idiot, treat me like I was trash, and would send me to work in various stores but wouldn’t pay me for my travel or pay me an active managers wage to make up for that.

So I went back to school, but then I started developing chronic pain that makes being active so painful. The pain is where my right incision from my hysterectomy is, and where my former cervix used to be. And no drs are listening to me. It’s compromised my mental health to the point I was so unreliable I was struggling to show up for work. Between the pain and my mental health.

And then in the fall of 2020, I was in a car accident. The crash was fairly minor but I hit my head off the windshield not hard enough to crack glass but enough to do damage. Where I hit my head is the area that controls your ability to mask and control your anxiety.

I lost mine. And my short term memory has been affected. Due to this, I had to end my lease and move in with my parents in a whole new province from where I had built a new life. I was suffering from insomnia due to the accident.

And I was prescribed sleep pills, I had never taken any before. And they would knock me out for 10 hours sometimes until I built up a tolerance. And I kept waking up in pain. But I found out my partner had been having sex with me in my sleep, because I wouldn’t wake up. And I never consented to it.

This had been the start of things, and then later that winter I found out I was losing my apartment and my jobs. My spiral has gotten worse since these events.

An anon account came forward on IG and accused my partner of cheating. But there hadn’t been any proof. No screenshots or any information regarding where I could find info. This had caused a riff between us.

When we moved to Ontario, his family basically disowned him. And so even though I want and need out. I feel responsible for him. He moved halfway across the country for me. I’ve tried telling him we’re not good for each other, his mental health is impacting mine and vice versa. And I can’t be a good partner right now.

We haven’t been intimate in 3 years. We tried on my bday but he changed his mind so we stopped. So we’re more like roommates at this point.

I’m feeling so trapped and alone. I just can’t handle it all anymore. I went to hospital in ‘22 for a month. But they refused to really help me, because I have borderline personality disorder. And they would just tell me to do DBT when I got out of the hospital.

But I was then and now at such a low baseline I am barely surviving. I am not eating. I’m not sleeping. My pain is at an all time high. I can’t keep track of days. I thought it was still the 15th for 8 days.

I’m just existing. And I don’t want to anymore. I had to flush all my sleeping pills because I didn’t trust myself not to take them all before bed. So I’m just sleeping maybe 2 hours at night. Because I can’t take sleep meds without feeling triggered and unsafe.

I’ve never said anything to anyone really about this. I tell bits and pieces but it a hard to admit the truth and be honest about what my last 5 years have been. And I am so tired.

#me #personal #tw mental health #tw mention of death #tw sad thoughts #tw sa mention #tw #tw cancer #bpd splitting #bpd tag

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princeblack · 1 year ago

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He’s not sure what he expects when asking her if she’d rather he be less careful with her, but maybe some part of him already longs for her to tell him it’s okay to want her and that maybe he can even have her. It’s a selfish desire and one that doesn’t make any sense for her— why would she want to fraternize with the person who employs her, especially when that person is engaged and unavailable in so many ways? So he shouldn’t be surprised when she says she hasn’t decided, but his heart sinks a little all the same.

At least she seems to appreciate his compliment, even if it’s less of a compliment and more of an observation. She tells him twice how kind he is and it warms his heart that she seems so happy she gets to see Alfie again. “Don’t worry; we’ll leave out plenty for him. One of the privileges of being royalty is collecting enough shiny belongings to share with a niffler.” It doesn’t bother him, letting the creature take some of his things. If anything it seems fascinating and kind of adorable. “Is that why he loves you so much? Because your face shines when you smile?” just saying it makes him smirk a little, sheepishly. He reaches out, pinching one of her cheeks teasingly. “Sorry.. I don’t even make sense anymore.” All he can think about is her beauty, from those big blue eyes to her perfect lips. Maybe if his fiance were even a fraction as beautiful, he could force himself to be interested. But unfortunately for her, Bexley is going to be working alongside him every day and no one will ever compare to that beauty.

Her voice is so warm and soothing, explaining how she wishes the best for Regulus and Sirius. He could listen to her all night and he has half the mind to ask her to read to him just so he can. “Sometimes I think I care more about fixing our relationship than he does,” he says, which is probably more vulnerable than he should be with someone he just met, but at least she’s giving him permission.

She declines his offer to visit her family and he’s surprised, but listens to her explanation quietly. “Well, they’re free to visit whenever they please and if you ever change your mind just let me know.” He hates the idea of keeping her locked up here, separated from her loved ones forever. He’s sure she’s going to be great at her job and he would miss having her around too, but he doesn’t want to keep her from her family.

He shakes his head when she starts to explain herself. “No, that’s not what I meant… I know you aren’t judging. I was merely lamenting that my behavior is out of place for my family.” He wishes it wouldn’t be considered odd, how much he was willing to grant his handmaiden. But then again, maybe he just wishes that so no one knows the truth about why he’s so soft for her already. How angry would his parents be? How angry would Daphne be, to know that his thoughts for Bexley were so soft?

She apologizes after his reaction to her claiming Daphne must be lucky, causing his chest to squeeze because of how sweet and small she sounds. “You didn’t upset me, beautiful.” He catches her face in his palm, fingers tracing under her chin as he guides her closer. Glancing down at her lips, he thinks about how soft they probably are, wishing he could kiss them. But she did say she hadn’t decided if he should be cautious with his affections yet, so he drops his hand, leaning back.

She tries to reassure him that he can’t make himself love Daphne and that she doesn’t mind being specially treated this way. “So you don’t mind if I start to fall in love with you, then?” he asks bluntly, green eyes roaming her figure. It’s difficult to focus when her hand is scooping water onto his bare chest and he’s so turned on, but he tries to listen to her words instead of imagining how good it would feel to kiss her pink lips.

Her fingers feel nice brushing against his skin every time she scoops water onto his body, making his lashes flutter. “I would like to introduce you… Sera likes pretty girls, so I imagine he’ll like you even more, since you’re good with animals on top of that.” The dragon hates James Potter, but Regulus is sure he would like Bexley.

She compliments him and it makes his heart race a little, giving her the smallest smile. He knows Sirius is jealous, at least to an extent, of the favor their parents have placed upon Regulus. But it’s difficult to imagine the outgoing and handsome Sirius being jealous of Regulus because he’s lovely. Regardless, he likes hearing her say it. “If you were Sirius, what about me would make you jealous?” he asks, softly prodding her to keep going.

she couldn't believe she said that, knowing what it implies she doesn't know what's come over her as she bites down on her lower lip, regulus seems to catch onto her own teasing and she bites down on her lower lip. "I haven't decided yet..." she smiles softly, biting down on her lower lip as eyes travel along his bare frame, skin glowing from the glistening water droplets that drip down his frame.

he tells her it's hard to believe and she can't help but giggle softly. it's not that she's not gotten compliments before or offers for proposals but it wasn't like the way the prince did, nobody ever made her heart flutter this way before or made her feel like she was actually beautiful. she's never been so charmed before and it's not only because of the sweet words he speaks to her. could she truly be falling for him so soon? it seems kind of silly knowing her feelings could never be more, even if he wasn't to be married he was still a prince and she was nothing but a servant, he could never love someone like her even if he was the sweetest man she'd ever known. her cheeks flush into a glowing blush shaking her head a bit. "you're too kind your highness."

her lips pull into a smile at his words, excitement flowing through her at the idea of alfie actually coming to the castle to be with her. she never thought she'd see her middle again, at very least it would be very rare occasions so the idea that regulus would arrange for him to be part of the palace meant the world to her. "that is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you..." she says gently, smiling up at him. "serafirm is very lucky to have someone as wonderful as you are and I hope alfie won't be too much of a handful when he comes. as long as he's stimulated he won't normally cause destruction." she says gently. "you could also leave out tea spoons if you're worried he might steal something valuable, nifflers aren't picky as long as it's something that shines or sparkles." alfie had a collection of objects most wizards would find useless but to him it was treasure because of the way the sun hits them in the shining light.

lord sirius sounded like a handful but she wouldn't dare say it outloud, she feels for regulus having to deal with so much and not even having his own brother to depend on. bee isnt sure what she would do without cedric on her side through everything, if her older brother hated her or the other way around the world would feel so lonely. "I hope you and lord sirius can find peace one day your highness. it's important to have your sibling especially when things get tough with your parents, they're always the ones you want on your side through thick and thin." she smiles warmly. "and you don't have to apologize, I might be your handmaiden but I am a good listener too. if you don't have your brother then I don't mind taking the place of someone you can vent to....only if you want."

his offer takes her by surprise, allowing her to visit her family wasn't something she would ever ask for on her own but the fact he does it without her even having to ask makes her heart flutter a bit. "sir i...that is a very noble thing to do but I couldn't possibly ask that if you. I took this job knowing the things I'd have to leave behind and I'm okay with that, I'd be happy with a visit from my family here and there but I do not wish to leave you behind." she smiles softly. "I have a duty to you and I'm not going to take advantage of your kindness just because I get a bit homesick, besides I'm sure they much rather visit this beautiful palace. my brother wants to be a knight one day."

blue eyes flicker towards his soft lips as he speaks, realizing how much she loves the sound of his voic, so smooth and low. even just in the way he talks he sounds so intelligent and it makes her heart race a little bit. "no your highness, I don't mean to sound like I was judging you...I don't think you're heartless. I just...I suppose I usually feel guilty for most things I probably shouldn't." it's what comes with having such a judgmental and demanding father like her own. "you are the kindest person I've ever met and I would never judge someone on their status."

regulus pulls back from her, his gaze as well and it makes her a bit confused, did she say something wrong? she feels a bit guilty but she really didn't mean any harm. blue eyes searching to find his own before he speaks again but his words make sense, people with his status didn't often marry for love,not from what she understood at least. it was often out of political status or to gain something and that's one thing she always feared was being forced into a marriage that wasn't because she loved the person and rather because she had no other choice, to help her family. "I'm sorry your highness, I didn't mean to upset you..." but she's not going to lie she does feel a bit flattered knowing she seems to be a special case. "but you can't force yourself to love someone you do not want to be with...that's beyond your control and not to speak out of place but I don't mind being a special case for your treatment." she smirks, using the sponge to soak his back hoping it'll help him relax.

she notices the way his eyes find her breasts and she realizes she's been showing to him this entire time. it makes her blush a little, hoping it's a good thing he's looking down at her. she shouldn't think like that or want the prince to look at her in such a way but she can't help herself, she wants to be wanted by him as she bites down on her lower lip, dipping her hand in the bath water to gather more water dripping it down against his skin. she listens to him talk about his dragon, the one he mentioned earlier and she can't help but smile fondly, finding it endearing and even kind of sexy that he cares so much. "I would love to meet him sometime if you wouldn't mind..." she smiles. "I've never seen an actual dragon before, not up close at least." she allows him to lean back towards the eyes so she can move over to his chest, gathering more water trying not to focused too long on the fact she can see his dick through the water as she moves lower. "I feel sorry for your brother, he seems to have a hard life. with a brother as amazing as you to compare to, I'd be quite jealous too." she teases, picking up his arm with one hand so she can use the other to scrub. "you're so lovely."

#ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( prose ) .#ⅰ. ⸻ / 𝑹.𝑨.𝑩. ( 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. bexley ) .

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acefaun · 2 years ago

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Hey there! 🦊 I first wanted to say that I really enjoy your work, writing and art, and whenever I get an alert you posted something, it really makes my day. 🖤

I was hoping if you had time and if it was something interesting enough to write, if I could make a request for a Dui comfort story...? Something along the lines of a reader who's dealing with a lot of health issues (nothing super scary or terminal) but feels that her declining health will make Dui stop loving her?

If not, it's totally okay! Thank you for always writing awesome work! 🖤♊

Dui~ Through Sickness and in Health

Synopsis: There are some goldfish who are effortlessly healthy, while there are others like MC who are just born unhealthy. With all Dui has been through, she's starting to wonder if he'll stay with someone as ill as her.

✨Masterlist✨

Female goldfish!

A/N: Thank you thank you thank you! I'm so glad my writing can make your day! I wish I had more fics to post more often!🥺 I love being able to write relatable comfort fics. But I'll try to be as unspecific about the illness as possible. But I know most illnesses lower your immune system(especially some medicines made to help) so that's what I'm running on. I also placed this one during the peak of Covid, because what’s more dramatic than having a low immune system during a time of world-wide disease?

–Word Count: 3,967–

The Earth was riddled with chaos and fear. Between the riots that were happening in the streets and the people who refused to wear masks, I wished staying home was an option—there was a threat of a lockdown, but even if it happened, it couldn’t last forever. The government couldn’t imprison people in their own homes for that long.

So, rather than staying in my lonesome house, I paid Dui a visit. All this talk of isolation was making me feel greedy for socializing and affection.

Compared to the nearly barren streets, the run-down mansion was a sight for sore eyes. Knocking on the front door, I adjusted my mask before entering. It didn't take long at all for Dui to make his way down the stairs.

The bright smile on his face told me he was prepared to greet me happily before he noticed the mask on my face and faltered. Was it a new fashion style I was going for? He recalled seeing guys with masks on the anime I introduced him to. Maybe this was related. Taking it as a completely normal form of dress, he resumed smiling. “You showed up before I could go get you.”

“I was feeling a little suffocated by myself,” I admitted.

“How about I hold your hand and take you on a date so you don't feel so lonely?” My heart stuttered, and I found myself speechless as he gracefully took my hand in his. “Why don't we go grab some cherries? Then we can go somewhere and eat them together.” His eyes glittered with excitement as his newfound plan. Why was he so cute?

Suddenly the mask was making my face feel very warm. But an intrusive thought made me nearly pull away before I asked, “Can gods get sick? The mansion’s really clean, right?”

He drew back, tilting his head as he contemplated it. “Our godly powers protect us from human illness. Though there are certain illnesses gods can catch. They're pretty rare cases though. Not that they travel around like human illnesses. Why, what's up?” His eyes wandered back to me. There wasn't any apparent reason I could've been asking about god sicknesses. Unless I would be worried about him because of what happened to Ichthys’ parents! “(Name)!” He abruptly called my name, making sure I was looking into his eyes. “I promise I won't get sick and leave you, okay? An illness that can kill a god must be a pretty scary concept, but I promise it's super hard to catch.”

As nice as that was to hear, that wasn't the point of my question. I was just glad to know that the mansion was an environment free of bugs for me to catch. At least I knew I wouldn't have to wear a mask visiting them in the future.

My grip tightened around Dui’s hand, desperate to keep him with me. “Thanks. I'm glad to hear it.” I just hoped he could say the same… if he ever found out about me.

***

Our date was considerably less normal than usual. There weren't many humans around the streets and there was an unusual number of people wearing masks—though most of them were older from what Dui could tell.

Dui just assumed it was an anime thing, but it didn't seem to add up. He didn't understand why some humans complained about wearing masks while others complained when humans didn't wear masks. I, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine with wearing a mask.

The only time Dui really stopped to take in the situation was when someone passed Dui a snide remark about being on top of me without a mask on. I wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, only holding him closer, but he was already looking to me for answers.

“What's going on with everyone today? What's the big deal about masks or no masks?”

I paused with him, tilting my head. “You guys don't know what's happening on Earth?”

“Something happened?”

“Hold on,” I shouted, pulling away to assess whether or not he was being serious. “You're telling me that none of you know about the big bad disease that's going around killing people even though you deal with humans every day?!” I faltered at calling us humans, drawing strange looks to us, but no one really seemed bothered as they kept walking. But Dui only looked more lost. “There's an airborne disease called the corona virus. It's really easy to catch and unhealthy humans who catch it can't deal with it very well and can die.”

“Coronavirus…” He repeated the name slowly, scratching his jawline. The name sounded familiar enough, but he didn't know it was that bad. “I think Scorpio mentioned it once. Actually, I think we had a whole meeting about it in the Heavens. Then… We ended up letting it fester. Then it grew… and now it's a world-wide catastrophe. But don't worry! The Department of Wishes is fixing it. Haven't you heard that they're working on a cure?”

“You let this happen?”

“No! Don't- It sounds bad, but-” Even with the mask he could tell I was giving him quite the pout. While he usually thought it was the most adorable thing he had ever seen, he was getting quite nervous. “It's fine! You're not supposed to get wrapped up in our work. Zyglavis told me not to involve you. It'd look bad if we wrapped a human up in our work. Please, trust me.”

I huffed in amusement, reaching up to pat his head. “I'm not blaming you. You don't have to get so worked up.” Still, he seemed no more relaxed after having to defend the Department of Punishments from my judgement. “Dui,” I whined, “Why are you pouting? I was just kidding. Please, don't ignore me.”

He huffed, pulling me close to bury his face in my hair. His nose was still stuffed in my hair as he muttered, “I'm not talking about work with you anymore.” After a quiet moment of standing there and absorbing my warmth, he hesitantly asked, “Gods don't get sick but… should I wear a mask too so we match?”

I tilted my head. “You want to wear matching masks?”

Dui reached into his pocket, pulling out a mask that looked just like mine. Only after getting my help to wear the mask did he beam at me. “Now I look even more human. But…” His sudden lack of enthusiasm almost made me tell him to take it off. But he only had one problem on his mind as he asked, “I guess we look like those cool guys from your anime show, but how am I supposed to kiss you?”

My heart melted at his purely honest question. If that was the only problem he had with wearing a mask then these humans were overreacting. But his depression at not being able to kiss me was something amusing. Thoughtfully, I suggested, “I have an idea.” If he weren't a god, I might rethink getting so close to another person. But Dui needed some cheering up.

Grabbing the front of his shirt, I tugged him closer, booping my nose against his through the mask. His eyes were comically wide and I could tell he was blushing. “This works for now, but…” He paused, taking my hand in his again. “I'll give you a real kiss when we get home. Okay?”

Dui took the situation on Earth well enough. I only joked around with him about it because I didn't want to make him suspicious or worried. If he knew I was one of those easy-to-die humans he'd probably panic. I knew the gods already saw me as nothing but a weak human. How much more pathetic and fragile could I get in their eyes?

Besides, the thought kept coming back to me that Dui already had to go through losing his best friend. I was convinced he wouldn't want to stay with me if he knew how easily he could lose me thanks to my declining health. I always did my best to hide any symptoms, but that was also a hard game to play.

With covid, everything was much more difficult to hide. I would accept Dui’s offers to go on dates in the Heavens, but the minute he suggested an Earth date I had to refuse. I knew I was pretty obviously avoiding other humans, but that was just to keep Dui free from worrying or overthinking.

Despite all my efforts, my stress only ate at my health over time. Though it was only a self-inflicted fever and lack of appetite, I stayed isolated in my home as if I had covid. Stress was another unfortunately unavoidable thing that could cause symptoms of my illness to flare up. If I stayed in bed for a while and rested, I was bound to bounce back in no time.

***

Dui was worried—he tried to act like he wasn't but it was obvious to everyone else. Dui only ever drowned himself in work when he was trying to avoid something. The subject of his avoidance just so happened to be me. He hadn't heard from me in days, not even through the Wishes gods. There had to be a reason. Clearly I didn't want to be bothered by Dui that I had been silent.

Or… There was another option that Dui didn't want to consider. Unfortunately, it was a real possibility. If I had covid, then he needed to fix it immediately before I could die!

With his mind made up, he abandoned his pile of finished work and rushed down to Earth to get to my apartment. He knew if I didn't have covid that he might just be bothering me, but he'd deal with that when it came.

Knocking gently at the door, his anxiety rose as I failed to answer right away. Still, he had to keep cool so Shadow Dui wouldn't come out and cause a disturbance.

Nervously letting himself in the freezing apartment, his eyes flitted around for me. Not finding me in the kitchen or living room, he walked over to my room where he found me dozed off in bed, curled warmly in the blankets. Well, he guessed so considering how freezing it was.

He pursed his lips before lowering the temperature for me. Maybe that way I wouldn't have to look like a turtle hiding away in a fluffy shell.

But hearing the shuffling and the turning of the thermostat, I shot up in a panic. I tried not to make too much noise, but Dui already turned around with wide eyes. “Dui! You're… Why are you here?”

“I was worried,” he mumbled, standing awkwardly by the doorframe. “You haven't said anything in a few days so I came to see if you had something going on. Are you feeling okay? You look like you haven't gotten out of bed all day.”

“Nonsense! I'm fine,” I brushed him off, getting out of bed quicker than he could blink. I hated how I had to act fine when my eyes just wanted to close and never open again. “I just stayed up late watching a movie. My wonky sleep schedule is messing with my head. Guess you wouldn't understand much since you don't experience sleep…”

“Really?” He brushed his fingers through his hair as he really observed me. “I hope I wasn't bothering you then. I guess I should just-”

“Dui,” I frantically called, making him pause in his quiet ramblings. “Why don't you… I mean, why don't we have a date? I guess I've been neglecting you because of all this disease going around. But we could have a date here at home. We could watch that movie I was talking about.”

This time it was my turn to ramble, but he didn't seem to mind as he immediately accepted my offer. “I'd love to have a stay-at-home date. You can set up the movie while I get a few snacks. You must be hungry.”

Before I could argue against him getting food for us, he was heading off to my kitchen. Sighing tiredly, I made my way to the living room. As much as I wanted to spend time with Dui, my stamina surely wouldn't last all day. Just moving around the living room was making my head spin.

Luckily, the living room was a fairly small space, and it took little effort to set up a movie from the comfort of my sofa where I sat tiredly waiting for my boyfriend to return.

I was almost dozing off when I jolted awake by the feeling of a body sinking on the cushion next to me. “I got- The movies ready.” My eyes shot to the bowl of popcorn that he made for the two of us. “Oh. That's a lot.”

“I figured I'd make a lot since we're sharing. And I know you like to eat while watching movies.” His smile was so kind, and he was always so considerate of my likes and dislikes. It was unfortunate that I probably couldn't stomach much. “Hey,” he said, noticing my lack of a reaction, “Are you sure you're feeling okay?” I wasn't outright saying anything, but Dui had a gut feeling that I was hiding something.

Sensing the tension between us, I quickly excused my behavior. “Remember, I stayed up all night watching shows. I ate a good bit yesterday so I'm not too hungry. I was just a little worried that you made too much, but don't worry. Whatever we don't eat, we can save for later.”

Was that a lie too, Dui wondered. He saw nothing out of place in my kitchen and my trash was nearly empty. He couldn't bring himself to question me though with how unusually pale I looked.

Even through the movie, he noticed how I only picked at the snacks he offered. Dui was far too distracted with me to even pay attention to what was going on in the little screen—which made sense considering I was the more important thing to focus on. I just seemed so lethargic and out of it today, but finding that I had fallen asleep on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed. Gently touching my forehead, he pulled away with furrowed eyebrows. I was much warmer than usual and the only conclusion he could jump to was that I had covid and was trying to hide it from him.

First things first, he had to calm down and think this through. Covid wasn't necessarily a death sentence. As long as he took care of me then it would be fine.

…

No.

He had to see Huedhaut as soon as possible to save my life! Too many humans were dying from this disease. He needed the cure.

Leaving me comfortably tucked in my bed, he was off to the Heavens in no time. This was an emergency. At this point it didn't matter who Dui needed to go through to talk to the smartest god in the Heavens. “Huedhaut!”

His voice rang down the hall of the Department of Wishes, drawing both Leon and Huedhaut to a halt. Dui was clearly the last god they expected to go screaming through the halls of their department—more specifically on the hunt for Huedhaut. But Dui looked terrified, and this shook them.

“Dui,” Huedhaut replied, already trying to assess what could have caused such a commotion. “What happened?”

“It's (Name),” Dui rushed the words out, thankfully not losing Huedhaut along the way. “I need your help. She’s sick and I don't know what to do. The cure—the one for the coronavirus that's spreading in humans—I need it. I have to save (Name).”

“Dui, wait-”

“If I don't get it now, (Name)’s going to die!” That single thought drew Shadow Dui out in no time, flying towards the Wishes god. Fortunately, Leon wasn't letting that unstable Shadow freak any closer. “Let me go! Give me the cure!”

“Stop,” Huedhaut sharply ordered. “I'm not giving you anything until you can calm down and talk to me.”

“I'm sorry,” Dui said, trying to pull himself together. He didn't need Shadow to be acting out when his top priority was taking care of me, not getting into trouble with the other gods. “I'm sorry.” He helplessly looked at Huedhaut as Leon stopped restraining him. “(Name)’s sick. She has a fever and she won’t eat much and she sleeps all the time. She has covid. You can help her, right?”

Dui felt slightly discouraged at hearing Huedhaut sigh but Huedhaut was quick to excuse himself from Leon’s company to help Dui with this task. Walking down the hall, Huedhaut finally revealed, “(Name) doesn't have covid, let that be a comfort. I've taken extra measures to ensure that she’s safe, and she’s taking precautions as well.”

“Then what's wrong with her?” Dui begged for answers. “She’s still sick. She was hiding it from me too. I don't know how to fix a sick goldfish. What do I do? What does she have?”

“First, what you can do is slow down,” Huedhaut advised the anxious god. He was worried when he first found out about my health issues as well; it was something he discovered when I got rid of his sin. Seeing how well I lived with such an ailment, he never brought it up with anyone. But apparently it was more of an issue than he suspected. “(Name) has an illness that's part of her and occasionally she’ll fall ill as she is now. There's no such cure that can fix it. The only thing you can do is to be there to help lessen her symptoms.”

Dui slowed down, his eyebrows furrowing together even more. He was much calmer to know I wouldn’t die, but he was distressed to find out that this was my normal health. That wasn't good at all. I never told him anything. Was it a secret? Did I keep it quiet because I wanted to deal with it alone?

Still, why would I lie to him about it? How many times have I fallen ill and didn't let him take care of me? It's his role as a boyfriend to be there for me and he was failing miserably to notice the most important things about me. Pursing his lips together, he asked, “How do I help her? Tell me everything!”

***

It felt nice to just be able to lie down and sleep. It was especially nice since I wasn't feeling the heat of a fever. In fact, my head was feeling cool and relieved as if stuffed in a cold rain cloud.

As comfortable as I was, my brain finally woke up enough to remind me that Dui was supposed to be around. I couldn't remember him leaving, making me wonder where he went. Though, the longer I laid there, I felt something cold resting on my forehead. My eyes shot open in a panic, but I was still too lethargic to move around quickly.

Luckily, the only thing I found hovering above me was Dui’s worried face, his eyes wide as he stared at me. “Why didn’t you tell me you had an illness?” My heart jumped anxiously at the sudden question, but he didn’t stop there. “I could’ve helped you. I could’ve made you something easier to eat. We could’ve had more at-home-dates. Why’d you keep it from me…? Didn’t you think I’d care?”

I was sick, sure, but I didn’t know how he found out that this was a common thing that I lived with. But now that he knew, it was time for a proper explanation. Lying wouldn’t help anything at this point. “I didn’t mean to- well…” I paused. “I did intentionally hide it. I just didn’t want to hurt you or scare you away. I figured if you didn’t know about it then you wouldn’t leave me for someone better—someone who didn’t have to suffer often with a chronic illness…”

Dui quieted down, slouching in his seat beside my bed. “You thought I’d leave you because you were sick?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” I looked away from him, not wanting to see when he would finally decide to break up with me. “You’ve been through so much and you already lost your best friend. I can’t sit here and expect you to be okay with waiting for my death too when there are goddesses who won’t die like me. So I thought if we didn’t talk about it then I could pretend like everything’s going to be okay!”

“Everything will be okay,” he emphasized, his hands wrapping around mine. I turned my head back to him, finding him watching me with sincerity shining in his chocolate eyes. “I don’t want a goddess—I never did. I want you! I want you to talk to me. I want to take care of you and love you. Can’t you just rely on me when you’re not feeling good? You’ve been pretending like you’re okay and you’re fighting your body. I can do things for you.”

Seeing the tears that gathered in the corners of my eyes, he was quick to jump on the side of the bed, pulling me into his arms. Burying my face in his shoulder, I whispered, “Don’t think of me as weak.”

“You’re not,” he reassured, his fingers caressing my back as if I were too fragile for him to squeeze. “You’re a strong goldfish.You’ve been fighting this all on your own all this time. You even put up with us gods. You’re definitely the strongest goldfish I know. But now I’m here to help you. We’ll be stronger together, right? So don’t worry.” Pulling away with that dorky smile of his, he felt your head for a fever once more before rising from the bed. Ushering you to sit back against the pillows he propped up, he stepped away from the bed. “You stay in bed. I’ll get you something light to eat that’ll be easy on your stomach. I’ll be right back.”

I watched him leave for the kitchen with a newfound determination. He didn’t give me a single second to argue for him to stay since he knew I had eaten little in the past few days. He still never explained how he found out about my chronic illness, but in the end, I guess it didn’t matter. My sweet Dui was determined to stay by my side and help me through it. My cheeks heated up again, but I could tell it wasn’t from the fever this time.

#star crossed myth #star crossed myth fanfic #scm leon #scm karno #scm teorus #scm huedhaut #scm tauxolouve #scm aigonorus #scm zyglavis #scm scorpio #scm krioff #scm dui #scm ichthys #scm partheno #fanfic #department of wishes #department of punishments #star crossed myth imagines #my asks

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years ago

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Here to Misbehave (Finale | S.R.)

Summary: It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

A/N: Here it is, everyone: the end of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this far. I greatly appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy it! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, light D/s, mostly fluff! Word Count: 7.5k

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Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But she wasn’t a season, and when it came to my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Y/n)’s face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The truce was received poorly, her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration to continue, “I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are... wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway), clutching tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating the way my voice jumped a little bit. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway. The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough for me to let the full force of my affection show before she noticed.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she had hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it. Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate further into my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through a very amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression. “I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seatbelt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away. I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. My mind was brought back to the first time she ever let me know she was jealous, bickering over blondes and preferences while she sat in the very same place. And, just as before, she was still wearing the same raggedy old sweatshirt of mine.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t be better with her there. In a way, I think we were trying to prolong the high of ‘hooky,’ finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her? And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No! (Y/n)!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me. “This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season.”

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns despite not being able to indulge in anything herself. Although she did half-heartedly attempt to trick me into buying her drinks in several different establishments, I think she was honestly proud that I avoided the drinks altogether. It was a nice reminder that sobriety could be something enjoyed between the two of us, regardless of the environment. However, we didn’t let that stop us from jumping into a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear. The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

(Y/n) had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her 31-year-old FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned. And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. It took her a while to figure out why the route felt so familiar, but I wasn’t ready to ruin the surprise. I wanted to watch the realization dawn on her. She didn’t disappoint.

“The Mayflower?” she asked with a bit of a bashful laugh before looking up at me through narrowed eyes, “Feeling nostalgic, Dr. Reid?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Thought it was more romantic than the club,” I offered, trying to shrug off the nervous butterflies that burst through my stomach. “Not by much, mind you.”

Although I got the feeling that she didn’t know, or perhaps just didn’t remember, that wonderful night from almost a year ago was one of the most important days of my life. I knew it then, too. From the second I set my eyes on her from my pitiful place against the bar, I knew that she would ruin me.

“Nothing screams high end romance like an alley and a little light law breaking,” she sighed. I almost missed it, too preoccupied with the way her arm tugged me tighter so she could rest her head against my shoulder.

“I can take you home if you’d rather.”

“Hmmm. Depends,” she hummed. Then, turning her head up to me with that playful look that always turned me to putty in her hands, she purred, “How much longer do you think you can wait before you just have to have me?”

I sucked in a sharp, sarcastic breath, eyeing her just long enough for her to start to fume, I let out all the air with a defeated sigh, “I guess we’re staying.”

That serene sort of teasing continued past the reception desk and all the way up the elevator. If there were other people there, we didn’t bother noticing. We were too busy watching one another to even look away long enough to find our room. Doubling back through the dizzying hallways until we found the elusive number, we finally settled into the only vaguely familiar layout of beige and tan.

She was much quicker at it than I was. Before I’d even finished washing my hands and checking exposed skin for bugs that I was convinced had hitched a ride from the leaf pile, she was already stretched out on the bed in nothing but a tiny piece of lacy cotton and her favorite sweatshirt. The sight made me stop, lost for breath and logic of how I was lucky enough to be there with her again.

“See something you like, Dr. Reid?” she teased through giggles, no doubt recalling the same memory as me.

My answer didn’t need to be said, but I said it, anyway. She deserved to hear it.

“Yes.”

With arms outstretched, she sleepily begged, “Come here.”

But I couldn’t.

“Not yet… I just… I want to look at you like this a little bit longer.”

How could I move on from this moment, when it was the best I’d ever felt? So overwhelmingly safe and at home despite being in a strange, sterile room. I had no desire to move any inch of me if it meant that this image would persist for the rest of my days.

“You getting all romantic on me?”

“Always,” I chuckled. Her usual disgust for my sappy behavior didn’t show itself, overpowered by the gentle curve of her lips and hands that were becoming more and more insistent to be held. Eventually, I had to move, knowing that it was the only way to hold her.

My body reacted the way it always did when it found her. All of the tension dropped from tired shoulders, desperate to touch her more. To feel the imprint of her body pressed against mine, a mess of heat and need and love.

She was the one to kiss me first, and for a moment I let her do it without reciprocation. I wanted to feel how her touch became softer and shier as she realized what I was doing. That I was spending all of my energy memorizing the way her lips parted as she tried to hold back a giggle against my almost-still lips.

“What’s happening in that big genius brain of yours?” she murmured with eyes half open but still containing universes.

“I’m just thinking of all the things you’ve done to make me fall in love with you.”

I thanked all of the gods in every pantheon that made her too tired to tease. Instead, she just laughed, playing her part in bringing us back to that night we met.

“Like quote Picard?”

“We still haven’t watched Star Trek together,” I whined.

The sound must have stirred something new in her, because she rolled us over to take her seat on my lap. She hung over me, looking down at me, hopeless and breathless at the feel of her thighs under my hands. My heart started to race, but I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t until she spoke the words that were already running through my mind, “We’ve got time. Picard can wait.”

Everything about it was effortless. Our bodies had fallen together and mouths found each other exactly like every romance novel has ever tried to tackle the metaphor of gravity.

But if we were an orbit, it was not a binary like the traditional notion of two equal souls. Despite the nickname I’d chosen for her, nothing about her soul was small. And even though she burned bright, she wasn’t anything like the fiery combustion of a star.

She was a home. A thing so full of vitality and life that I would love to watch for whatever time I had left. I was just a moon, loyally following her and trying my best to shield her from whatever might try to harm her. To protect her when she needed rest and to lead the tides to kiss her when she wished. I would be her shadow, shining a light onto her even in the darkest time. All that I asked for in return was a spot beside her.

‘One day,’ she had said before, ‘if you will have me.’

But it was never a question. Not for me. And if she really needed me to answer it for her, I was happy to give her that. I hadn’t been waiting for even a year, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he can,” I repeated, quiet and with such a heavy waver that I’m surprised she could understand the shifting inflections. Even if she didn’t, she knew that something had changed in those few seconds of silence.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How to explain what I was feeling. But I grabbed hold of one hand, clinging desperately to her and guiding her to the heart that felt dangerously light. The rapid pace of its beating still not enough to alert her of the true cacophony of my thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

The answer was yes. Because no matter how loud and chaotic the sounds inside my head were, they all lead me to the same conclusion.

“Picard can wait, and we have a lot of time,” I tried to explain through a dry throat that was only growing tighter with the unwieldy weight of the feeling.

“Yes…” she mumbled back, just as trepidatious and nervous as I was.

Just like I was. Because we were. We were connected by some force, whatever you want to call it. Whether it was a chemical or psychological or heavenly connection, I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how I felt. To know that there was nothing that would ever tear me away from her.

“But I don’t… I don’t think I want to wait.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she answered with a knowing stare, “… What?”

From my position underneath her, I was able to reach over just enough to grab my jacket. Of course, it helped that she moved with me, clearly curious and terrified of the possibilities. But a good kind of terror… I hoped.

My confidence grew as her legs gripped tighter around my hips and her hands shot up to cover her chest with balled fists pressed against one another. I heard the friction of her skin as her body started to shake in a different way, with an adrenaline that I hadn’t seen from her in even the most dangerous situations.

But when I pulled a small velvet box from the internal pocket, everything stopped. She became completely still. Her eyes were wide and frozen on the object in my hands, only to look away when she heard my voice.

“(Y/n).”

“Where did you get that?” she asked like she hadn’t just seen me pull it from my jacket. The same jacket that I wore every time that I was with her. The wool fabric that she’d swaddled herself in on a number of occasions, none the wiser of how much heavier it was for me when I wore it.

“I know this is really random, a-and to be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, either,” I said through the most awkward laughs I’d ever produced (which was saying something), “I mean, I knew I wanted to marry you, I’ve known that for quite some time, hence the ring.”

I paused, but got nothing in response. Nothing except her lips quivering from their parted position, and her nose twitching as she tried to settle on just one expression. But it didn’t matter how she contorted her face; they were all exactly as they should be. Because they were all her.

“But today, with you… I-I’ve never been that happy in my life. Jumping in leaves and fighting over fall flavors and I—“

Her eyes stopped bouncing, settling with my gaze and robbing my lungs of all air. She made up her mind, deciding to leave everything exactly as it was. The honest truth of the overwhelming storm of every emotion that had been experienced in the little time we had shared together.

The knowing that everything had happened exactly as it should have to bring us here.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, careful to make every word as genuine as they were, “And I know that we have all the time in the world left with one another… but I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

“Ask me,” she answered immediately and abruptly.  

“Okay,” I laughed, endlessly entertained by how she could sound so aggressive even when we were both at our most vulnerable, caught in the nexus of our love.

“Um… Will you… marry me?”

There was no hesitation. No worry, no fear, and no doubt.

“Yes, you stupid old man!” she outright screamed, throwing arms around me even when it meant we both slammed against pillows and the headboard. She didn’t stop squealing even when she kissed me, struggling to find more of me to hold onto.

After she decided that tugging on my hair was the best way to express her affection, I managed to break away just long enough to shout, “Wait! I have to put the ring on you!”

“Then put it on!” she yelled, thrusting her hand in front of my face and practically slapping me in the process. But none of the pain mattered. Nothing was even recognizable outside of the feeling of her sweaty, shaking palm resting against my fingers.

I noticed for the first time that I was also trembling. I took the time to focus, slipping the ring over her finger. But once it started to safely slide into place, my eyes returned to watch what I knew to be happy tears fall over her cheeks. I wiped them away, but they were replaced with the wetness from my face when she brought us together again with a long, gentle kiss.

A calmness came over the room like the feeling following a storm. A clean slate with soil enriched for growth. A hope for a future forever changed.

“What do we do now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and holding tight to my hands.

The answer seemed clear enough.

“Whatever we want.”

—————————————————

Is this really happening?

I stared at the diamond shining back at me with a clarity that had to be a metaphor for my heart. In the vague reflection of yellow light and us, I felt a warmth that doesn’t normally accompany metal. My finger’s new companion felt so comfortable in its new resting place. A constant reminder of the man I called home.

Then I turned back to him, unsure how I was supposed to move on from this moment. I never wanted to leave, but I also needed to move. I compromised and settled with my face against his chest, listening to the heartbeat he’d just dedicated to me. In that peaceful quiet, I heard him speak so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

But I did.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said with fingers dancing through the ends of my hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And for once, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. In fact, it felt like freedom. I was finally free to be who I was without worry that I would be alone. Without worrying that I would be too much or too little to please him.

I was enough.

Enough.

“I love you,” I said, tasting salt from tears I hadn’t even noticed were falling.

Curiously, and in a rare role switch, Spencer was the one who took a blatantly affectionate display and turned it into something else. Pulling me away from his chest, he dragged me up until he could drag his lips over my jaw.

“Don’t cry, little girl,” he cooed with what I could only imagine was a wicked grin, “I haven’t given you a reason to yet.”

Something about that gruff rumble in his throat caused my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Every inch of me burned with flames that could only be put out by his touch. I chased after his lips with my own, but he was insistent on trailing down my throat. He knew I would be powerless to him. I wouldn’t be able to argue when my hands were knotted in his hair and my hips were already rocking helplessly against his erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” I seethed. My blood was boiling from the heat I felt within, and before he could even answer I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh? You don’t want me to make love to you?” Spencer laughed. As if that had ever been our style.

“No, I want you to take what’s yours.”

He responded to the demand by pushing me from my seat, forcing me onto my back on the other end of the bed. I wasn’t going to complain, either. The new position allowed me access to his belt, which I unbuckled before he even had time to laugh.

“Are you really challenging me right now, little girl?”

But despite the taunt, he did nothing to stop me. His hands were also busy removing my clothes. And just like before, our nakedness was reciprocated. With each lost layer, I should have felt lighter, but I didn’t. I felt so powerful, so aware of how our bare bodies twined together.

“Here, of all places? Do you remember what I did to you that night?”

How could I ever forget?

“I’m not the same girl you had in your bed then,” I purred. We both knew it was true, although not in the way I was implying.

Because Spencer had changed me. Irrevocably. He taught me so much — not just about physics, literature, or criminology, either. He taught me about kindness, softness, and vulnerability. He taught me how to trust that someone could hold me without the intention of letting me go. More than anything, he taught me that I didn’t have to learn these things alone. Even the smartest man I’d ever met needed help with them sometimes.

Then again, something told me that Spencer wasn’t in a very humble mood. Perhaps it was the fact he’d pinned me down again, with his hands clumsily gripping hard enough to leave crescent moons in my forearms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he growled with a small, chaste kiss, “You’re still just a fucking brat.”

I wasn’t feeling bratty then, though. Especially not as I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, just hard enough to feel the resistance of my body. He waited there, no doubt taking pleasure in the way my whole body squirmed underneath him. My hips bucked, but he managed to keep a cruelly steady distance.

“You’re so precious when you’re needy,” he mumbled. And although I stubbornly avoided looking him in the eyes out of protest, he forced my face towards him again, anyway. “Go on. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” I whined through a prominent pout that did me no favors.

“Say it.”

“Please!”

I managed to make eye contact, but it was fleeting. As soon as he thrust forward into me, my back arched and I lost myself in the pillows. My hands found him, though, leaving angry red welts over heated skin. If Spencer was at all affected by the pain, he made no showing of it. His pace continued, steadily forcing our bodies together until I trembled in his hands.

He would hold me there, at my limit but not pleading for him to do anything different. With tender hands, he would fuck me until I swore bruises would follow. But I never felt unsafe; I felt cared for and cherished in a way I’d never known. I trusted him to know my limits better than myself.

I trusted him with all of me because I had already seen that when given the chance, he would do whatever he could to protect me.

The love I felt must have shone through my eyes because his hips got slower, drawing out each movement. My hips rose in tandem with his, allowing me to feel every inch of him inside of me.

“This body belongs to me now and forever,” he whispered.

It always has.

“You belong to me.”

And I felt it. The undeniable string of fate that tied us to each other. I could feel his every emotion as his fingers brushed over my throat. I melted under his touch, completely consumed by the love he felt for me. The kind of love that people spent their whole lives searching for only to come up empty. That powerful thing that drove gods to war and men to madness.

The only feeling that could tear down every wall that had been carefully crafted to protect myself. Because I didn’t need them anymore. Spencer’s arms would take their place, holding me through the storms that might follow the same way he had carried me through the ones that led us here.

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m yours.”

For forever and whatever comes after.

The words were truer than they’d ever been before, and Spencer took it as permission to let go of any remaining hesitation. The slow, gentle thrusts became faster and our moans echoed in the small room without a second thought to the poor patrons in the rooms surrounding us. Because if they felt what we did, they would understand. Spencer still tried to hush the sounds, crashing his lips over mine in a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

I was suddenly reminded of every romantic story I’d ever heard. They all spoke of feeling so close to someone that they felt like an extension of yourself. I wasn’t sure if it was completely true, but there was no denying how at home our bodies were. The way our tongues wrapped around one another and how our noses bumped so gently in the chaos was unmatched by any meeting driven by lust or need.

His hips met mine over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to keep him closer. Even when my hips chased his to be held longer, Spencer was persistent in the ruthless pace. Because like me, he was lost in the euphoria. I knew it from the sound of his whimpers and the way he bit my lip just a little bit harder.

“Tell me what you want, little girl,” he begged. Not ordered. Begged.

“You,” I answered without any doubt, “I just want you.”

His response came even faster, even more desperate and scratchy as it came through his lips into mine.

“You have me. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I will take care of you.”

There was nothing left to say. I could feel the truth and force behind the words as he fucked me harder, eliciting one more quiet cry from me in the sound of his name.

“Spencer...”

When he returned the call, though, it wasn’t with any name I’d heard from him before.

“So you better get used to this feeling,” he said through a smile that I felt on my lips before he drew back. He looked me in the eye as he buried himself in me, tensing to hold himself back just a few seconds longer. To see the look on my face and let that be the feeling of us giving in to each other for the first time in our new story.

“Because I’m never going to grow tired of this, Mrs. Reid.”

Mrs. Reid.

That was going to be my name.

Mrs. Reid.

That was the only thought running through my mind as I felt the coil in my gut snap and all of my muscles tense around him. There were no whorish sounds left in my lungs, only little whimpers and whines as I tried to claw him closer. Spencer gave up his visual in exchange for kissing me while he finished. My walls held him so tightly that I felt each pulse and every place where his release filled me. But nothing was more compelling than feeling the way his lip quivered between mine as his body fell onto mine with no grace required.

Spencer could act hard all he wanted, but I felt the way he craved softness. Safety. Love. All things I was happy to give… for a price.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” he replied sleepily but animated enough to have a healthy dose of snark. Snark that earned him a rough nudge of my elbow into his ribs.

“You know!”

But naturally, the genius had to play dumb. With a happy little hum, he snuggled closer to me, burying his face into my neck so he could mumble against the skin, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Please,” I sighed, “for me?”

He seemed to contemplate the plea for a little while longer, with wiggling toes I felt against my shins and a happy sigh that breezed over my neck. I tried to take in those small things while I waited, knowing that while I had a lifetime to learn them, this moment would never come again.

“Fine,” he finally settled, propping himself up to give another soft kiss followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Only for you, Mrs. Reid.”

—— The Next Morning ——

Waking up next to Spencer with a ring on my finger was literally waking up to find my dream come to life. And sure, his light snoring and constant wriggling under the sheets he continued to pull off of me weren’t perfect or picturesque, but they were real. The same way that he chirped when he felt my legs wrap around him in his sleep and only woke when he heard me giggling.

His eyes fluttered open, taken aback by something that he saw. Although I would blame it on the sunlight filtering through the curtains, I was sure that he would give me all the credit.

“Good morning,” he slurred.

“Hi,” I answered with a smile and an attempt to pull him closer. But my hand was stopped by his, squeezing my palm between his fingers before dragging my knuckles to his lips. From there, he laid a gentle kiss over the diamond he’d placed there the night before. Although it was strange to be outshone by a rock, I let it go for now.

“I know you shouldn’t sleep with it on, but it’s so nice to see it’s still there,” he said with a heavy breath before lowering our still joined hands to rest against his heart. I could feel the way it beat a little bit quicker as I came closer, and I wondered if this was really what it would be like forever.

“I couldn’t resist wearing it.”

“You know you can still change your mind, right? We haven’t told anyone.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I replied unlike every time before. There was no teasing, no joke or anger or sadness. Just a pure, unadulterated joy.

… Of course, the question did bring up an entirely new anxiety. It did feel a bit silly, but it needs to be expressed.

“Have you?”

“God, no,” he laughed. Like he’d only asked the question to see the way I might panic. But as soon as I heard his assurance, I knew it was the truth.

My mind started to drift back to that first morning we spent together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but everything still felt so very much the same. I wondered if there were things I would change if given the chance. It wasn’t until after I ran through the laundry list of things that we would have been better off without that I realized I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t a matter of what I would have changed, but what I would have kept the same. And the answer was simple. No matter what I would face in my life, I just wanted it to be with him. Everything would be okay as long as I had him.

However, when I tried to kiss him, Spencer still seemed hung up on the things he would have changed. Our lips didn’t connect for even ten seconds before he broke apart, happily laughing through the words, “This is so much better when I’m not hungover.”

“Old man.”

He didn’t argue back, wiggling under the sheets until our chests were pressed together. I took it as a very poor attempt at a power play, because instead of craning my neck to look up at him from my spot, I simply climbed his lanky figure until our noses were pressed together.

“Your old man now,” he corrected, followed by my own clarification of, “You were always mine, Dr. Reid.”

“But now you get to show everyone.” He grinned, letting go of my hand to roam over the curves of my body. His daily attempts to memorize each version of me he held. After a few more moments of silent reverence, I asked the question we’d have to face eventually, lest we face even more awkward, embarrassing moments with the team.

“Who’s gonna tell everyone?”

He barely even considered the options before he shrugged.

“Let’s just… wing it.”

I paused, certain that I’d heard it wrong. “You, Spencer Reid, would like to ‘wing it?’” I repeated, barely able to get the words out without laughing from the absurdity of it all.

But he was quick to assure me, “Yeah, I do.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” I sighed. I figured that it wouldn’t be worth it to plan right now, anyway. It wasn’t exactly our style. If anything, we would find the perfect time completely by accident.

“You know what we should do first though?” I excitedly announced to the best audience a girl could ever ask for.

“What?”

“Coffee,” I drawled. To which he quickly answered, “I love you an ungodly amount.”

Taking full advantage of that admission, I shoved the poor soul who’d shackled himself to me forever away as I ordered, “Go turn it on. I am craving shitty hotel coffee in bed with my fiancé.”

“Fine,” he resigned with a smile while rolling out of the bed, “Spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat!” I shouted back from safe under the covers that I could finally get back in his absence. They weren’t as good as him, but they would be enough for now. I buried my face into his pillow, snickering as I heard a very tired Spencer call from the bathroom, “Forever mine!”

Just as the sounds of running water filled the room, I lifted my head at the distant sound of familiar chiming beside me.

“Is that my phone?”

I didn’t answer, paralyzed in my place as I felt the most intense sensation of deja vu I’d ever experienced. Right there on the nightstand, I saw the name Hotchner.

Spencer was quicker this time to leave the bathroom, but just as he turned the corner, a thought must have stopped him. Because he paused, staring at me with hotel sheets gathered around me and his phone against my ear.

He didn’t try to fight me for the device. In fact, he didn’t move at all, watching from a few feet away with a smile I’d never seen before. The kind that I felt so deep inside of me that I realized this was what they meant to share a soul with someone.

“Hello,” I spoke softly and filled with love, “this is Mrs. Reid.”

The End.

—————————————————

Epilogue

#spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid request #reid request #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid self insert

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entropy-sea-system · 10 months ago

Text

1 - Were you named after anyone ?

No, unless you count that some headmates share a name with their fictional or real source if they are a fictive / factive or -kin

2- Last time you cried ?

I think maybe last week?

3- Do you have kids?

No and we don't want any

4- What sports do you play / have you played?

Only tae kwon do, like years ago if referring to consistently doing it. I don't like the idea of it anymore bc sparring reminds me of physical abuse and its too triggering. Have a weird relationship w exercise since we have chronic pain and fatigue, don't like intentionally doing it and even daily tasks like walking leave us exhausted, and even things like going for a walk thats a bit longer than we can results in PEM(post exertional malaise), last time that happened we just fell asleep for over 12 hours once we got home.

5- Do you use sarcasm?

Some headmates do, some don't

6-Whats the first thing you notice about people?

Irl its usually their clothes / accessories or hair, for some reason it feels a bit weird for some of us to look at ppls faces or other things about them especially if theyre strangers idk. And things like voice and how they smell are not things one would notice at first glance (unless maybe you hear or smell them before you see them)

I didnt realise it also includes what you notice online, but I usually recall pfps or urls but if someone changes both it may not be likely Id recognise them again unless their description or bio are intact

7- What's your eye color?

The body's eye color is very dark brown, some headmates have different eye colors in their actual form / how they really look, which is different from how the body looks

8- Scary movies or happy endings?

Depends on how its written, but usually happy endings bc we don't like scary movies as they can make us more anxious when its dark

9-Any talents?

Not sure if hobbies count, anyways nothing unusual ? Not sure what to put here bc everything feels like its either a hobby or just how the body is

10- Where were you born?

India

11- Hobbies?

Art (drawing, painting though we havent done that in a while)(mainly traditional art but want to do more digital art also), knitting, embroidery, watching media, sometimes photography (but less often bc it can be physically exhausting), coining terms and making flags digitally, sometimes cooking (though not often unless we need to bc its physically taxing), occasionally singing (but we don't often get to be alone at home so not often)

12- Do you have any pets?

In headspace, some headmates have pets, mainly bc their fictional source has one and theyre fictives. But we don't want to raise a pet bc we aren't capable of it and most headmates don't have the ability to feel affection for pets. Its similar to why we don't want to have kids.

13- How tall are you?

5 foot 4 is the bodys height, headmates ideal forms have different heights than that

14- Favorite subject in school?

Biology (one of my in sys partners calls me their 'biology nerd' its cute), and maybe English, because I do enjoy writing, oh and definitely Art (not talking about college here but anyways yeah)

15- Dream job?

I don't know if we have one tbh.. its a little hard to actually want to have a job, if it were possible we wouldnt even have one (universal basic income when?) and it seems a little fucked up if we think about what if things we enjoy doing became a job for ua bc wow that sounds stressful. For now we're going to just try to do our best in the field we're studying to be in, but I think maybe doing commissions for art or selling our art sounds doable, especially if I develop better art skills. I used to have an interest in wildlife biology but the bodys parents didn't approve (and so I couldnt pursue any study in that - it would have been difficult) and like I dont know how easily one can be a scientist and still be financially stable or even have a job, but our physical ability has also declined and the topic sort of triggers one of my ocd themes due to how ive seen some ppl talk about wildlife biologists / other naturalists, so its not feasible unless I somehow become able bodied or find a workplace w accomodations and actually get ocd cured somehow(similar applies for marine biology), and even then im not sure it would be worth the burnout.

no pressure tags : @strawbiraptora @sluttytylerdurden @annapoofle @disasterdemi @gehe-lihiyot-androgynos-varda @theconstellarium @gestaltsystem

@carebearbro

and anyone else who wants to do this

Saw this tag game on another post and thought I'd do it (idk if I've done it before, maybe something similar, but my answers will be different anyway)

1. Were you named after anyone?

Nope My chosen name (Allister) however, is from a youtuber who has a very cool name and I stole it (Alasdair Beckett-King, very funny videos and he has great hair too). I adapted it a bit so people in Spain would at least have an idea of how to pronounce it at first glance (hopefully) It has nothing to do with any Crowley (which I did not realize was a thing until recently), tho for a bit I named myself AJ like Good Omens Crowley, but I don't like how it sounds in Spanish...

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last month probably

3. Do you have kids?

No. And I don't want any. I don't dislike them, but it's not for me

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Judo, karate and football (the indoors kind). All as a kid/teen. Now my brother and I walk every week day and go up and down stairs (when we remember...) One day I want to try to go to a gym to get some muscle, but not too much, just a bit of definition. Also, I'd enjoy doing rock climbing, but not competitive climbing or anything like that

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sometimes

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Irl: the way they move their face and hands when they speak, which then I subconsciously use to recognize people, bc I'm a bit face blind Online: the way they choose to express themselves

7. What's your eye color?

Gray/light blue on the outside and artichoke green/lime on the inside

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I like both, but I'd rather watch a happy ending. For scary things I prefer to watch Markiplier's scary games videos

9. Any talents?

I'm VERY good at jigsaw puzzles

10. Where were you born?

East of Spain, by some of the best Mediterranean coasts 😁. I enjoy it here, but one day I'd like to live in the UK, at least for a bit, I think I'd like it there

11. What are your hobbies?

Listening to music, singing, making art (crafting, building, drawing, painting, writing, ...), watching media (shows, panel shows, youtube, twitch), video games (rhythm/dancing, platformer, puzzle... Also minecraft, powerwash sim, potion craft...), going for walks, exercise, learning languages (especially English) If I had any good ones close, I'd go to theatres and museums too. And, if I had money, I'd travel. I'm also slowly learning about taking care of plants

12. Do you have any pets?

Not yet. I'd love to have dogs, cats, frogs, snakes... or anything really. I love animals. But I think cats and frogs would be the best fit for me, considering my personality and current lifestyle I've always wanted a dog, but I've only had a turtle and a hamster

13. How tall are you?

1.63m or 5’3”

14. Favorite subject in school?

Biology and technology

15. Dream job?

Anything that pays me enough to be independent and let me do all my hobbies Although, if I ever have the patience, base skill, and required mental fortitude, I'd go for general robotics and/or prop making (for film and/or theatre)

No pressure tags in no particular order (I tried to tag as many people as I could, but apparently there's a tag limit 😅):

@swamp-communism @they-thespian666 @strongsuits @skelesona @shinekittenace @yeetmewithachainsaw @rockium-z @gordonzola-ramen @vampireopossum @libraryfag @frostytheduck @tetostar @xyrnys @normalscientist @dolltwink @anxi0usgh0st05 @piersgender

@mettatonsass @sinfulauthor @flaretheidiot @sneebles-mcgee @pivotallemonade @aroace-genderfluid-snake @monstrousmaws @satanic-leaf @virtualunease @villowrose @handrazedsun @ceiltheoutcast @atroph1k @entropy-sea-system @abby-cat99928 @maroroque @galaxgay

@realyfroggyfrog @angrysheep @llamaflower @ultrabean @sea-salt-sky @queerestqueertoeverqueer @crowleys-queen @foolishlovers @cassieno @crowleys-hips @argylepiratewd @trianglebird4 @sugarplumanderson @underlilithswings21 @crowleys-bentley-and-plants @healingmyinnerteen

and anyone else that sees this, consider yourself tagged!

#entropy tagged #tag you're it #tag game #entropy tags

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axwalker · 3 years ago

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Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my FC.

Words: 4,110

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!!

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?”

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent.

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up.

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony.

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence.

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done.

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.”

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long.

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me.

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.”

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was.

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right.

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me.

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.”

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.”

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion.

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.”

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—”

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City.

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.”

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…”

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along.

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper.

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

Drake

What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me.

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.”

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.”

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.”

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

“I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.”

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly.

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.”

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand.

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.”

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside.

“What can I do?” I ask.

“How long do we have?”

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead.

“Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?”

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway.

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine.

“I can’t just leave, can I?”

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?”

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?”

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.”

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.”

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything.

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

#tw domestic violence #toxic relationship #tw bullying

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coltsbitch · 4 years ago

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small world ~ colt grice x reader

colt grice x reader; 3.7k words; nsfw summary: colt didn’t purposely sleep with falco’s teacher

masterlist

Colt is a responsible person. He’s caring, polite, never late. All the qualities of a good person.

He is not the type of person to fuck his younger brother’s third grade teacher.

But let’s back track to that night.

Colt had finally given into Porco’s insistent pestering, who had even roped Reiner in to watching Falco for the night and let himself be dragged to a bar.

“Alright, who’s the prey for tonight?”

Colt grimaces, “I thought we were here to drink.”

Porco slaps a hand on Colt’s back, “How long has it been since you got laid?”

Colt rolls his eyes, and shrugs off Porco’s hand, “Kind of hard when you have custody of a nine-year-old.”

“Pokko, leave Colt alone.” Pieck sets down the drinks she retrieved from the bar, “We’re just happy you could come out tonight.”

“Thanks, Pieck.” It had been a rough year and a half for the Grice brothers, losing both their parents in one night and Colt having to drastically shift his life in order to care for Falco. Not that he’s bitter about, would give his life for Falco if he had to, but doesn’t make it any easier.

“But if you are looking for someone, I have a couple friends I could set you up with?”

Colt groans, dropping his head into his hand.

“Babe, he doesn’t need a relationship, he needs a fuck.”

Pieck raises her brow, “And what do you have against relationships, Porco?”

Porco’s eyes widen hearing his full name come from Pieck’s mouth, “Nothing! Nothing babe!” He pulls her into his lap, “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Pieck scoffs before returning her attention to Colt, “So what’s new?”

The three spend the next couple hours catching up, Colt filling them on Falco, Porco making lewd jokes, and Pieck reprimanding him with swats to his head.

By Colt’s third drink Pieck’s eyes are dropping and she’s practically asleep on Porco’s shoulder, who’s trying to shake her awake.

“Such a light wight.” Porco is muttering, but there’s a lace of affection, “You don’t mind if we head out?”

Colt waves him off, “I’ll probably finish this last one and then get home too.”

Porco nods, “Let me know when you get home.” Colt smiles at his friend who underneath many layers of roughness, is truly a caring guy.

Colt watches as Porco practically carries Pieck out the door. He picks at the label on his bottle, wondering if Falco is asleep by now or if Reiner indulged him with too many sweets and might still be bouncing off the walls.

Colt downs the rest of his drink and moves to stand but is interrupted from his thoughts when someone slides into booth across from him.

“You get ditched too?”

Colt freezes, “I, what?”

You crinkle you nose, “Sorry, that’s probably weird. I just saw your friends leave and thought, that’s something we have in common.”

Colt doesn’t answer, can’t answer. Because here sitting in front of him is this gorgeous woman who quite literally came out of nowhere. And maybe it’s the alcohol making his eyesight fuzzy around the edges, but you look like a goddess with the neon lights of the bar hanging over you.

You bite your lip, hoping to still salvage this, “I’m ___.” You extend your hand, glad to see he is at least able to shake it back.

“I’m Colt. Sorry.” He shakes his head, “Just wasn’t expecting anyone else.” He gives an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “Umm, so your friends left you?”

You settle into the booth, “Yeah. It was supposed to be my post break up girl’s night, but they all quickly found someone else to spend it with.”

“Sorry about the breakup?”

You wave your hand, “I’m over it. Cheating bastard wasn’t worth my time anyway. But what about you? You part of the lonely hearts club too?”

Colt laughs, “No, I mean, I guess I am. But it’s just been a rough year.”

You hum, and Colt’s thankful you don’t press further, not wanting to unload on the first pretty girl who’s looked his way in the last year, “Let me buy you a drink?”

Colt opens his mouth to politely decline, thinking about Reiner who’s waiting at his apartment for him to get back. But there’s something about the small smile on your face and shinning eyes that has him following you to the bar where you order two beers for each of you.

Now Colt will be honest, he knows he’s pretty helpless when it comes to flirting. Never quite sure what to say or how to say it. He’s watched his friends for years, even tried to get lessons from Zeke when he was in high school, but it’s all been for naught.

So with the way you’re laughing at all his jokes, even the one he knows aren’t that funny, and your knee that keeps knocking into his, or how you’ll accidentally place your hand on top of his before quickly pulling back.

There’s no way this is all in his head.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom really quick. You’re not going to bail on me, are you?”

“I’ll be right here when you get back.” Colt smiles. You bite your lip giving him a once over, causing Colt to flush under your gaze.

You nod and walk in the direction of the restrooms, and Colt throws a glance over his shoulder, seeing that you’re already looking at him as you push the door open.

What the fuck is he doing?

Colt needs to get home. He needs to prep Falco’s lunch for tomorrow, the laundry needs to be moved to the dryer, double check Falco’s homework, not to mention finish that project his supervisor has been hounding him for at work.

But Colt glances over his shoulder again and sees you still haven’t left the bathroom.

Fuck. Is he going to do this? That was a clear signal, right?

Colt flexes his hands a couple times before standing from his seat and making his way to the restrooms. It’s in a dark corner of the bar, and he double checks that no one is looking before pushing open the door.

You’re standing there with your arms crossed leaning against the sink. Your head pops up at the sound of the door opening and a grin splits out onto your face.

“Fuck.” You say, “I wasn’t sure if I was being obvious enough.”

Colt stands awkwardly, “I’m glad I wasn’t misreading it.”

You grab Colt’s hand and pull him into one of the stalls, locking the door behind you.

“What if we get caught?” Colt whispers.

You shrug, “I guess we’ll have to be quick.” You chew on your lip watching Colt process your words and the situation he’s found himself in.

He nods, face determined, looking like he’s about to enter a war or something. You giggle at his seriousness, threading your fingers through his belt loops and pulling him flush against your body.

Deciding the best way to move this along is to get right to it. Pressing your lips against his you wrap your arms around his waist, hands finding their way past his shirt, and you’re surprised to find the taught muscles that hide underneath.

Colt cups your cheeks and it’s sweet, the way he kisses you deeply. But that’s not why you seduced him into this grimy bathroom stall.

You sneak your hand down to his ass, gripping one cheek and giving it a tight squeeze, which earns you a desperate whimper and a sharp grind.

You let out a surprised laugh that turns into a moat when one of Colt’s hands lifts your leg around his hip and pins you against the stall. Colt pulls away to gasp and you use the opportunity to begin your assault on his neck.

He has to press his hand into the stall above you to ground himself, the kisses you trail along his neck not letting him think straight, but he needs to get this one thought out before he can continue anything.

“Wait, wait.” Colt puts a little distance between your bodies, “I don’t want you to think, I mean, I can’t commit to anything right now.”

You humor him with a smile, “Colt. I’m about to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom, I’m not looking for a proposal or anything.”

“Oh, okay. Good, I guess.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Colt’s cheeks darken, “Made out with someone I met thirty minutes ago? No.”

You run your hand down his chest, and back up behind his neck, “I hope we’ll end up doing more than just making out.”

“Umm, right.” Colt grunted, “Uh, do you have a condom?”

You smile and pick up your purse dropped at your feet, pulling out the latex square. Colt reaches to take it from your hand, but you pull your hand back, “Let me.”

Colt swallows and nods, watching as you reach down to his belt, undoing the buckle. You work your speedy hands, unzipping his pants and pushing down his underwear.

You glance up as you’re ripping open the package, but Colt isn’t looking at you. His eyes are transfixed on where your one hand is resting close to his newly exposed cock. Taking pity, you grasp his shaft, giving a firm tug.

Colt shudders and thrusts into your hand, “Please.” He whines.

You roll the condom down his cock, rolling your thumb over the head when it’s situated, before turning around to face the door.

A beat passes and you glance over your shoulder wondering what the holdup is.

Colt’s cheeks are a dark pink as he stares at you.

“Well?” You ask, pressing your ass into his crotch.

Colt grabs your hips to hold you still. He doesn’t want this to be over before you even have your pants off.

The two of you work together to lower your jeans, pushing them down to your knees. He traces the line of your panties with a delicate finger, captivated by the pretty lace.

“Maybe if you do a good job, I’ll let you keep them.” You tease.

Colt chokes on a laugh, realizing you caught him in his transfixed state. He pulls down the lace to bundle with your jeans and can’t help himself when he reaches around your hip and dips a finger into your folds.

You moan at the contact when he brushes against your clit that’s been ignored all night. You don’t have anything to grab onto as he spreads the wetness along your cunt, so you ball your hands into tight fists.

“So wet.” Colt praises in astonishment, “Barely touched you.” He pushes two fingers into your cunt and thickness has you curling your toes.

“C’mon.” You whine, “We’re running out of time.” You’re really just desperate for his damn cock to fill you up already, but you don’t want to beg.

“Fuck.” Colt mutters, as if realizing he can’t take his time like he wants to, like you deserve.

Pulling your hips back and pushing you down a little, Colt lines himself up. The heat radiating from your pussy makes his head spin a little. But he pushes himself in slowly, inch by inch. And you have to stand there and take it, the door in front of you making it impossible to escape.

He lets out a groan when he bottoms out, and you squirm as his balls brush against your clit.

Colt’s arm wraps around your stomach, pulling you up against him as starts to thrust shallowly.

One of your hand flies to his arm, nails digging in when he hits a spot deep in you. Still bracing yourself against the door you let you head fall forward trying to suppress a groan.

Colt shushes you, kissing the back of your neck, “Need to keep quiet, right?” You nod meeting his thrusts, a particularly sharp thrust making you clench and Colt moans into your hair.

“I thought we needed to be quiet.” You tease.

Colt has a snarky comment on his tongue but holds it back when the door opens, sound from the bar spilling in. You both freeze. It’s pretty obvious what’s happening if someone were to look under the crack of the door, but you’re also in the last stall.

Both of your hearts are beating loudly in your chests as the sounds of someone washing off spilled beer on their shirt reaches you.

“Quiet.” Colt whispers in your ear that has you nodding along. But the thrill of getting caught reignites the flame in your core and you can’t even stop your body from rolling back on his cock.

“Fuck.” You harshly mutter, eyes rolling into the back of your head. The feeling only amplified when Colt shoves his fingers in your mouth, the same fingers that were deep in your cunt, now covered in your cream that’s assaulting your senses.

Your muffled moans test Colt’s patience while he waits for the person to exit the bathroom. And the second he hears the door shut, he’s slamming into you with a speed and power you didn’t think the blushing man had in himself.

“Such a tease.” Colt gets out between clenched teeth, his hands sliding down your front to rub tight circles at your clit.

You squeak at the sensation, unable to hold back your orgasm any longer, clenching and spasming around his cock that has Colt tipping over the edge with you. But Colt doesn’t let up, thrusting through his orgasm and still playing with your clit.

“Colt!” You yelp, having to rip his hand away from your body, unable to withstand the stimulation any longer. But he grabs your hand and locks it against the bathroom stall while he gives you a few more hard thrusts.

You cry out, tears filling your eyes while he slows behind you. Colt presses a kiss to your cheek as he pulls out, and you miss the fullness. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. You can feel Colt behind you trying to situate himself. Even going as far to pull your pants up for you too.

You huff out a laugh at his chivalry, “What a gentleman.” You tease, buttoning your pants, “I guess you don’t want my panties then?” You ask over your shoulder.

Colt blushes, which warms your chest, as if he wasn’t just balls deep in you, “So it was good then?”

You turn to press a kiss to his cheek, “Yeah, you did good.”

“Good.” Colt nods, “Umm, it was for me too.”

You smile at his awkwardness, “Good. So, did you want to finish our drinks?”

Colt’s face drops, “I should probably get home, actually. But maybe,”

“No worries.” You wave him off, ignoring and not dwelling on why that disappoints you a little. You unlock the door and step out of the stall, glad to see you’re still alone.

Colt follows you out and looks like he wants to say more but decides against it, “Right. I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe.” You look over your shoulder at the door, “I’ll go out first?” Colt nods, “Okay, well. Thanks again, for everything.”

Colt smiles and you feel a little weak in the knees and like you could go for another round all over again. Readjusting your purse, you press a quick kiss to Colt’s lips before heading out the door, not looking back. And Colt isn’t surprised when he returns to the bar to see you’ve already left, but none the less slightly disappointed at the fact.

Colt manages to make it home just a little after midnight. He quietly opens and closes the door, praying not to wake anyone. Reiner is sitting in the on the couch watching a silent television.

“Falco asleep?” Colt whispers, toeing off his shoes and hanging his jacket on the hook.

Reiner nods and flips off the television, “Crashed a couple hours ago. He was trying to stay up until you got home, but just couldn’t do it.”

Colt feels a brief flash of guilt but shakes it away.

“Thanks again. I know Porco roped you into it, but thanks.” Colt isn’t good at accepting help from others, especially when it comes to Falco, but his friends usually don’t take no for an answer.

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner waves him off, “You have fun tonight?”

Colt shrugs, “It was nice.”

Reiner gives a noncommittal hum, eyeing Colt as he pauses at the door, “Might want to wash the lipstick off your neck before getting into bed.” Colt chokes on nothing as Reiner’s shoulders shake with laughter, “See ya later.”

The rest of the weekend Colt tries and fails to push you from his thoughts. Yeah, he was the one who made it clear it was a one-time thing, and maybe it’s because he hasn’t gotten laid in so long, but he’s really wishing he had at least asked for your phone number.

Monday morning he drives Falco to school, and he’s contemplating texting Porco about going to the same bar again this weekend, with the off chance you might be there again.

“Bye Colt!” Falco screams slamming the door. Colt winces at the sound, swearing one of these days that boy was going to break off the door. Out of habit he checks the back seat, and Colt has to repress a groan when he sees Falco left behind his superhero lunchbox.

Colt peers out the window to see Falco is already long gone, somewhere in the mess of children who are running around the playground for the few minutes they have before the bell rings.

He knows he’ll get a tearful phone call later if he doesn’t get the lunch box to Falco, so Colt resigns himself to being late to work and pulls into the parking lot.

Lunch box in hand Colt walks towards the playground, hoping that Falco will see him and make this detour faster than it needs to be. Colt is fiddling with the lock, making sure it’s secure which makes him walk straight into the playground monitor.

“Shit.” Colt mutters “Sorry, I wasn’t watching-” But the rest dies in his throat when he sees it’s you standing in the bright orange vest.

You’re just as surprised to see Colt standing in front of you. Thrown and honestly a little concerned as why the fuck he would be here at your elementary school.

“Colt?” You ask.

“Umm. Hi?”

You give him a once over, appreciating the button down and slacks he’s wearing today, also taking note of the children’s lunch box in his hands. A bit too old to be at this school, but also a little too young to have a child here, you think.

“Colt!” You both turn at the sound, and you realize it’s one of your sweetest students sprinting towards you, calling his name.

Falco comes to a halt, “Is that my lunch box?” He asks, grabbing it before Colt can even answer.

“You forgot it.” Colt is able to choke out, eyes jumping back and forth between you and Falco.

Falco follows his older brother’s eyes and realizes you’re standing with them. Somehow having missed the vibrant orange safety vest you have thrown around you shoulders, honestly making you a little self-conscious that this is what Colt is seeing you in after this weekend.

Not that you care what he thinks of you. You’re not looking for anything right now.

“Ms.___?” Falco pulls on your hand, “Do you know Colt?” You open your mouth, unsure how to respond, not like you could explain it to the nine-year-old.

“I’m Falco’s brother.” Colt sticks out his hand, which seems like an overkill to you since he’s literally been inside you.

“Oh.” You say, taking his hand, well aware of the Grice family situation. And your heart clenches at the thought, making a little bit more sense why he was so firm about letting you know Friday night was a onetime thing.

You’re spared from saying anything when the bell rings, signaling the start of school.

“Sounds like you better get to class.” Colt tells Falco.

Falco pouts, sad he wasted his last few minutes talking to his brother and teacher, “Okay.” But still takes the time to hug his brother, “Thanks for my lunch box!” Before sprinting towards the entrance.

You clear your throat, “Falco’s a good student.” Mentally face palming yourself for the awkward comment.

Colt’s eyes widen, “You’re Falco’s teacher?” You nod while Colt mutters out a curse, earning a giggle from you, “This is awkward, right?”

You nod, “A little.” You chew on your lip, unsure what to say, but realize most of the students have cleared out, and it’s probably not the best to leave your thirty students unsupervised for too long, “Well, I need to-”

“I know this-”

You both stop while the other tries to talk, quietly laughing. “You go.”

Colt rubs the back of his neck, “I know we both agreed to a one-time thing, but I think I’d hate myself if I didn’t ask for your number.”

Your mouth parts, “Oh.” And Colt flushes, “Umm.” You avert your eyes, “It’s just, your brother is in my class and I try not to mix personal life with work.” You stumble over your words.

Colt flushes further, “Right, sorry. That was rude of me to ask, especially here.” Colt glances at the ground.

You chew on your lip, still thinking it over. It’s not that you don’t want to see Colt again. But he is the guardian of one of your students and you just got out of long relationship, not looking to jump into another right away.

“Maybe I can get yours?” You offer, and Colt’s head shoots up, eyes a little wide, “I mean, incase Falco forgets his lunch again?” A small smile playing on your lips, holding your phone out.

“Right.” Colt agrees, typing his number in, “He’s very forgetful. And it’s not like he’ll be in your class forever.” Colt says but it comes across as a hopeful question.

You have to bite your cheek to keep from smiling too wide at his forwardness, accepting your phone back, “I’ll see you around Colt.”

#colt grice x reader #colt grice #colt x reader #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader

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todrokishoto · 4 years ago

Text

late night conversations | shouto todoroki

summary: excitement leads to insomnia and insomnia leads to a conversation with mr. shouto todoroki

warning(s): mentions of fighting and poor half and half’s childhood. slight angst

a/n: ok but this is not where i was expecting this to go. it was supposed to be about something else lmao but enjoy ig

your undeniable fatigue was overwhelming, but you were still unable to succumb to the sleep you so desperately needed. not yet, anyway. your body, albeit drained from the physical training performed today during class, was buzzing.

demanding training was nothing new to class 1-a, and each and everyone of you were progressing with each round of drills the teachers would throw at you. add academic studies into the mix as well and you have the perfect recipe for exhaustion.

your door slipped shut behind you, the excitement coursing through your veins making it impossible to remain in bed. the hardwood floor was cold underneath your bare feet, but you didn’t feel like going back to fetch your slippers.

during class with mr. aizawa, you were finally able to nail the ultimate move you had been working on for the past couple of weeks. not only did it feel amazing to execute it flawlessly after so much practice, but it had scored you the victory in the fight against ururaka.

the auburn-haired girl had learned a lot during her internship and had put up more of a fight than you expected. you had seen her go up against some of your other classmates, but experiencing it in person was definitely something else.

the ding of the elevator echoed, the doors moving apart, as you arrived on the first floor. thank goodness there were no rooms on this floor because you swore the sound would have been loud enough to wake someone up.

fiddling with your phone, you moved mindlessly, trying to ignore the aches moving throughout your body. you weren’t entirely sure what you planned to do, to be quite honest, but anything seemed like a better idea than being stuck in your bedroom.

most of your classmates were sleeping, you assumed, or at the very least tucked into bed. the unusual silence of the student dorms didn’t necessarily surprise you but it did make you feel slightly uneasy. it felt foreign.

so when your name was called, you couldn’t contain the small yelp that escaped you. your phone collided with the floor, the sound once again echoing around the (almost) empty common room, and you winced. with a flick of the wrist, your quirk brought your phone back into your hand and you glanced up to inspect who else was awake at this hour.

“shouto?”

his bicolored hair fell into his eyes as he nodded. it was obvious the boy needed a haircut soon but you didn’t dare comment on it. instead, you swallowed the remainder of your shock and made your way over to the sofa he was seated on.

“what are you doing up?” you questioned quietly, hoping you weren’t prying too much.

“couldn’t sleep. my thoughts are a little overwhelming at the moment.”

you nodded, your lips pursing together as you tried to wrack your brain for an appropriate response. the two of you had shared a handful of conversations but he was always so formal, making it hard to decipher his true feelings about you. if anyone were to ask if you were friends, you had no idea what to say.

he spoke first, “sorry for scaring you, by the way.”

“it’s all good,” you assured quickly, the corner of your lips twitching with hints of embarrassment. “i, uh, just didn’t expect anyone else to be awake. i can leave. if, uh, you know, you want me to.”

he shook his head, strands of red and white mixing together. he didn’t verbally protest but scooted over slightly, leaving more room on the couch for you to sit. you accepted his silent offer, not saying anything either, as you lowered yourself onto the sofa.

the silence continued. you were itching to break it, each second passing making you feel more and more on edge. shouto didn’t make a move to talk like he had previously and you found yourself wondering if it was due to his preoccupied mind or an inability to find the right words. maybe he had just invited you to sit out of common courtesy, secretly hoping you’d decline.

“great job—”

“so, how did—”

a smile tugged on your lips as his bicolored eyes widened slightly. you nodded, waiting for him to continue his sentence. he remained quiet for a brief moment and you wondered if he suddenly regretted what he was about to say.

“i just wanted to congratulate you on your win against uraraka. you did a great job,” he praised, his words being nothing but earnest.

“thank you. i didn’t know you were, uh, watching,” you admitted. why were you suddenly feeling self-conscious about him watching you fight? most of your classmates had, so why was he different?

he nodded. “kirishima was able to knock me outside the ring, so i had some time to watch you both.”

“kirishima? really? i mean— he’s my friend and i love him, but he beat you? really?”

his eyes closed momentarily as his left hand came up to his face. his fingers traced the scar framing his eye, seemingly subconsciously. you felt rude for watching him so intently but you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the contrast of his bright blue orb compared to the red mark.

only when his eyes met yours did you realize that you had been caught staring. you averted your gaze immediately. you desperately wanted the conversation to continue and you were inwardly scolding yourself when he spoke again.

“he made a comment and i got distracted, so he had an opening. he did put up a pretty good fight before that, though,” he recalled, his gaze flickering toward his hands now clasped in his lap. “i keep getting distracted when my past or family is mentioned, which is starting to mess with my focus and training.”

you swallowed, your chest swelling with pride. out of all people, shouto todoroki had decided to confide in you. while you knew a lot about him, his family and his past, most of the information came from your other classmates or rumors. he, himself, had never really seemed interested in sharing those details with you and you refused to pry.

“what did he say? i’ll beat his ass.”

a laugh. you hoped the surprise you felt wasn’t physically visible. his laughter was rarely shared and you could probably count on one hand how many times you had heard it. you decided right then and there that you would give anything to hear it again and again.

“just something about my left side matching him. you know, with the red all? it was mindless, really. no need to give him a beating on my behalf. he apologized after,” he assured. “i just... i hate that no matter what i do, my father and the family name still has this affect on me.”

his brain was reeling. you could practically see the gears turning and his internal conflict was essentially radiating from his body. eager to offer advice, you had to bite your bottom lip to keep quiet. you wanted to give him some time with his thoughts. you had interrupted him earlier, after all.

you knew about his complicated family dynamic. he inspired you, honestly. despite everything he had experienced so far in his young life, he was still able to be one of the top students. he was still able to get up in the morning and go about his day. other people weren’t that strong.

“i’m going to speak freely for a moment, if you don’t mind,” he didn’t object, so you continued. “no matter how much you wish he wasn’t, endeavor will always be your father. there’s not a single person who wouldn’t agree that your childhood was horrible, but you can’t change what happened.”

he listened, almost clinging to every word, desperate for validation. so you kept going,

“what i’m trying to say is that you’ve come so far. when school started, you were so reserved, obsessing over how your family name defined you. now, i see you laughing with iida and deku during lunch. you use your left side with, what seems like, no hesitation. children can’t choose their parents. you just need to keep proving that you’re better. that you’re able to come out on top. but you have to do it for you.”

you weren’t sure if your words had efficiently conveyed what you truly wanted to say. there was so much more you wanted to tell him. you wanted to praise him, encourage him, let him know that while you two weren’t the closest - you would always be there for him.

but as he remained quiet, you couldn’t help but worry that you had crossed a line. that was it. if your relationship could be considered friendship in the first place, you had definitely ruined it now. each second of silence ensuing was like a stab to your heart, which was already thumping from nervousness, mind you.

“thank you,” it was no louder than a whisper but you heard it clear as day. “i needed— thank you.”

the double-quirked boy wasn’t one to openly show his feelings. everyone knew this. whether he was angry, sad or happy, his face always appeared to successfully hide it. so you pretended not to notice the tears welling up in his eyes, offering him a smile instead.

once again, there was a silence engulfing the two of you. this one, though, wasn’t thick and awkward. it was welcome and comfortable. the kind of silence that happens between best friends and neither one of them mind.

you were the one to break it, albeit involuntarily. you know how bodies do things that you don’t necessarily want them do? yeah, well your body did just that. shouto’s bicolored eyes met with yours as a violent shiver coursed through you. was it really that cold?

he seemed to study you briefly before holding out his arm and angling his body slightly toward you. you weren’t sure if he was just that oblivious or if he was being bold. this time, it was your mind going into overdrive. it seemed innocent enough but you still felt hesitant to accept his offer.

before you were able to either accept or decline, his arm had wrapped around your shoulders. with a gentle tug, you practically fell into his embrace, immediately feeling the warmth from his skin. your tense muscles relaxed and you let his heat melt away your worries.

“my left side’s not all bad, i guess,” he mused and you swore you could hear a smirk. your face was pressed into his chest, making it impossible for you to check.

instead, you readjusted your arm, placing it on his abdomen. he tensed up ever-so-slightly when you did, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, but neither of you commented on it. his chest continuously rose and fell with each breath, creating a rather comforting rhythm.

“so, what did you think about my fight? did i impress mr. shouto todoroki?”

yet another laugh escaped him, his chest rumbling underneath you. you swore it was one of the most beautiful sounds you had ever heard and it was easily becoming one of your favorites. you would, without hesitation, fight anyone who dared take it away from him.

he began telling you about what he had noticed during your fight and you listened. you knew he was giving honest advice, and honestly, you could probably use the pointers but you found yourself more captivated by his voice than anything else. had it always been this smooth?

your conversations continued. they were random and sometimes one-sided, and you had no idea how they lasted but you didn’t want them to stop. he didn’t either, it seemed, occasionally bringing up new topics himself. they continued long into the night, you were sure.

and, eventually, fatigue caught up to the both of you. the conversations more and more scarce. his breathing growing more and more shallow, barely moving underneath you. your eyelids getting heavier and heavier.

neither one of you retreated to your respective bedrooms. neither one of you moved; your bodies just melting together like missing puzzle pieces finally finding each other. and neither one of you heard the snickers and camera shutters from your classmates in the morning.

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