#Why're they meeting in a dream?

[radiance1]

Inspired by this post made by @puppetmaster13u

Shazam meets Danny in a dream.

This wasn't even anything purposeful on either side, it just... happened. Shazam, or more accurately, Billy was staring up at the giant that is simply Danny in merman form. Smaller than Space Whale form but still very gigantic.

Danny simply looked back, head resting on his hand as he watched Billy in curiosity. Both of them are aware that this? Most definitely a dream, but they don't know why they're meeting in said dream.

Vlad is there too, somewhere. Mostly in the background just being a void creature. Mayhaps laying around, mayhaps just watching on from the shadows or something.

Point is, Billy, Champion of Magic, is in a dream sequence with eldritch space whale in a humanoid form with a void being lurking somewhere in the background.

This could've been written off if it happened once, but no.

It happens multiple times.

[lymtw]

Toji in a fresh relationship with you, where he notices how uncomfortable and anxious you are when you're alone with him. You can't hold his gaze without giggling nervously and blushing like crazy, and you can't stand when you can feel him watching you. It doesn't bother him. He usually meets your little giggle fits with a "what're you giggling about now? Huh?" a smirk on his face as he watches you try to compose yourself.

You noticed through your peripheral vision that Toji is looking at you. Your heart starts beating faster and faster, but you try to focus on the movie, anyway. Toji knows you caught on to him watching you, though. He saw your quick little side eye towards him before going back to the movie.

"Loosen up," his deep voice interrupts your "focused" bearing. "Why're you so nervous?" His hand settles on your knee, his thumb slowly stroking the area. It was meant to soothe your nerves, but really it just made your stomach errupt with butterflies.

"I'm okay," you say, your mouth incredibly dry. You turn your head as he scoots closer to you on the couch. "'M I okay to sit here?" He asks, watching the way you pull your hand away from between you and him, into your lap. His hand returns on you, this time on your thigh.

"You're shaking," he points out with a knowing smile on his face.

You have to think for a second before responding. Your ears were buzzing, your heart would not settle, you were truly in a daze whenever Toji was around.

"Just a little cold," you lie. "I'm fine, though." You return the soft smile, turning your focus back to the movie.

"Then, come here. What are you sitting so far from me for?" He puts an arm over your shoulders, pulling you tight against him.

Your body goes rigid in his hold. He's like a furnace, and the heat emmanating from his body was enough to make you feel like you were overheating. His scent was wet dream fuel—intoxicating and addicting. It was strong enough for you to start manifesting his appearance in your dreams, with the most lewd and unholy intentions.

His fingers stroked your arm, eliciting goosebumps on your forearms and your thighs. He can tell your attention isn't on the movie anymore. Your leg is bouncing, your knee occasionally knocking against his.

"What are you so nervous about, sweetheart? C'mon, talk to me." You can hear the amusement in Toji's tone. He pauses the movie, demanding your attention, but you don't even know where to start. There are so many things and yet you can't get a single one of them out.

"You don't like hanging out alone with me?"

"I do," you answer, instantly, trying to avoid hurting his feelings. You clasp your hands together in an attempt to relax.

"Then what's the problem, pretty?" He watches as you sit quietly, looking down at your lap. "Look at me." Your eyes slowly meet his, the eye contact giving you the illusion of being swallowed whole. "What is it?"

Your hands unclasp and your fingers start fidgeting with one another. "You're very attractive..." you mumble, basically inaudible to Toji.

"One more time for me, doll," he says, asking you to repeat yourself. He leans in to listen closely.

"You're... very attractive," you hesitantly repeat, this time with enough volume for Toji to hear you.

He's trying so hard not to laugh at how embarrassed you look at your admission, but it's not possible when you look so ashamed for saying it out loud.

"You're attracted to me, so you shrink?" He asks, the wide smile left behind from his laughter not diminishing.

You nod, your hands coming up to your face to cool down your burning cheeks. Toji finds the glossiness in your eyes adorable.

"So, I'm the one scaring you?"

"No...? I don't know..." You look away from Toji.

"You don't know." Toji chuckles. He knows it's him, but he won't let up because he's having a damn good time making you coil in on yourself. "Let me tell you something, doll face." He turns his whole body towards you, his leg bent on the couch. The movement causes you to lean back, adding space between you and him. His eyes flit between your eyes and your lips. "You are stunning. There's way too much to appreciate on that little mug of yours." He grins at the blush on your cheeks. "There's no need to be so shy around me. I'm not gonna eat you." He leans in again, taking up the whole space you made between you and him. "At least not yet."

Your heart dropped to your guts. You weren't sure you'd make it through the night without having a heart attack.

"You wanna kiss me, don't you?" His eyes center on yours, and you giggle, a valid response to his question. He smirks knowing the meaning behind your reaction. "I have eyes, babe. There's really no use denying it."

The closer he moves towards you, the more you feel like screaming. You know a good scream would relieve a whole lot of tension for you, but what would that look like to Toji?

"I-I do..."

"Come closer, then. Why are you leaning away?" He lets out a deep chuckle. "I'll lead if you want."

"Fine," you surrender.

Toji sighs, contentedly. "Just don't move. I'm serious, pretty girl. You move, and i'll bring the cuffs out."

You crack a grin, one that evolves into a laugh after a few seconds.

"Kidding, ma. Just wanted to make you laugh." He grins.

You don't even notice how close he's sitting until you stop laughing. You stare at each other in silence, his eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips again.

"Just relax and-"

You lean in this time, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks. It's like a zap of electricity to your entire body when you feel his lips against yours. They're warm, and surprisingly soft. He doesn't shove his tongue into your mouth, which you're grateful for. That's for later on. You just couldn't wait any longer. Waiting was making you even more anxious, so you dived into the moment.

"Oh, sweetheart," he almost groans. "You'll drive me insane if you keep up the shy girl act," he mutters against your lips. "I know you want me like I want you, so quit making me beg." He moved closer towards you, knowing you'd back away, eventually meeting a dead end with your back against the couch armrest. Your eyes told him everything he needed to know. You were lusting over him and you wanted him to get you.

You looked up at him with starry eyes, your cunt throbbing at the way he watched you closely. You watched as he quickly invaded your personal space, his body wedged between your legs, making them spread wider to accomodate his size difference.

"What are you so scared of? Don't you want me?" His hands fiddled with the hem of your shirt. His knuckles grazed your lower abdomen a couple times, making your heart race.

"I-I do, Toji." Your focus went to his crotch rubbing up against you as he leaned in.

"Yeah, you do?" He purred beneath your ear, allowing his lips to meet the sensitive skin of your neck after.

"Fuck," you whimper. "I do."

"You wet for me?" He asks, moving his lower body enough to make you believe he's just balancing himself, but still giving you the friction that's making you lose your composure.

"Mhm," you hum, breathing erratically as he kisses up the column of your neck, towards your chin.

"Can I check?" He murmurs, nipping at your jawline. You shut your eyes, your teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as another blissed out "mhm" leaves you.

His hand slides down your waist, moving towards the center of your stomach where he continues sliding down until his fingers go under your pants' waistband. He feels the elastic band of your underwear, his fingers maneuvering beneath it as well. You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower until he's tracing your slippery folds. His dick twitches at the amount of arousal drooling out of you.

"You're bad, mama." He sighs, listening to your little breaths as he teases you. How long had you been turned on to be this wet? "Were you gonna keep this from me had I not been so persistent?" His middle and index fingers glide up and down your slit.

You let out a moan when he started rubbing your clit, his rough pads giving you more friction than anything you've ever felt.

"Answer me." His dark, green eyes bore into your closed ones. "Were you gonna get yourself off once I left?"

"Y-Yes! Yes, Toji," you cried out, writhing beneath him. "Didn't wanna tell you. It's embarrassing," you whine.

He chuckles. "That why you were on edge earlier? 'Cause you were on the edge of cumming, untouched?"

You nod, rolling your eyes open to meet his gaze. Your lust-filled gaze made chills run up his spine, the sight borderline sinful. He cups your jaw with his free hand, his grip tight as he stares into your constellation eyes. "Look at me like that again and i'll fuck you 'til you can't see straight. You hear me?" He was fighting the urge to bust his load into his jeans. It was already hard enough having to watch you as you fell apart on his fingers, but now you were giving him "fuck me" eyes, and it got ten times harder.

His threat only brought your orgasm closer. He had never spoken to you that way before. It had your stomach filling to the brim with butterflies, but you responded with a moaned "uh-huh", anyway.

"T-Toji, I'm gonna cum. More, please," you whimpered.

"Aren't you a sensitive little thing? Didn't even have to finger you to make you cum."

"Oh, fuck-" you cry out, cut off by Toji's hand.

"Shh... I know, I know, sweet girl," he coos, his fingers teasing you down at your entrance. "Gonna cum? Make a pretty mess on my fingers, hm?" He mumbles, his lips returning to your neck.

You hum, sultrily. Your arms are stretched above your head, your nails digging into the armrest of the couch. You arch your back off the cushions, loud gasps released into the air when Toji releases his hold on your mouth. You slowly roll your hips into Toji's hand, chasing the friction against your cunt.

"Fuck, baby. You feeling yourself?" His cock is throbbing at the sight of you looking so careless. Your face is aimed up, your lips parted as you release all the sounds of pleasure that you're capable of. His fingers go back up to your clit, the pad of his middle finger rubbing rapidly at the nub. It was driving you insane, how close you were to cumming on his fingers. Your stomach caved with every breath you inhaled and your whole body trembled as you treaded over the edge of your devastingly powerful orgasm.

Toji watched as you writhed beneath him, his lidded eyes taking in your contorted features as you cried out in overwhelming pleasure. He leaned in to kiss up your neck again, really just wanting to be closer to the source of the sounds filling the room. "So fuckin' pretty," he trilled into your jaw. Your soft little grunts reached his ears, turning to whines as you tried to wriggle away from the stimulation. He didn't miss the way your thighs clamped around his torso, signaling that his touch was getting to be too much. "Alright, alright. Had enough?"

You nod, a huff leaving you as he slowly takes his hand out of your underwear.

You sigh after catching your breath, feeling enlightened and satisfied. You giggle when you see Toji's staring at you. "What?"

"It's gonna be my mouth next time." His hands are on your hips, massaging deep circles into the material of your pants. "M gonna taste you on my tongue, and I want all that wetness on my lips and your cum all over my face, instead of my fingers."

"You're so vulgar, Toji," you say, with a smile on your face. You're unaware of how big the hearts in your eyes are when you look at this man.

He sighs as he lays down on you, his body weighing you down. He looks up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "How can you expect any different when you look like hell's favorite sinner when you cum?" He exhales through his nose, thinking of the look on your face as unraveled beneath him. It's now engraved in his mind. His dick could become a huge problem if he thinks about it for too long. "For real, doll, I wanna see that again but with my face between your legs."

You giggle to yourself, wishing the comment didn't have you blushing like you were. Your whole body was heating up.

"You're not gonna run when I get close to you next time, right? Gonna be a good girl for me?" He smirks at the twitch of your thighs around him.

"No, i'll be good. I promise."

"That's right, baby. I'll be looking forward to it," he says before burying his face into your breasts.

[serendipitous-girl]

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⊱✿⊰ summary: a class 1b girl admires Bakugo, what happens when she finally does something to grab his attention?

⊱✿⊰ warnings: swearing? fighting: mentions of injuries, blood, bullying this is platonic i imagine

⊱✿⊰ notes: this is pretty different from the request but uhh yipee yay im so cool Idrk what to say, I might edit this once I actually write the thing.

His bone crunched beneath your fist, a sickening blow to the center of his nose. You weren't to blame for the fight, it was fully the boy you were beating up who was at fault.

"Ugh, you...bitch!" He growled, wiping blood that was leaking from his nose. You narrowed your eyes dangerously, powers flickering to life. You shouldn't have let his stupid comments get to you, it doesn't matter that Bakugo hasn't noticed you. But the way he acted like he was somehow superior to you just because he was in 2a made you feel infuriated.

You were honestly very fired up at this point, you wanted to smash this dude's face into the ground. For now, you grabbed his collar and gave him a right hook. He was honestly pretty lame, he didn't even block the punch.

"What is going on in here?" A voice boomed, making your back straighten and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The boy had a similar reaction, while also taking this chance to worm his way out of your iron grip.

Rigidly you turned around, plastering a big smile on as you looked at All Might. He was frowning at you, eyebrows furrowed with frustration.

"Fighting other future heroes is not good behavior." He scolded, voice echoing throughout the courtyard. You felt all stares on you, prickling your skin like they were actually touching you. "You two are going to Nezu's office."

Sighing, you followed All Might while sparing a glance to the student who has formed a crowd around you. Your eyes met red, a scowl on the blond boy's face as he stared directly at you.

Bakugo noticed you. Bakugo noticed you.

•───────────•°•❀•°•──────────•

"Oi! You, what's your name?" Bakugo called, walking rapidly towards you. (In all honestly you couldn't help but feel your heart rush with excitement.)

"I'm [Last Name] why're you asking?" You replied, trying to keep your cool. Emphasis on the trying, after all it isn't everyday your UA role model notices you. He was hovering by you, arms crossed over his chest and his constant constipated expression on his face.

"I saw your fight and I'm glad that dickhead finally got what's been coming his way." Bakugo said with a shrug, "I wanted to know who actually deserves a place in this school."

"So, I'm...not an extra to you? Even though I'm in 1b?" You asked, eyebrow raised slightly. It was strange, bantering with someone you have imagined as a role model. This felt like a fever dream.

"Eh, you're less of an extra. I'll keep an eye on you, [Last Name.] I hope you meet my expectations." Bakugo said, before marching away once again. Holy...fucking..shit.

You watched him walk away, eyes wide and jaw slightly dropped. Surely this was fiction, surely a hallucination caused by head trauma. You pinched your arm to check, and sure enough this was real.

You hoped to meet his expectations too.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[grandlinedreams]

|| welcome fellow Ghoul fuckers ily

|| notes: sequel to [this], got nothin' to really say beyond reader and Cooper make the most fucked up implied pseudo parents for Lucy lmao, Canon somewhat compliant, post s1, gonna have to wait for the prequel meeting dic to know why reader knows Coop's whole name

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, Canon typical gore/violence, something something save a horse ride a cowboy, NSFW ㅡ fingering, edging (i had to take a lap around my house), irradiated cream pie, unprotected sex (supposedly those swimmers are FRIED but I can dream),

The low croak of a crow echoes over the barren stretch of sunbaked, irradiated earth ㅡ and the creature itself lands on the bent, rusted post of a long gone sign. Tilts its head this way and that, blinks liquid black eyes ㅡ three of them. Then squawks indignantly when a bullet narrowly misses it, jet black wings flaring as it takes to the sky to complain in that low, creaking voice.

"Get lost," you tell the bird, glancing at the way Dogmeat tracks the creature. Then she whines, licks at her muzzle like she wants to go catch and eat the damn thing.

"Don't even think about it, pup." You inform her, soothing the disappointment with rough scratches to her head that have her nudging for more before you walk away, sharp whistle summoning her to your side. You don't know why, but she's taken a shine to you over your companions, and you're not about to push her away.

The set up for tonight isn't far off, but it's the skitter of some other creature off in the distance paired with the ominous rumble from above that gets your attention ㅡ and you click your tongue at the foreboding, electric green that rolls in the clouds, cracking with lightning. It isn't nightfall yet, but it's growing closer with that mess on the horizon.

There's a pitiful attempt at a fire being made by Lucy when you return, and she offers a smile that you echo briefly before moving to Cooper's side, nudging him with your boot. "Storm's rollin' in."

He grunts, tugs his hat from where he'd been shading his face ㅡ pretending to sleep to ignore Lucy's still-attempting-to-be-friendly rambles, you suppose. "How far out?"

You shrug, slinging your pack back onto your shoulders. "About an hour, give or take."

Lucy flicks a confused look to both of you as Cooper gets to his feet as well, and her head tilts. "Why're we moving?"

You raise an eyebrow. "You want radiation sickness, vaultie?" It's worth it for the way she bristles, and you snicker. "Come on. There's something of a building not far from here."

You're kind enough to wait for her unlike Cooper, who heads off with Dogmeat while you trail with Lucy.

The building was probably an apartment complex at one point for the squared off, honeycomb like interior, the sections that remain halfway decent.

The presence of scattered, long empty supply packaging ranging from stimpacks to tins of cram says that you aren't the first to be here though, and you split off with Cooper to scout out the place, leaving Lucy with Dogmeat.

You're just as quick with tongue and trigger as Cooper ㅡ Lucy has learned that the hard way over the last week or so. But there's still a softness to you that Lucy likes, gravitates towards ㅡ and figure that Cooper likes it too, for the way she spots him watching you sometimes, pretends not to notice when he looks up and glares at her.

"Clear," you report, pulling her from her thoughts as you toss her a bedroll and a spare blanket. Where you got them, she doesn't know. And the dark stains of what absolutely is most likely blood tells her she doesn't want to know.

What she does know is that she's allowed what constitutes as a room to herself ㅡ three walls and a roof that won't cave in are enough for her to take it without complaint. Dogmeat goes with her, and when she looks up, she knows why with the unspoken way you and Cooper split off for the same little room a couple broken spaces down from hers.

"Get some rest, Lucy," you tell her, offer a small smile that makes her beam as she settles down for the night, deciding that she is far, far better off not thinking about just how close you and Cooper actually are.

"Cute kid," you remark as you finally trail into the room after Cooper, earning an amused scoff.

"Fuckin' annoying is what she is," he grouses, and it's your turn to laugh as you shrug off your pack and kneel, digging for your own bedroll.

"Considering that's what you called me when we first metㅡ"

"No, I called you an annoying bitch."

"Potayto, potahto." You tug the bedroll free and roll it out, blinking as Cooper settles himself over it with a groan and then a sigh. "Excuse me."

He peers up at you. "What now?"

"This is my bed." You snip, jerking a thumb over your shoulder. "Up, Cooper."

"Nah." He folds his arms behind his head. "You like the vaultie so much, go cuddle up with her."

You stare. "Cooper Howard," you say, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous of the kid." He's silent, and you raise an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"No." The words is sharp, and he lifts his head to eye you. "Don't need to be jealous when I know what's mine," he rasps, "now quit bitchin' and c'mere."

You don't know what it says that you do so without fuss, settling yourself to straddle his hips as he sits up, draping your arms over his shoulders.

"There," you snip, adjusting to flick at the rim of his hat. "Better?"

He watches you with eyes as dark as an oil spill, and you don't miss the flick to your mouth and back up. "Gettin' there."

You snort. "You know," you murmur, tone dropping lower, "if you wanted to kiss me, all you gotta do is ask."

He smirks, the flash of his teeth. "Where's the fun in that, sugar? I like the chase. Besides," he lowers his tone, leans in further, "you're the one bitchin' when we can share this sad excuse for a bed. And the way I see it, you're gettin' the better deal anyways."

You roll your eyes, act like you're annoyed ㅡ but the way you don't tell him to shove it or get off of him speaks volumes enough.

Poetically, it starts raining just as you kiss him. The fingertip drum of it on the roof, sour-sweet smell of it that still reaches you because this isn't a real bedroom, just some shitty excuse for it. Doesn't matter, because this is far better than the kisses you've stolen over the last few days when you're absolutely certain Lucy isn't watching either of you.

Cooper seems to think so too for the way he deepens the kiss, cups your face as he nips at your lower lip and licks into your mouth when they part.

He squeezes at your hips, snakes his fingers back under your shirt, pinches and tugs and maps until you're squirming in his lap as he shoves your shirt off completely. He pulls, coaxes you into an arch that lets him mouth at your ribs, nip and sow sparks of pleasure in your veins as he leaves little patches of bruised pink skin in his wake.

He likes marking you, he realizes, the subtle claim without him having to say it. Mine.

He welcomes the grind of your hips against his, your body soft in all the ways that his isn't, filling in the cracks and rounding out all his sharp edges until he can't think of anything but getting his hands on you properly.

The pop of the button on your jeans is easy, the slip of his hand deliberate ㅡ you're louder this time, covered by the storm above as you whine and moan and buck into his hand and the sinful, clever work of his fingers.

And then just as you're about to crest that wave of pleasure, he stops. Smirks at the way you glare, taps your nose with his other hand. "You know you don't get nothin' for free around here, sugar."

He's teasing though, pushes you back to work his belt open, pants down ㅡ then dragging you back over him. Groans, tips his head back at the teasing glide of you before he's adjusting to line himself up and guiding you down.

The gasp he gets is music to his ears, nearly lost to the gutteral, hissed noise he makes himself at the tight, warm squeeze of you around his length. His eyes roll, and he bucks his hips up.

"C'mon sweet thing," he rasps, "don't make me do all the work. Ride for me."

The rhythm is stilted for the way he grips your hips anyways, reluctant to let you pull off of him too much ㅡ but it still feels good. Your breath matches the staccato movement, hands splayed on his chest for balance and head thrown back, looking for all the world like some sort of dedication to a long gone diety that he'd gladly worship to the end.

And he does still, reverence to the way he touches, kisses, bites ㅡ throbbing vitality in your veins calling to him, sweet siren song wrapped in those plush lips of yours. Soft skin squeezed under his fingers, forgiving for all the ways he can't be gentle, desperate as he is.

It's the throttled clamp of your warmth that says you're coming undone, gooey and wet and warm in all the right ways that has him clutching at you, cursing as his hips jerk and he fills you, mouthing at your pulse point as he does.

Heavy breathing sets the undertone of the roll of thunder outside crumbling walls, rapid beat of two hearts, and there's something dangerously soft, romantic in the way he lets you melt into him.

You drape over him, whisper soft kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his mouth until he kisses you back, slowly, selfishly, dangerously sweet.

"You," he tells you, "are absolutely no good for me." He slings an arm over your waist, softens the bite until it's nonexistent.

After all, what's one more vice?

ㅡ

In the morning, the four of you leave ㅡ there's a lot of ground to cover, after all. Lucy walks beside you, Dogmeat and Cooper just a few feet ahead.

"So," she begins conversationally, "what're those marks on your neck from?"

To your credit, you neither flinch nor blush, busy yourself with fussing with something at your hip. "Mosquitos."

Lucy hums. "That's funny, didn't realize mosquitos got so big. Best be careful then, huh?"

[shukein]

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿(𝘀): 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿: 𝗴𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁, 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗷𝗼𝗯, 𝗰𝘂𝗺 𝘀𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗰𝘂𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘀𝘂𝗯 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂(?), 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗻𝘆 & 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 (𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗻 𝗮𝘂), 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟲𝟴𝟴

𝗮 𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗻'

satoru is the kind of man to have no shame in what he does, even after he's married [name], that one part of him has never changed.

he knows how tired [name] has been lately, working tirelessly in the office and coming home absolutely exhausted, but that didn't change how pent up satoru has been feeling.

he felt as if he were being neglected, itching to touch and kiss at [name] skin, to worship their body, to do anything with his spouse really! but he didn't want to disturb them. they've worked so hard, they deserve a break when they get home.

but then again, satoru's just so shameless.

the white haired man would be laid next to their sleeping spouse, staring at their face as his hand fisted his twitching cock. he'd stifle his moans, soft breaths heaving out from him as bucked into his hand.

satoru would shut his eyes tightly, his hand moving faster around his erection. he really wasn't planning on waking his love up, but after countless of wet dreams he's had, and with how long they've actually had sex, he couldn't help but want to let off some steam.

"Mm... fuck," he groans under his breath, his free hand moving to comb his hair back. he was getting close.

"Satoru..." his eyes immediately shot open, staring at [name]'s tired face with wide eyes. did he accidentally wake them up?

"Ah, b-baby...! Why're you awake?" satoru's voice shook, an embarrassed blush coating his cheeks as he reluctantly stopped his movements.

[name]'s gaze would shift down to satoru's 'problem', blinking tiredly before meeting his blue eyes. "Uhm... baby, you should uh... should go back to sleep. You're still tired, yeah?"

satoru stutters, tucking himself back into his sweats as his other hand reaches out to brush a strand hair off [name]'s face.

[name]'s eyes closed for a moment once he felt the man's hand caressing their cheek, a soft sigh escaping them before swiftly moving themself to sit up.

"Baby...?" satoru mumbles, staring up at them in slight confusion. [name] simply moves down the white haired males body, positioning themself in between the mans legs as their hands move up to tug down his sweats.

"Satoru, if you were feeling like this, you could have asked me to help..." they mutter, leaving the man to beneath them to stutter as he protests. "Ah- Honey, it's fine! You've been so tired, I don't wanna bother your rest-"

"Satoru," [name] calls out, staring into the males bright blue eyes. "Let me do this for you, yeah?" "...ok,"

and that soon led to [name]'s lips wrapped snuggly around satoru's cock, their tongue leaving a wet path down the base of his member, causing a soft groan to leave satoru's lips as he tilts his head back.

"Hah... fuck, baby..." satoru moans, one hand moving down to grab a fistful of [name]'s hair, whines and mewls spilling past his lips.

god, did he miss having them like, having their lips wrapped around his cock, having all their attention on him now. he really misses this.

[name]'s tongue teasingly made their way on the underside of his cock, licking at a certain vein that they knew would drive satoru crazy, "Ngh- B-Baby... oh, fuck, I'm close..."

satoru whimpers soon becomes more audible, his back slightly arched off the mattress as he gripped [name]'s hair tighter.

"Oh, fuck! Baby, I'm close, I'm close, I'm close- Ngh! Fuck, fuck, fuck," he moans as [name]'s sucked on his sensitive tip, driving him closer to the edge before-

"Angh!" satoru moans loudly, spilling himself down [name]'s throat as he pants heavily, trying to catch his breath as he shuts his eyes. "Fuckin' hell..."

[name] made sure to swallow every last bit, licking at satoru's now limp cock to clean him off from his cum before sitting up, crawling over the male and giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

"God, you were amazing... thank you, baby," satoru pants, pulling [name] down to hold them in his arms.

"It's no problem, love. If you ever feel this way, just tell me, ok?"

"Ok."

©SHUKEIN. please do not translate or repost any of my work on any other platform, or claim any of it as your own. 2024

[cozymoko]

I seen your anime list and found out you do vampire knight can you do yandere platonic with kuran family? With dimension hopping darling ? She haven't seen the series and just think of them as random cosplayee stuck in snow?

YANDERE PLATONIC KANAME KURAN

Synopsis: Isekai child reader relives a day inside the yandere Kuran household. But thinks it's all a dream.

P.S — sorry if this is all over the place, I started losing my mind mid thing.

Pairing: Kuran family x fem! child reader

Format: Mini scenario, 2nd person

Word count: 1.9k

WARNING(S): Yandere themes

This was not your home.

It couldn't be. 

No, not here. 

You were sitting on a long leather couch, one of many that were placed evenly across the room. A chandelier dangled above you, emitting a soft, golden light upon your seated figure. 

It was clear this was someone else's memory, even so, your ability to move surprised you. 

You started at the warm cup of tea resting in your hands, dazed and bits of fatigue flickering across your expression. Your polished shoes just barely reached the marble flooring which just didn't seem right. 

Instinctively, you take one hand from the cup, examining yourself further. Your hands were small, much smaller than you'd remembered. And so were your legs; short and just barely reaching the floor. Who's goddamn legs were these? 

“[Name], are you alright?” You jumped at the deep, sultry voice, lifting your eyes to meet the concerned gaze of the man towering over you. 

You thanked the gods for it being your mother tongue, but even so, his words proved to be a bit foreign. They weren't exactly modern or anything like the dramas that consumed the media of your world. It reminded you of the nobles that filled the old books back in Tokyo, but even their speech wasn't this strange.

You nod your head, slowly, as though you were unsure. The man didn't look too convinced before he took a seat at your side. His chocolate hair was brushed neatly to the back though just barely passing his ears. He adorned a blue silk button-up with a beige trench coat draped over his broad shoulders. 

He didn't seem convinced. 

“Father, what's the matter? Why're you watching her so closely?”

A lean figure emerged from the shadows as though he was a part of them. He was a replica of the man whom he called "father", but mildly shorter with hair that reached the back of his neck. 

" Kaname," He started, his gaze not once leaving you. "I'm afraid that [Name] may be Ill, it's not like her to just stare off into space like this.“

" I see..."

Am I not here? Can I not speak for myself? 

You parted your lips in hopes of saying your piece, hit alas you were interrupted by the loud patters of feet coming your way. 

A young girl sprinted to your side, successfully beating what you assumed to be her older brother to the couch. She clung to your arm, snuggling into the thick fabric of your sweater. Jovial giggles bubbled in her throat as she held you unbelievably tight. 

“Now, Yuki, if [Name] truly does feel unwell you mustn't smother them.” Kaname scolded, gently tugging the young girl from your side. A deep look of displeasure flashed across his eyes but only for a moment as he reached to adjust your wrinkled clothes. 

Yuki pouted rather childishly, yet her shame was evident in her round eyes. “Sorry big sister! Please don't be upset.”

Upset? You nearly snorted, just what was there to be upset over? It was as though your questions were answered when you met his gaze, laced with envy and slight disappointment.  Oh, so this guy's a jealous one, huh? 

If you had to guess, he'd rather be him bruh in your arms than her.

Pfft, just how old was this guy anyways?

You were hardly given the time to marvel over your thoughts before a decently tall woman emerged from a cracked door to your right.

"My poor baby!” She cried out. “You hardly get sick, what's the matter?”

God damn, did you even have models this beautiful in your world? You doubt it. Her long hair descended her back with a few strands framing her slim face. She reached out and gently touched your cheek, her fingers as light as a feather. 

“Mother I'm fine, I promise.”

The words slipped through your lips before you knew it, almost like second nature as you gently removed the woman's hand from your unnaturally cold skin. 

“May I get some fresh air? Maybe that'll help me.”

The troubled looks on their faces rendered you silent — guilty even. 

Your lips shut as fast as they had opened, your body shifting uncomfortably under their prying eyes. Something about their looks made you feel off, as though they wanted to tear you limb by limb to keep you from escaping. 

“Sorry...” You whispered, wishing desperately to get out of this situation. “I'll just go to sleep early I suppose. Ka...name, can you take me?”

That's right, you didn't know where your room was, and seeing as you were somewhat in control of this body it was much-needed information. That man's name felt bitter on your tongue like forbidden fruit hanging from a sacred tree, you had almost forgotten it, thankfully you had not. 

Nonetheless, he looked more than just a little happy to escort you. Maybe a bit too much for your liking. His eyes glistened in mild admiration and he reminded you of a prince in an eerie sense. 

How fucking old are you anyway? I mean, he hadn't suspected a thing! 

“Follow me closely, you seem to enjoy getting lost in these halls.” He chuckled. 

Welp, that answers your question. 

You tailed him like a lost puppy, just barely standing inches from his feet. You touch your lips, feeling the sharp fang nearly poking from them. So I must be one of them too? What kind of sick joke is this? 

You look up at the concealed back of your "brother", listening to the soft clicks of your shoes as they mingled in the halls. His eyes glanced behind him ever so often to make sure you were still there. And you were sure he noticed you staring. 

So are all of these people into cosplaying? 

“Rest well,” He whispered, his warm breath faintly grazing your forehead before giving it a tender kiss. “You gave us quite the scare.”

Kaname ushered you into the room, not the slightest bit put off by your quietness. You weren't tired, you had just woken up. And yet a wave of fatigue has washed over you like a raging tsunami, your body staggered its way to the shelter mattress almost instinctively before you collapsed. 

The darkness was short-lived. 

Your fatigue is gone. 

Your eyes shoot open, but not as your doing. 

The scene changed. 

Your clothes were different. 

You were drawn to believe you were in another cliche as your clothes had indicated. Still formal with a Victorian touch. You could hardly collect your thoughts before they were (rudely) interrupted once more. 

“My child, please forgive me for I love you dearly...” A voice lamented. 

The woman this body called "mom" had kneeled before you. Her face was saturated in deep rogue, its tempting, metallic aroma wafting at your nose. She trembled, holding you tightly in your arms as though she was afraid to let you go. 

You felt restricted and scared. 

Your breathing was delayed. 

Your heart hammered against your ribcage. 

You wanted out of this situation now and there was no denying it. 

“Mother, w...what are you doing?” That wasn't you, but you were no less curious than the child who said it. 

Her lightly chapped lips made contact with your forehead. A chaste yet tender kiss goodbye to what it seemed to be. She gripped your shoulders in a possessive manner as though she didn't want to let go. 

An aching pain drummed against your head. If not for your mother's presence you were sure you would collapse. It felt like you were being torn limb from limb — bit by bit — piece by piece. Your vision blurred significantly, causing you to lean on her chest. 

Her crazed eyes stared back at you, sad and yet confident. She wished to care for you even after death but she knew it'd be selfish of her. 

“I love you so much.” She smiled. “Even if you don't remember me.”

All you could see is black. 

The warmth is gone. 

You're cold, so terribly cold. 

It was biting. 

And you had begun to feel numb. 

What was happening now? 

Drowning you in a thick blanket of ice. Pale white butterflies descended from above before disappearing in the snow. You would have found them beautiful if not for the circumstances. 

The shitty, unlikely circumstances. 

You hugged your short legs to your chest in a pitiful attempt to regain warmth. You had still inhabited the body of a child. Yet your lack of mobility proved to be a greater nuisance than the cold itself. The jade puffer coat draped over your shoulders had already deemed itself useless.

You were hopeless. 

Lost. 

Confused. 

Scared. 

Hopeless. 

Hopeless. 

Hopeless—! 

Amidst the unforgiving blizzard stood a man. Flecks of snow zipped across your vision so much that you could not see. 

“You smell delicious...“ The man slurred, slowly staggering towards you. “Give me...your blood...”

It hadn't registered at first. You had merely thought he was drunk out of his mind and nothing more. You shook your head, pushing your body further from the deranged man. Another action that wasn't of your doing. 

You involuntarily shivered under his deranged expression. You swore at the circumstances, the feelings you were experiencing. The atmosphere no longer felt light and airy as it did in the manor, you felt more alive. You could practically feel the blood coursing through your veins and it scared you even more than you could've imagined. 

“I said...give me your blood—Ack!”

Right, you'd almost forgotten about him. 

In one blink his body had met the ground. Streams of blood-forming an unruly puddle beneath him. You scoffed; served him right. But fear has swelled within you once more in such unforeseen circumstances. 

Who killed him?

Your strangely heightened senses no longer surprised you as you peer up to greet your savior. His eyes were all too familiar beside the rouge that swam through them. The warm chocolate color was no more as his eyes mimicked the blood dripping at his fingertips. 

“[Name],” The man sighed in great relief. “must you always worry me so much?”

The previous events left your mind hazy and even blurred. As you soon recognized this man to be your brother, Kaname. You run your tongue across your lips, jumping at the absence of the pointed fangs you'd once had. 

“Oh my, you must be terrified right now. My mistake, I didn't want things to happen this way.” He reached out, gently caressing your cheek with his clean hand. His slender fingers felt like needles against your numb skin. 

“If only I'd made it earlier. Perhaps I could have saved you from such unnecessary trauma.”

You snorted. Yeah, maybe. 

“Come now. I'll take you to somewhere safe." He whispered, reaching a hand out to you. “I won't allow anyone to hurt you again.”

You grab his hand, stubby fingers tangled within his own. You despised that warmth it brought you; the solace, the security. But what choice did you have? You were lost with nowhere to go. 

Your "life" had just flashed before your eyes. Those memories were not anyone else's but your own. They were vampires, all of them including yourself. And it was evident that the man immersed in the snow had wanted you dead. 

The pain you experienced with your "mom."

The crazed looks in their eyes. 

The excessive isolation. 

The blood staining his pale fingers. 

It was all too real. 

That's when you realized...

This wasn't a fucking joke.

[bambisnc]

birthday surprise ₊˚.

pairing : taehyun x reader genre : flufffff w a cute wrapping of crack <3 cw/tw : ty panics a lil bit + beomgyu is made to do labour /j + minor swearing + use of caps wc : 783 w (wrote this in one sitting a day before my bio prac hehe) notes : HO LEE SHIT i'm having exams still but ugh how could i not write a lil soemthing for tyun my lil boba eyed bee eff's birfhday 😍🫶 (posting this as soon as it's 00.00 on 5th by my timezone)

when you act super distant with taehyun around a week before his birthday, he’s confused. about your behavior, of course but also his own. he's not like this, he's the rational one, the one with the braincell so why is he overthinking this so much? you're probably just planning something for his special day, he knows that but.. he can't help but feel paranoid.. what if he’s just being conceited in thinking so? what if something's seriously wrong??

then just 3 days before the awaited day you call him up sounding all worried - saying there's an emergency and you have to leave asap and he's left reeling with shock. what do you mean an emergency?? is there a problem at work or at your uni? or worse, did something happen to someone in your family-? he can’t focus at all, practice, meetings with the manager, even his sleep is completely consumed by thoughts of you (though that’s.. not really new~)

and then it's finally the eve of the much, much awaited day. he really wasn't expecting anything, opting instead for an early night. his members were seemingly busy with a "project", which was highly suspicious and should’ve immediately raised alarm, is what he would say if you asked him later and you know, he would've caught onto it right then but busy schedules added to the constant worry about all the upcoming events and ofc you had dulled his senses considerably

but at 11.51 sharp, as if on cue, he hears his shrill ringtone from where it is kept next to his bed. it's beomgyu.

“taehyun, dude”, he says, “there's um,.. an issue. uh, yeah no it's a huge problem. we need everyone in the practice room like right now.” by now of course, taehyun did feel pretty sure of the fact that his members had something planned.. i mean “an issue at the practice room”? c'mon that was a classic, he'd literally used that same line on yeonjun's birthday last year. he’s about to let beomgyu know of this but then he hears their manager in the background.. shit okay, maybe there's actually something wrong? briefly affirming that he’ll be there, he haphazardly dresses and makes his way to the practice room...

...only to find the room dark, as he opens the door and walks in, extremely wary of his surroundings. making his way to the light switches he soon discovers emptiness. the room was completely empty. what the fuck.

he honestly felt so dazed, he couldn't help but just sit himself on the couch, somewhere between wondering if this was a dream and if not wondering why his members chose to inflict such weird pranks (?) upon him. he remains there for a good 45 ish minutes before he hears the unmistakable sound of footsteps and people, whispering in a way that was not quiet at all.

"shit why're the lights already on??" "oh yeah i called taehyun and told him to come down!!" "what. beomgyu we haven't set up anything. the cake is literally in my hands right now. you're literally holding the decorations??" "oh. huh." "gyu holy shit how could you not know????" "I SWEAR TO GOD." "guys shut up we can still salvage this if we just-"

and taehyun finds himself face to face with a shocked huening kai, an extremely guilty-looking beomgyu, you with so much disappointment adorning your face that one would think this was your surprise party being ruined and rather furious looking soobin and yeonjun.

i'm sure you can picture how the rest of the "surprise" party went. taehyun making some colorful, weirdly specific yet affectionate threats to everyone, you especially - having him worrying over nothing for a whole week, how could you?! he discovers that their manager had been persuaded by all of you to record a little audio clip you could play over call, just to make taehyun a little extra worried and a little less suspicious. well. at least, that definitely worked out huh?

but later when he has his arm around you as you cut the cake into delicate slices and beomgyu attempts to decorate the whole room single handedly, as was chosen to be his punishment, with the rest of his members, offering birthday wishes, sharing past anecdotes of various such mishaps (and it is undoubtable that there were a lot), laughing and playing about, he can't help but think maybe he prefers this more than he would a "perfect" surprise.

next year though, as he tells each of you multiple times, he'd rather it not be a surprise at all. with a smile that quite clearly said that it was very much not up for debate.

[check out my m.list for more <3]

[pokkomi]

✦ morning memories - nagi seishiro

cw: gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, 0.8k wc

"—mmmh..."

nagi seishiro woke up to the noise of you making breakfast.

today was a sunday. a very sunny sunday, with the rays of light leaking through the curtains and shining on nagi's face. the harsh hues of the sun earned a disapproved grunt from nagi as he rolled over, expecting to wrap his arms around your figure. but you were not there. he lazily opened his eyes and reached over to the alarm clock.

6:13 am, it read.

confused as to why you were up so early on a sunday, he groggily waddled to the kitchen to look for you.

and there you were, standing over the countertop, sizzling bacon in a pan, the savoury aroma unfurling in the air.

"love,"

"morning sei, i thought you were going to sleep a little longer,"

nagi wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his head on your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. "can we go back to sleep, it's sunday, mm?" he mumbled, not fully awake yet. you smiled and turned your head slightly to kiss him on the cheek, "not yet, sei, i have to finish making breakfast,"

"please?" he squeezes you a little, "why're you making bacon so early in the morning anyway~?"

"mm, i got hungry." you slid the bacon onto a plate and set it on the cutting board. "do you want me to make you something too?"

nagi blinked, and pondered for a bit. "can i have some lemon tea?"

you grinned, "of course, sei," you wrapped your arms around his neck and kiss his nose, tiptoed. "why don't you wait on the couch for a bit, mm?" you directed him towards your shared living space and sat him on the couch.

"be right back, 'kay?" you beamed.

nagi sighed audibly for you to hear as he reluctantly plopped down on the couch, although you can tell from the lightest hue of pink on his ears that he isn't upset.

as you rummaged through the fridge looking for ingredients, nagi began to drift back to sleep...

...

"hey, do you like anyone right now?"

nagi was caught off guard by reo's sudden question. "boo, you just made me lose my combo." he glowered and tossed his phone on the bed. reo raised an eyebrow, "you've been...acting weird recently." he walked over to nagi's manga collection and picked one from the shelves and sat down beside nagi.

"i don't like anyone," nagi retorted. "why?"

"no reason. but what if someone confesses to you?" reo seemed to enjoy whatever was happening in the book. nagi shrugged and laid his head on the bed, "little chances of that happening. besides, i don't really care for that stuff."

"really? well, i guess you'll meet your person someday."

"i said i don't care for that stuff, i'd rather just play soccer with you, reo"

"nagi,"

"sei—"

"hey, seishiro!"

nagi's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name. you were crouching beside him, face close to his. "mmh, did i fall asleep?" he yawned. you giggled and pecked his forehead, "yep, you really are sleepy huh? lemon tea's on the counter, unless you wanna sleep some more~"

still reminiscing about his dream, your words blurred at his ears. he slowly sat up and snuggled into your shoulder, "i wanna go to bed with you," he mumbled. you can't help but redden at his words. although it's been more than 2 years into your relationship, nagi still manages to catch you off guard quite often. you smooth his hair out; his white locks were flying everywhere. "mhm, of course, love." you smiled into his neck, feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

without another thought, nagi stood up and lifted you into his arms, earning a surprised ack! from you. "w-wait, sei!" you huffed, "what about the lemon tea? you said you wanted it—" "but i want you more," nagi said, cutting you off, "and i want you now."

nagi tossed you on your shared bed and climbs behind you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a cuddle. he throws an additional leg over you. it was weirdly comfortable.

"y'know, i had a dream when i was napping" he murmured. you shifted yourself so you could face him, his half-lidded eyes gazing into yours. "what was the dream?" you asked, wondering how he possibly mustered up a dream in a 5-minute nap.

"i forgot"

"really, sei?"

he kissed you on your nose, "i think it was about you, though"

"it must've been a good dream then," you snickered.

nagi muttered something in response, but you were already pudding in his arms, melting away at the gentle tune of his voice.

he would never admit it to you, but nagi's glad you stepped into his world of boredom. getting himself into a relationship wasn't something he's ever thought about; someone like him doesn't see the whole ordeal as something necessary in his life. however, meeting you and every moment spent with you birthed memories that he holds close to his heart.

[yanyanderes]

The yandere self aware concept is so appealing to me

The guy's falling inlove with the person in another universe? Yes, that's amazing. But, when they're yandere? That's some good shit

Imagine Donnie is desperate for reader to be with them, to the point he builds a machine that's supposed to be impossible to build cause of all the multiverse stuff but hey, he IS in a cartoon world so it isn't that impossible

The reader's so confused when they get transported into the rottmnt world, trying to process the scenerio happening to them while the guy's are so happy to actually meet you! They can protect them properly now :)

Reader getting isolated in the guy's home isn't a far fetched idea. If it guarantees reader's safety, why not?

Hey, why're you trying to leave? We're keeping you safe here!

oooh man, this one’s an old one sent back in october.

sorry it took so long! didn’t have any ideas at the time, so i kinda let this sit in my drafts and forgot to get back to it-

but anyways, this one’s a long one, so i put it under the cut.

“…it actually…!”

“i know… genius… thank me later…”

“…alright? ….been unconscious for…”

“i’m sure… soon.”

the voices all blend together. they all seem so familiar… yet (y/n) isn’t able to pinpoint who they belong to, or where they’ve heard them from, especially when their ears are still ringing.

they groan, their head throbbing in agony. what… happened? one moment, they were watching some cartoons on their laptop, and then…

they manage to pry their eyes open, only to shield them again when a bright light practically blinds them.

the ringing doesn’t stop, but it dies down, allowing (y/n) to hear the voices more clearly. they crane their head to the side and see four figures. three stand off to the side, talking amongst themselves, while the fourth is right next to their aching figure.

as their vision clears, they can’t help but think… are they hallucinating? did they have a concussion? there’s no way this is actually happening…

the figure closest to them seems to finally realize they’ve woken up, judging by the way they call out to the others.

“guys! they’re awake!”

(y/n) tries to sit up, yet the moment they do, they clutch their head in agony, a yell escaping their throat as they curl into a ball.

“hey, hey, take it easy.“

a hand rubs circles on their back. the speaker’s voice sounded so concerned for their well-being… hang on. they know that voice- in fact, they know all their voices!

“it’s you-! ah!”

(y/n) turns their head quickly. maybe a bit too quickly, since the pain quickly gets worse and they clutch their head yet again.

“i just told you to take it easy! here, lay back down.”

large yet gentle hands rest on their shoulders, ushering them to rest. even so, (y/n) stays upright.

“i- i know you! i know all of you! you’re- no, there’s no way…”

do their eyes deceive them? the fuzziness in their eyes slowly dissipates, and-

no. no, they don’t. these are in fact four talking mutant turtles standing in front of them.

“there’s no way, no way! i’m dreaming, aren’t i?”

“no, this is no dream, we are all very much real.”

“but- you’re from a tv show! this- this is so weird.”

“you think that’s weird?! imagine being us! we’re just minding our business, testing out mystic weapons, when all of a sudden we hear cheering!”

what?

“not gonna lie, it was kinda creepy at first, but-“

“but you were so sweet, we couldn’t help but love it!”

mikey wraps his arms around (y/n) and pulls them into a hug, the sudden motion making them woozy yet again.

“you called us cool, you cried when we cried, you cheered us on!”

“you- you heard all that??”

“of course we did! and can i just say, you were absolutely adorable while you were gushing over us.”

it takes a moment for (y/n) to process all this information.

they wake up on a table with a throbbing headache… in one of their favorite cartoons… and now they’re being told the characters were watching them as well.

this is kinda cool, but mostly… really freaky. especially with the way they’re acting with them.

“i- um- thanks?”

(y/n) is admittedly really nervous talking to them face-to-face, especially after learning they had been listening to everything they said about them.

“i’m- it’s a pleasure to meet you, but… how am i here?”

“oh, you have me to thank for that! you see, with me being the genius i am, i managed to construct a machine that could transport you from your dimension into ours!”

he what.

“you… what?!”

“i know! incredible, isn’t it?”

“there’s a way to go back, right?”

“you wanna leave already?”

mikey’s excitement quickly dies hearing (y/n)’s words. he releases them from a hug, and they can see the panicked, almost frantic look in his eyes.

“i mean, it’s really nice meeting you all, i just… have a lot of business to catch up on in my world, and i’d like to get back as soon as possible.”

“but- but- there’s so much we still have to do!”

“and you said you loved us, didn’t you? every time you showed up, you’d be all over us!”

“i know, i just-“

their eyes dart to donnie, hoping he would butt in to help their case. donnie and leo give a quick glance at each other, with leo giving donnie a small nod.

“of course. we understand, pulling you from your dimension and forcing you into ours was wrong, and we apologize. we’ll get to work immediately to rectify our mistake.”

(y/n) lets out a relieved sigh, happy to hear they would be going home soon. though, was it just them, or was donnie acting a bit… off?

they had little time to think on it when mikey’s grip on them returns, this time nearly crushing their ribs.

“donnie, what’re you doing?! they can’t leave yet! raph, tell them they can’t leave yet!”

(y/n)’s gaze flickers over to donnie, who was currently working with the machine that had brought them there. however, they can’t help but worry for the strange noises that emit from the machine…

raph is quick to distract them by stepping in the way, blocking donnie from their field of vision. no matter how they crane their neck, raph seems determined to stay in their sights.

“before you go, why don’t you rest a bit? donnie said something about headaches, are you alright? need me to get you anything? drinks? food? pillows?”

“you can have all the drinks, food, and pillows you want if you stay!”

“but i can’t, i have a life to live! family to take care of, friends to visit, a home to go back to-!”

“this can be your new home!”

the desperation in mikey’s voice only gets more noticeable as he talks more and more.

“we’ll love you, we’ll take care of you! you won’t have to worry about visiting anyone! we’ll give you everything you want!”

by this point, (y/n) had started struggling to get out of mikey’s death grip. what is up with these guys?? they never acted like this in the show!

“i already told you, i can’t-!”

BOOM

they’re interrupted by an explosion off to the side. no. no, this isn’t happening. raph steps out of the way and, to (y/n)’s horror, reveals the completely obliterated machinery that was supposed to bring them home.

“oh dear! it looks like my invention has spontaneously combusted! what in the world could have caused such an unfortunate event?”

(y/n)’s knows that tone of voice. the almost robotic way of speaking donnie uses only when he’s trying to lie. he did this on purpose.

“ahh, such a shame.”

leo doesn’t even try to hide his lack of concern, given his relaxed- almost pleased- expression, and the way he wraps an arm around (y/n)’s shoulders.

“how long will it take to fix that thing?”

“if we’re lucky, perhaps a year.”

those monsters.

“oh well. hey, don’t worry about it! you’ll love it here!”

liars.

“we’ve been getting ready for this day for weeks! we’ve got a room just for you, with all your favorite snacks, and a bunch of games and movies we think you’ll enjoy!”

psychopaths.

“don’t worry, (y/n)! we’ll take care of you. we promise.”

‘take me home’.

didn’t know how to end this-

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Shall I Count the Ways: XLVII

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: You and Spencer are best friends. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you, but neither of you know it nor decide to tell the other about their feelings. All the love is there, just hidden in the things you say and the things you do with one another.

Series Masterlist

A/N: ...hi. i know it's been a while but i'm back on my criminal minds/spencer reid shit. so i'm going to FINALLY finish this series!

47. "You've rendered me speechless."

You sigh over the phone, "I don't think this is a good idea, Spencer. Cat Adams-"

"I know, I know. But this'll be the last time I deal with her. After this, she can't hurt me or anyone ever again. This is the last time."

"If you're sure."

"I am. In the meantime, keep your phone on you at all times just in case I need to get a hold of you ASAP. You never know what Cat will try to pull."

"Alright. Be safe."

"Always," Spencer ends the call, pocketing his phone, and entering the interrogation room.

_______________________

Spencer was getting impatient. He was tired of Cat's games but he knew had to do this. He knew that he was the only one that could beat her in the end. So he had to play the game.

Which led him to here and now. He's fervently kissing Cat Adams against his apartment door when the door swings open...to reveal you.

Your heart immediately drops to your stomach. This has to be a dream. Spencer wouldn't do this to you. He'd never-

"Why're you here?"

"You texted me to meet you here," you pull up your phone to show him the text. But he didn't text you that all.

"I didn't send that," he looks back at Cat, "Why did you bring her here?"

"To chat. Obviously, I want talk to your girlfriend here," and glances back at Spencer, "about you." The woman gives a dark chuckle, "I'm Cat. The woman that Spencer can't seem to stop thinking about," her hand rakes up his arm and he pulls away. She rolls her eyes and looks back at you, "She's a little cutie."

"What do you need to tell me about Spencer that I don't already know? We've known each other for decades."

"Yeah?" Cat smirks and tilts her head at you, "Did you know he likes to throw women against a wall and threaten to kill them?"

"That-No. I-"

"Tell the story, Spencey. Don't skip out on the details." Cat plops into one of Spencer's chairs and watches with a maniacal grin on her face.

"Cat was pregnant at the time and I knew that and-"

"The next day, I miscarried," she stands, placing her hands over her belly.

"Wh-What? That's not true," Spencer looks at her in disbelief.

"It is. Check my medical records."

"Why am I here?" you ask, pacing around Spencer's living room, "Whatever sick bullshit the two of you have going on, I don't want any part of it!"

Cat playfully pouts at you, "Aw honey. You had a part in it as soon as you started dating."

You sit at the couch and look up at her, "Why?"

"To show you he's not the person you think he is. You may have known him for over a decade, but you don't really know him. Not like me."

You look down at your lap, hands clasped together tightly and knee starting to bounce. Spencer knows this happens when you get anxious and his heart clenches at the situation he's pulled you in.

"Maybe you're right. I-Honestly, I never understood how he ended up with me when there's other women, smarter women out there for him. I-I can't compare."

Spencer immediately sits by your side, "No, don't-don't say that."

You look up at him with teary eyes, "No matter what I do, Spencer. I don't think I'll ever be good enough for you. And Cat's right. I guess I don't really know you like I thought I did." you stand up and grab your things, "We're done."

You run out of his apartment and Spencer tries to you, but Cat steps in front of him with a big smile on her face, "I win."

_______________________

You're back at the BAU waiting for Spencer. He steps off the elevator dejectedly and you immediately wrap your arms around him.

"Wh-What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry!"

Spencer looks around at his colleagues, "What's going on?"

"We figured out that it wasn't a coincidence that Cat decided to do all this as soon as you and Y/N started dating. So we brought Y/N and let her know our plan."

He looks at you in disbelief, "You've rendered me speechless. I thought-"

You shake your head, "I told you, Speedy, I won't let anything break us apart."

His arms around you tighten, "I thought I really lost you."

You softly smile up at him, "I'm here to stay, Spence," you lean in and peck his lips, and it makes everyone around him smile.

[sports-on-sundays]

boulevard of broken dreams / LN4 / Part 2

Summary: After meeting a savior, there's still a lot of mess to clean up.

Warnings: drunk, partying, stranger touching reader, use of the nickname 'Lan' for Lando because I think it's cute ok?!, hangover

Requested?: Yes. Thank you for the suggestion, @rorabelle15

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who enjoyed part 1! Here's a part 2, if you're interested. And if after that you're interested, I'd be willing to write a part 3, in which things kind of get bad again, but of course with a happy ending. Here's the link to part 1:

Sometimes, the sunshine that appeared, found you, and is helping you pick up all your pieces, leaves.

Sometimes you stumble back to where you were.

And the guilt is worse, because you know your sunshine wouldn't ever want you to go back there again.

Your head is thumping in sync with the beat to the party music. There's a bit of wine dribbled down your collar, but you don't remember how it got there, and frankly, you couldn't care less. All that matters is swaying to the music, letting go of everything, and having the night of your life, that won't feel so fun when you wake up with a hangover and a guilty conscience in the morning.

There's a man with tan skin, messy slicked back brown hair, and striking eyes, and he's got his hands all over you. You feel a twinge of fear deep down, but you're sure to brush that off as quick as you can.

It's all good. We're just having fun.

His hands caress all over your body, and before you know it, his lips are leaving imprints on your neck that you'll definitely regret tomorrow when you're sober again.

But for now, you giggle and let him do what he wants with you.

And once he's finished with you, he leaves you and moves onto someone else.

And you flop on a stool at the counter. You dig into your Coach purse, fish out the final bit of your cash, and demand another drink. After receiving it, you chug it down, then stagger up to head back out on the dance floor.

But you bump into the last person you want to see here, right now.

Not because you don't like him. No. It's the exact opposite.

It's because you love him. And he loves you.

And Lando can't be seeing you here, like this.

Damn it.

You watch as Lando's eyes practically pop out of his head. He grips your arm, and pulls you away from the dance floor, against a wall. He stares at you, his mouth hanging open.

"Heeeyyyy... Lan... Lan..." you hiccup. "Why're you here?"

He shakes his head. There's that look in his eyes. He's disappointed.

In you.

His hand moves up, and brushes some strands of hair away from your face. "I was just going out for a drink with friends... How many have you had, Y/n...?"

You swallow. Everything's warped and weird. "I... I dunno. Why don't you... have a drink? Maybe we could dance together...?"

"Oh, Y/n, no. No, no. Not a chance. I'm bringing you home now."

You bite your lip, protesting, "No... Lando, I don't want to... I don't want to go home..."

But he pulls you to his side, and leads you to the door, through all the people. And there's not much you can do to resist his strong arm in your intoxicated state.

It feels like it's just you and him, and it feels terrible.

"I don't want to leave, Lando," you wail as he opens his car door.

"Well, that's a shame," Lando says through gritted teeth, "because we are going home."

And that's that. He drives you home, gripping the wheel all the way, and when you get home, he leads you to the bathroom. He wets a paper towel and begins wiping the smeared mascara and lipstick from your face. As he does this, you stare at his brown eyes. They look hard, and upset. Your eyebrows furrow, and some not-so-good emotions of concern and guilt flood you.

But then Lando sighs. His hand drags across your cheek, and he mutters, "You can shower tomorrow morning. You need to sleep. Stay here. I'll get you some clothes to sleep in, and then you should go to bed."

"Here?" you ask, looking up at Lando with googly eyes.

"Yes, here," he grunts. "You can sleep in my bed. But I don't feel like sleeping with you; I'll sleep on the couch."

Before you can respond, he walks out of the room to fetch you a change of clothes. When he comes back, he tosses the clothes to you, shuts the bathroom door behind himself, and you change into a light pink t-shirt and blue plaid pajama pants. They're a little big on you, so you tie the drawstrings tight and stumble out of the bathroom, calling, "Uh, Lan?"

Just like that, he's there. He grabs your wrist gently and brings you to his bedroom. You climb into his bed slowly, and he pulls the blanket up to your chin for you. He smooths it out, before walking across the room to the door. He flicks the light off, so you can only see his silhouette in the doorway as he murmurs with an exhausted sigh, "Good night, Y/n."

You watch as the door begins to shut.

A little fire goes up within you, and you say, "Wait, Lando."

The door stops moving. It slowly creaks open again. You stare at his dark figure, hesitate, and then stumble out, "I... Thank you, Lan. I... I love you. You're my sunshine."

Lando takes a few steps closer, so you can see him a little better. "Did you say I'm your sunshine?" he asks gently.

You nod slowly, looking up at him. You hold your hand out to him. He steps closer, and he takes it in his. Your hand is a little shaky, but Lando's grip is firm.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

He squeezes your hand. "It's okay," he whispers. His thumb runs over the back of your hand. "I forgive you, Y/n. And I love you, too."

You nod.

He gives your hand another squeeze before letting it go, gently. He softly removes some hair on your forehead, before muttering, "Good night, Y/n." He walks to the door, watches you for a few moments, and finally the door slowly creaks closed again, with a soft click.

"Good night, Lan."

In the morning, you lay in Lando's bed for a while, awake, just staring up at the ceiling, tears slowly and silently falling from your eyes.

Finally, though, you slip out of the bed, wipe your cheeks, and pad over to the door, feeling like there's an extreme weight on your skull, causing it to pulse. You slowly pull the door open, peek into the hall, and call, "Lan- Lando?"

There's a few seconds of silence, before you hear his voice call, "Coming!" And soon enough, he's walking into the hallway, and towards you. He's wearing a hoodie, grey sweatpants, and a necklace around his neck.

It's clear he's already showered and gotten ready, which prompts you to ask nervously, "What time is it?"

Lando hesitates, before saying, "10:30 A.M." When he sees the distress in your eyes, he quickly adds, "Hey, but don't worry. You needed that sleep."

"Don't you have plans today? I'm sorry if I'm keeping you from your plans-"

"Shush. No, I don't have any plans. Don't worry. Now, would you like to take a bath?"

You hesitate, but then nod. Lando nods as well and says, "I'll fill up the bathtub for you."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he responds in a level tone. "Go undress in my room. There's a clean towel draped over my chair you can use."

"O- Okay..." you respond, before going to do just that.

In the mirror in his room, you look at yourself. You look at the marks that stranger left on your neck last night. You sigh, dismayed, and feel anger rise up within you as you touch them gently with your fingers, despite knowing it is completely your fault for putting yourself in such situations.

So you wrap yourself in the towel and walk back to the bathroom. It smells like sweet vanilla, and the tub is full and bubbly. You wonder where the scent came from, but don't ask. Lando stands up from the side of the tub and says, quickly leaving, "I'll leave you to it. Call if you need anything."

So you step into the warm water, let yourself sink into it, and relax. The warmth and the scent seems to calm your deepening guilt and slow down your rushing thoughts.

You sigh, contented.

When you finish, you begin draining the tub, before wrapping yourself in the towel again and calling, "Lando?"

"Yeah?" you hear his voice ask back from the other room.

"Uh- What clothes can I wear...?"

"Oh, sh*t," you hear him say to himself, before saying, "Sorry, I forgot! I'll get you a change."

You wait, and soon there's a knock on the door. You open it a crack for him to hand clothes to you through the door, which consist of a loose long sleeve black shirt, fuzzy socks, and comfy sweatpants. When you exit the bathroom and enter the living room, your hair wrapped up in the towel, Lando looks up from his phone and softly smiles, "You look nice and comfy," he comments.

"Thanks," you smile weakly.

He pats the spot next to him, slipping his phone in the pocket of his black hoodie. "Come on. Why don't you sit down next to me?"

You nod and walk over, doing just that. Lando wraps his arm around you. You swallow, feeling a little awkward, and mutter, "That bath- it was really nice and relaxing. Made me feel a lot better."

"Good," he smiles, pleased with this information. There's a few seconds of silence, before he says hesitantly, gently rubbing your shoulder, "Well, what happened? Why did you do it?"

You swallow. "I don't know, Lando... I guess I just... When you're gone at races or back at your home in Monaco... I miss you... a lot..."

His hand freezes on your shoulder. "That's why? Because you missed me?"

"Yeah, well, pretty much. And when you're here, I'm happy. But when you're not, all the stress comes back... I'm sorry, Lando... I'm sorry I'm so clingy... I just... I'm sorry I annoy you... I don't know why you haven't given up on me yet, like everyone else..."

"Hey, stop that," he says firmly, grabbing your hand. "Haven't I already forgiven you? And the only time I get annoyed at you is when you hurt yourself. Because I love you. You're so important to me. I don't want to see you in pain. But I'll never, ever give up on you. It takes patience, Y/n... You just need time to heal, and that's why I'm here to help you with that."

You sigh and nod slowly.

He sighs as well and says, "I wish there was some way to always have you by my side..."

"Lando, I feel so needy..." you confess softly.

But he responds earnestly, "But that's okay. It's okay to need other people. It's been months since we met, and we're becoming better and better friends. To the point where I do love you. But Y/n, this isn't a one-way street."

"What do you mean?" you ask, looking up, meeting his eyes.

"I think sometimes I need you, too. You don't try, but you're like a refuge to me. You get my mind off all my stress, too. I like spending time with you, and you always listen to whatever I need to say."

Your eyes begin to water slightly. "Really?"

"Of course!" he nods earnestly.

You stare, and sniff. You wipe your eyes before leaning in and hugging him. He hugs you back as you say, "Thank you, Lando... That's the nicest thing anybody has said to me in years... You're so special to me."

He grins. "You're even special-er to me!"

You smile softly through your tears and whisper, "You're my sunshine."

He grins even wider, and leans away to wipe your tears. "Do you know, I love that nickname? Well maybe you're my lovely moonlight."

To you and your dark world, sunshine is all you need. You don't understand how sunshine would need moonlight. How does that even work?

But you trust your sunshine. So if he said it, it must be.

Lando gives you a few months, and you're getting better. Things are getting better. And your relationship is getting...

Very close.

One day, you're sitting together, snuggled on the coach, each respectively doing important things on your phones, when Lando suddenly sets down his and says, "I've got a few important things to talk about with you."

Your eyebrows immediately crease together, and a pit threatens to form in your stomach. "Oh no."

But Lando grins. "Jesus, don't look so worried! It's nothing bad."

"You said it like you were about to tell me you're moving across the world and I'm never going to see you again or something!" you half-heartedly complain.

But Lando smiles, amused at this, and ruffles your hair, "Do you worry I would ever do that?"

"I don't know... Maybe..."

He shakes his head. "You worry about too many silly things. No. The first thing I want to talk about with you is your job."

You blink in surprise. "Why my job?"

"Because you hate it, and it one of the things that makes you most miserable, and I hate it when you're even the slightest bit not happy." Your heart warms at this from Lando as he continues, "So, I think you ought to quit your job."

But you snort ruefully. "Oh, yeah, and then what? Go and become a race car driver? You've only taken me karting once."

"No..." he trails off, seeming to know what he wants to say, but unsure of how to say it. Finally he sighs and says, "I make a lot. If you came and lived with me..."

Your eyes pop out of your head. "You mean your smaller place here in the U.K., right?"

He hesitates, before a sheepish smile appears on his face. "No, I mean Monaco."

"How the hell am I going to repay you?!"

"That's the point. Your happiness, and getting to be with me all the time, is the payment. I get you, you get my house and food for free, without having to work."

"You're insane!" you gasp, covering your mouth at how ridiculously dead serious he really is about this.

But he grins. "I know. So, will you do it or not, missy?"

"Oh, Lando, shut up!" you laugh.

"Well?"

You smile falteringly and respond, "I'll think on that."

You stand in Lando's flat. You only had a few things to bring with you, and you're already all unpacked, and feeling a bad, unsure, nervous feeling within you. Lando's hand from behind plants itself on your shoulder, and as soon as you feel this touch from him, you turn and hug him. He seems surprised, but hugs you back. You sigh. "I just don't know about this, Lando."

"Hey, you're still worrying about it? Come on. It will be an adventure, living someplace new. And you don't have to worry about anything. Because you know I'll take care of you..."

"I still feel bad..."

"Don't. This isn't a hard thing for me. I want this. And I can take care of you. I want you to be happy. Find your thing, you know? And I know you will. I know you're not a lazy person- how hard you've worked for so long is proof of that. And I know you've felt trapped for so many years. Now I'm giving you the opportunity to branch out. See and try new things! Make the most of life! It's an adventure, after all. Maybe the opportunity of the dreams you had as a kid are past, but there's still a lot you can do. You're not even twenty-five yet. Come on. Brighten up. Just think of all the dreams you still can fulfill."

It's your first Grand Prix, in Silverstone. Lando has already shown you around, but you've been keeping close by his side the whole time, since the crowds are a little hard for you. But you love them. You love the luxurious, intense, rich atmosphere.

You even got to meet some of the other drivers on the grid.

But now you sit in the McLaren garage, by yourself, since Lando had to go off to do something. You tap your foot, nervous, feeling like you're just about going insane if you have to sit here a second longer, when suddenly you feel a presence in front of you and look up to see Oscar Piastri.

"Hey," he smiles. "So, are you Lando's girlfriend, or...?"

You immediately feel yourself heat up at this, and at first, you hesitate, not knowing the correct answer, before you blurt, "Oh, no, of course not! We're, uh, roommates."

Oscar nods at this, a smile coming on his face. "Oh, alright," is the response with slight doubt, before he adds awkwardly, "Well, enjoy the race..." and walks off.

And you do enjoy the race.

But after the race, it's all kind of a whirlwind. People are everywhere, and it's busy, and everyone is determined to do or go to one thing or place or another, and you're kind of just caught up in it.

So in the end, you're disappointed that you don't get to see Lando standing on the podium.

You sit in the garage, staring down at your feet, kind of in a daze, when suddenly the familiar sunny voice exclaims, "Y/n!"

Your head snaps up, and you stand up. Just seeing Lando's shining, bright grin is enough to melt your sadness away. He steps toward you. You open your mouth to speak, but suddenly-

You can't.

Because your sunshine's warm, soft lips are on yours. And his gentle hands wrap around your waist, hugging it. He pulls your frozen, confused, shocked self closer to himself. He leans down, and you lean up, connected.

Within seconds, he pulls away, looking down at you. Your head and heart are pounding. You're sweating. Lando's eyes are shining as a mutters, "This was the perfect race for you to come to."

"Lando..." you gasp. "What was that?"

"A kiss, darling. Because I love you," He gently touches his nose to yours. "And I think it is about time we take this to the next level."

"Oh- Oh..."

"Are you okay with that?"

You hesitate, but then nod. "Y- Yeah... You're everything I've... ever wanted... But... why me?"

"What do you mean, 'why me?' You're still thinking in those terms?" Suddenly he cups your cheeks in his hands. "I'll tell you why. You think I'm your savior, and you think you need me. You've told me you need me. You just told me I'm everything you've ever wanted. But don't you understand, that this goes both ways? I need you. You're everything I've ever wanted, and that's just you being you."

You stare up at him, awestruck, in wonder.

And he pulls you into a tight, sweet, warm embrace. He rubs your back and whispers in your ear, "Okay, cutie?"

You nod, and feel a real, lovely, warm smile creep up on you. "As long as you never stop being my sunshine."

[toujokaname]

Game master / Episode 6

Author: Akira

Characters: Aira, Hiiro, Takashi

"Hiro-kun, did you shrink...?"

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Season: Winter

Location: Secluded Village

About an hour later. At the entrance of the accommodation prepared for ALKALOID in the Amagi Village.

Aira: (Sigh... I feel kinda nauseous for some reason.)

(We were just having a nice dinner, but Rinne-senpai had to drop that heavy stuff on us.)

(Now my head's pounding and my stomach feels heavy.)

(Maybe it's the aftermath of those laxatives from the third match. My gut's grumbling.)

Aira: (But.... Maybe I should've thought about it properly, instead of brushing it off as Rinne-senpai's usual nonsense.)

(We're currently in the middle of an "overarching trend.")

(No... All along, right from the start, we've been pawns on ES's chessboard, in their efforts to change this world.)

(Aware of that, what are we going to do?)

(Will we continue to follow orders obediently as before, or will we rebel like Crazy:B?)

(We have to think this through. If we just go with the flow, we'll end up taking a nosedive straight to the bottom of the waterfall.)

Aira: (But... Uuu... After all, it's beyond what a commoner like me can handle.)

(There's no use mulling it over it alone.)

(I wanted to wander around and observe a bit, but maybe I should head back to the room and pick Tattsun-senpai and Mayo-san's brains about it—get the opinions of smart people.)

(I've been doing that a lot lately.)

(Just a little while ago, I was an underachiever who couldn't get anywhere, but somehow I've managed to stand proud as an idol because of that.)

(Even if I think about it alone, it's probably just gonna lead to a big screw-up anyway.)

???: —What's wrong?

Aira: Hm? Oh, it's no biggie, really ♪

I sorted it out on my own, no need for you to worry about it, Hiro-kun—

???: Really? You look pale, so I'm worried.

Aira: .........

...Eh, w-what?

???: What's wrong?

Aira: Hiro-kun, did you shrink...?

???: Even if it looks like that, I've been growing a little taller lately?

Though I am tiny compared to Nii-san.

Aira: No, wait... Eh, what's this? A dream? Am I having some kind of mystical backward village experience?

Hiiro: What's wrong, Aira?

I got worried when you didn't come back for a while.

It's best not to roam around too much. The villagers won't cause trouble since we're guests, but—

My hometown has always been closed off, resistant to other cultures and tourists. That's why it reacts negatively to outsiders who try to mix with it.

It fears outsiders and, in some cases, attempts to get rid of them.

So, if you don't want to get involved in strange troubles, at least stay close to me.

I'll protect you, Aira.

Aira: No, I think I'm already involved in trouble...?

Hiiro: What do you mean? Come to think of it, you've seemed unwell since the meal, Aira.

Maybe the cuisine from my hometown didn't agree with your constitution?

???: Ah, it's Hiiro-sama. Good da... good evening?

Hiiro: Umu. It's a tricky hour, so it's hard to greet properly.

Aira: No no, why're you having a normal conversation?

Who is this boy? Someone you know, Hiro-kun? He looks like he could be your twin, is he a relative or something?

Hiiro: No, I don't know this child?

It's strange... This is a small community, so I thought I knew most of the people in my hometown, but...?

Who are you? Where are you from? Where are your father and mother?

???: Ah, um, nice to meet you.

Takashi: My name is Takashi.

Hiiro: Takashi-kun. What characters do you use for your name?

Takashi: The "天" from Amagi (天城), read as Takashi.

Hiiro: Hmm, that's an unusual name for our village. The name Amagi indicates a monarch, so it would be disrespectful to use the same kanji.

Could it be that you're from somewhere else? It looks like Akan-san and Anzu-san, who got stuck in traffic earlier, have finally arrived—

Did you come with them? Could you be a child of the staff?

Aira: Oh, come on, isn't he way too similar to you, Hiro-kun? You're acting like nothing's wrong, but don't you have any suspicions?

Hiiro: What truly matters isn't your appearance, but your inner self, your character... Don't you think?

But now that you mention it, he does look a lot like me.

Hiiro: Ah... Aira! Could it be that you gave birth to my child?

Aira: What do you mean "could it be"? I've been suspicious for a while, but haven't the Amagi people received a proper sex education?

We haven't done anything to make a kid, and two men can't possibly have a baby together, now can they?!

Hiiro: Why are you upset...? You always get like this, Aira. Did I say something strange again?

Takashi: Ah, they're calling for me.

Apologies. I'll be taking my leave, Hiiro-sama.

Hiiro: Ah, wai... He's gone. What was that all about?

Aira: He addressed you using "sama," so he's probably someone from the Amagi Village. You and your family are the most respected here, right, Hiro-kun?

Hiiro: Umu. Surprisingly, you're very observant of others, Aira!

Aira: Ugh, what do you take me for?

Hiiro: But, like I said earlier, I don't recognize him... He looked just like me when I was a child, but I'm here now.

I think he's a complete stranger. Still, he looked too much like me.

What's going on? I have this uneasy feeling in my chest...

[ ☆ ]

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[phanfictioncatalogue]

Third Person POV Masterlist

A million little suns (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan is just trying to get as far away from his home town as possible at Christmas when he gets stuck in a snow storm. He's rescued by an enigmatic stranger who take him back to his cabin in the mountains. What Dan doesn't know is that his rescuer is prolific, best-selling writer of erotica, Ricky Blitz. Will Dan end up with a porn-worthy situation all of his own? (hint: yes)

An Insomniac’s Daydream (ao3) - Young_Rouge_Rose

Summary: Dan Howell is an insomniac, a pianist, and possibly a modern day Nostradamus, as his twisted dreams seem to be pointing towards the destruction of the world. When plagued with such dreams he does what any sane and natural human being would. He gives up sleep.

No sleep. No dreams. No end.

Phil Lester is a humble barista who feels like a daydream and somehow manages to keep the monsters, which come with such twisted dreams at bay.

But there is more to it than meets the eye, for the past always has a way of catching up with you.

This has happened before, but it can't happen again.

angel boy (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: the one where angel!Dan goes into a demon club looking for a bit of entertainment.

baby, you put a spell on me (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're fun to look at. Obviously."

~~~

Magic is common in Phil's world. But even spells and potions can't explain his seemingly supernatural affeciton for his roommate...

Bahamas and Butterbeer (ao3) - fourthingsandawizard

Summary: Tired of hiding his magic from his Muggle viewers at Playlist Live, Dan decides to take a spontaneous trip and tweet about it, much to Phil's exasperation.

black butterflies and deja vu (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Once upon a time...there was a little boy, his name was- well, that’s not important. There was a little boy, and he didn’t have lots of friends.

But don’t worry, this isn’t a sad story, even though it sounds like it, I promise.

🌸 cherry blossom 🌸 (ao3) - natigail

Summary: It had been a silly dream at first. The idea to have a cherry blossom tree in their garden they didn't even have yet. It hadn't felt like it was something that would really happen.

But it was real. Dan was watching their tree, Phil's arms around him, and hoping they would get to see its first bloom soon.

Colours from an Achromatic's Eyes (ao3) - impicciche

Summary: Dan is colourblind. He has been his entire life, but that changes when he meets his internet friend for the first time and suddenly he can only see the colour of his eyes.

Consolation Prize (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: "No, the whole being stood up thing is just about manageable, if he can avoid bursting into tears when he asks for the cheque. What really pisses him off is when he’s half-an-hour into sitting alone, all the breadsticks in the free bread basket gone and Dan’s on his third tap water and his first vodka, his heart just has to fall for the next cute guy he sees sitting at the opposite table, because apparently he’s still fourteen years old and horny and desperate and Christ, those eyes can’t actually be real."

or, the one where dan & phil drink a lot of cocktails and start a two-person lonely hearts club.

Counting Stars - definitelythor

Summary: Phil bunks off school and smokes too much, and Dan's a bit infatuated with him. It doesn't take long to figure out that Phil's just a dorky guy who likes stars and wants people to think hes cool

dan is not a pianist (ao3) - Marranje

Summary: How Phil went from watching the pianist and youtuber Dan from afar to being by his side through the most important moments of their lives.

easy for you to say (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: Phil tries to convince Dan to throw away the grey shirt. Dan can’t do it.

Eternity of Sex - wishicouldunreadthat

Summary: Dan is taken down to Hell, where he meets his owner, a Lust Demon named Phil. And fuck - the sex is wild.

every kiss is a cursive line (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: Iydlmp Dan and Phil through the months of trials and tribulations it takes to plan a wedding… and the wedding itself. (Sort of)

Everyone knows that (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: They fight more often than they don’t, but that’s just how relationships are. Everyone knows that.

Phil bakes when he’s worried, especially when he's worried about Dan. And Phil bakes quite a lot. Dan hates that he's the cause of Phil's nervous baking, that Phil's always so stressed because of him, but Dan has a hard time feeling too bad when the outcome is a plate of warm cookies.

i feel a kick down in my soul (ao3) - chickenfree

Summary: “I’m going to obliterate you,” he says, taking a few long steps towards Phil.

Phil runs. It takes him a minute to realize the ball is in the opposite direction.

Is There Somewhere - phanticizing

Summary: 2012! dan and phil try to fix broken ties

Nobody, Not Even the Rain - botanistlester

Summary: Dan is fine. It's what he's told himself all along. Even though it hurts when he has sex with his boyfriend, even though he shakes for no reason at all; he's fine. He's happy. But when he meets Phil, he learns about respect, trust, and how a relationship is truly supposed to be like. Most of all, he learns that maybe he's not doing so well after all.

now onto the future (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: It’s become something of a game, Dan and Phil chasing each other through time.

Paper Stars - botanistlester

Summary: Dan starts to get love notes in his locker in the form of origami stars, so he gets the help of his best friend, Phil, to figure out who it is.

Properly (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Dan's been trying to take advantage of the all-hours pool for a late night swim, but some guy always shows up before him.

Stay (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Dan was mesmerized by the cute guy with the flowers he saw on the tube. Was it a bit much to search for him time and time again after that? maybe, but sometimes working hard for something works out in the end.

Strawberry Lube and Blueberry Muffins - lame-wangji

Summary: The one where Dan and Phil have sex for the first time and they are v cute.

The Infinite Possibility of Us (ao3) - Young_Rouge_Rose

Summary: It began as all good stories do, with an inciting incident. Dan's just so happened to be almost getting hit by a car, watching a man die before his eyes and somehow falling into a web of alternate realities. Just your usual morning inconvenience. He just wanted a coffee, and to make Phil happy. Now all he wants is to get back home, back to his world, his life, his Phil. Little does he know Phil has found himself in a similar predicament, and what is stranger still is that in all other worlds they seem to be together. Maybe this is the universe trying to tell them something.

The Traces We Leave - lesteresce

Summary: AU where Dan is working in a café for uni and Phil is a customer with paint splattered arms who takes his coffee with an unnecessary amount of sugar.

To Dwell on Dreams (ao3) - carltzmann

Summary: "Taking in the whole image, though, it hardly hurt. Watching this perfect version of himself smile and wave and talk to his friends, bathing in success and appreciation, Dan suddenly started to believe that maybe all that was possible, even with the confirmation of a terrifying secret."

Dan and Phil meet at the Mirror of Erised.

Weight on my Shoulders (ao3) - ByTheFire

Summary: When Phil starts getting some unexpected gifts from his dad he starts to worry if he knows something he is not ready to share. Thankfully Dan is there to make it all a bit less scary. All Phil can hope is his dad doesn't want to change who he truly is.

What Happens When You Don't Take a Chance (ao3) - rowan_e

Summary: Phil can’t sleep lately, and the only explanation was the useless romantic feelings he’d developed for his roommate and best friend, Dan Howell...

Now that Phil knows what happens when you don’t take the chance, he realizes that lesson wasn’t meant for him

words don't come so easily (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: When Dan agrees to be a celebrity guest on a reality show for artists, his only aim is to raise his profile a little and appease his agent.

That is, until he meets the artists who'll be painting his portrait, and one in particular catches his eye...

Yellow Curtains (ao3) - omgdatphantho

Summary: Dan feels like an outsider looking in; an alien in his own skin. He’s starting to question his sexuality and that’s made more complicated by meeting Phil. Nothing worth having comes easy; especially love.

you look so good it hurts (in my favorite t-shirt) (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: Phil is gifted with a "Mega Dilf" shirt. Guess who picked that shirt out?

[weebnotheree]

TBHK x M!R CH8. || Anothe assistant

You know how sometimes you keep losing things for no reason? That's because Yousei is trying to play games with you. 

¨no way¨

¨dont tell me you lost something again, that's been happening a lot better hope it's not yousei or you could end up dead¨

¨huh¨

They say that if you see yousei and look directly at it, it will take your life. However, [handful of candy] ¨Here¨¨candy?¨¨yeah carry some pieces around in your pocket if your suffering from a yousei attack, candy distracts it so it'll forget all about stealing your things and wont want to kill you¨

¨For real? I've never heard that before.¨

¨good luck, I gotta go now¨ Shiro said waving at them.

¨club meetings? Your so busy lately..¨

¨I'm going to visit a friend.¨[giggles]

¨huh?! In the girls' bathroom?!¨Σ(▼□▼メ) they both said.

¨she's so weird¨

¨ωєєє¨five of the are Mokke are seen sliding down the rail of the stairs with candy in their hand that M/n gave to them. They were happily walking when they suddenly bumped into someone. The first one fell back and dropped his candy and then the others did. ¨hey runts. Where are they?¨ They look up at him. ¨im looking for your buddies Hanako and m/n.¨ They huddled together [scared noises]¨ωнσ'ѕ тнαт?¨

[Whoosh! 💨] 

They all ran off leaving their candy behind. ¨wait come back! (౦ ‸ ౦ ;)¨ ??? said reaching out to them sweatdropping. ¨whatever that's fine ill just track them down myself (¬_¬).  . .when I find Hanako and m/n that will be the end, time to exercise! AHAHAHAhhahahah¨ he said with determination. ¨Whats with him?¨ a guy said.

¨he's a bit crazy¨ a girl said.

¨yeah, just keep away from him¨  another girl said.

'Mokke'

M/n, Hanako, and Yashiro(imma call her Shiro) are reading this fairytale book. M/n is in the middle, Hana is holding the left side of the book and Shiro is holding the other. 

[Sighs] ¨I wish a hot guy would fall out of the sky for me that way.¨(ﾉ︶ヮ︶) She said happy sighing? while me and Hana blinked twice (• -• )and said ¨seriously?¨

¨No not seriously. I know the difference between reality and fiction thank you. But I'm working as an assistant and subordinate to ghosts so yeah sometimes I wonder about those kinds of experiences.¨

¨what experiences?¨ Hana asked and I agreed nodding my head wanting to know too.

¨so many but like in this movie, for example,{A gorgeous young girl is held captive by an evil spirit. And just when she starts to lose hope, a man falls from the sky and rescues her.[Heya]}He skillfully strips the spirit from his powers. Then he and the girl are free to fall in love.¨ 

¨was Hana just exercised in that daydream¨(0^0) I questioned. ¨You have a dangerous mind¨

(•.•)Hana said while taking the book from Shiro.  ¨whats more [grabs her chin] dreams like that are useless. [Leans in closer to her] You still got me ann m/n here after all.~¨ M/n made jealous noises and puffed-up face (//￢>c￢//)until-

[Bang of a foot being stumped]

¨Thats enough! Don't you dare harm her evil spirits.¨ he said pointing his golden staff at Hana and me. Hanna let her go and goes 'huh', I stopped what I was doing. We all looked at who it was. It was a boy with yellow golden hair and blue eyes on top of the roof on the balcony where we were. He then proceeded and jumped down landing.

¨Im from Kamome Academy junior high. 3rd year¨'A boy from the sky!'(人//✧▽✧//)｡o○♡[Hot guy- ¨Nene come to me¨]¨Im Kuo Minamoto, in case they ask you how you're finally sent to the underworld. Hehehehehe¨ [nene]groans as her dream disappears. All of our faces - (-.-)(￢ヘ￢)(o^o)I started chuckling and my hair slowly turned white 'huh..?' Kuo thought. 

My chuckle then came to a laugh. They all stared at me.

 ¨Why're you laughing at?! Σ(▼□▼╬)¨ Kuo said. 

I tried to calm down and held my stomach. Then I opened my eyes and they were red¨You think you're stronger than us¨ I said pointing at him. ¨Just go ahead and try it¨ I finished and he gripped his staff.

(•ヮ•) [Hana gasping]

¨M/n calm down¨ ｡ﾟ(p~q)ﾟ｡ Shiro said panicking trying to calm me down. ¨Here, have some candy¨She said giving me candy making me immediately calm down. My hair slowly went back to black and my eyes went back to teal blue. I started eating the candy squatting down beside Shiro then she said¨wait a sec, do you guys know him Hanako?¨

¨I don't know about Kichō but we never actually met in person. But I know who he is he's from the Minamoto Clan.¨ Hana said grinning.

¨what does that mean?¨ Shiro says rubbing my locks. 

¨Back when the skies were deeper and darker than they are now, apparitions were called yokai and we were much more powerful than we are today. That was until yokai were dispelled by a brilliant exorcist called Minamoto no Yorimitsu. He was an ancestor of this kid.¨Hana explained. ¨So you know your stuff huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised.[points staff at hanako] You should be trembling at the very mention of my name. And now, its time to do my duty as a member of the Minamoto Clan.¨  

[nene gasps]

¨Hope your ready¨ He jumps in the air, lifting his hands along with the staff. My eyes widen, I was about to get up and stop him from hitting Hana but then¨Hana..¨He hits Hana on the left shoulder. . .It had no effect on him. (•-•)

¨exercise me? And do you honestly expect to pull that off¨Hana said gripping his staff. / ¨uh yeah¨

[⚡⚡TzzZZzzzZz!!⚡⚡] ¨Huh¨ Hana 'shocked' face.

¨HANA!!¨ 

♡♡ I Hope you enjoyed! Bye mini dumplings!  ♡♡

[luveline]

your boy who is a friend, peter | part three | tasm!peter parker x reader

"Teach me how to do it the way you like it," he insists.

"I like it this way," you say, and you're pleading now. "Kiss me, please. Plea-" your begging gets cut off as he dips down, touching his mouth to yours softly.

"Where do you want my hands?" he asks, the words sending little vibrations into your lips.

<3

summary you visit your pen pal Peter’s home for the week and he sets about defining the relationship between you [5.3k] warnings fluff, smut (heavy petting), some hurt/comfort, idiots in love, long distance relationship meeting up, peter is besotted and a flirt, fem!reader, she/her used for reader, NSFW CONTENT, 18+ please

read part one | two here

<3

The third morning of your stay with the Parker's dawns, identical to the second and yet completely changed. Same shower, staring at the tiles Peter must see every morning, same smiley face breakfast, same wet hair. But burning under everything - every word, every look, every breath - is a wanting.

Because Peter Parker had kissed you. Tasting like sweetness and hands soft as a silk, he'd kissed you. Scandalised you, if he was to be believed.

He kissed you silly and swayed you on tingling footing to the sounds of his crackling record player and the noise of the streets, car horns and shouting and people. You'd barely noticed. All you'd heard was his inhales, his exhales, his hand as it brushed over the skin of your face. The sound his lips had made when they touched yours, the breathy moan at the back of his throat when you pushed your fingers into his hair and tugged.

A second difference - he's busy. He has a class you insist he can't miss so you spend the morning playing bridge with Aunt May. She doesn't take offense to your distraction, though she does take advantage of it.

"You're cleaning me out," you bemoan her.

She smiles smugly, the expression at ends with everything you know about her. Your fingers itch to draw her. When you finish (and immeasurably lose), you retrieve your sketchbook from your bag and try your best to recreate the smirk she'd worn with graphite.

May empties the washing machine at a leisurely pace and doesn't flinch at your dirty clothes, folding them in preparation to hang up outside. You sketch, using her face as a reference to guide you as you edit her features from the peaceful contentedness she has written in her smile now to the wicked gleam you'd bore witness to beforehand. You laugh to yourself silently when she comes alive, downturned eyebrows and a devilish mirth spreading over your paper. Despite a lack of shared blood she looks a lot like Peter when she's grinning so connivingly.

You blush at this thought and your pencil lead snaps. In horror, you release your white-knuckled grasp on your pencil as you set it down. It's a drawing you think you'll keep, for once, a memory.

Peter comes home not long after while May makes good use of the fine weather, pinning clothes outside.

He sits down in the chair opposite you, smiling like a college student never should - uninhibited, positively gleeful.

"Why're you so happy?" you ask, pretending to fix up the sketch of May to avoid his eyes.

"I half convinced myself you were a dream on the way home. But you're still here."

You smile despite yourself and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Will I be subjected to all this- this…" you blush and trail off.

"Flirting?" he supplies, smiling with shiny white teeth. "Absolutely."

You ignore the twinging in your tummy and flip to a clean page.

"My turn?" he asks excitedly.

"Can you stay still for that long?" you ask, skeptical of his ability to behave.

"You're kidding! I'll be a statue," he promises.

You meet his eyes for the first time since his homecoming and melt a little, feeling like a small square of butter on a tall stack of pancakes. His warmth was unavoidable. Sick of pretending you don't have the world's biggest crush on him you give him an earnest, adoring smile, looking at him from under your lashes.

He reaches his hand towards yours and your smile changes, vindicated. "I knew you couldn't sit still."

"How's that fair? You look at me like that and, and expect no reaction? That's sick."

You giggle like a fool in love and turn to your page, cutting swooping, light lines to mark out his silhouette before going in with a refined hand, starting with his distinguished nose, then his dark eyes. You render the planes of his face with a biased hand and find him staring back at you both in real life and your book  eyes flitting between them as your heart rate climbs.

By the time you've finished you're too shy to show him. You shut the sketchbook and act as though it's awful, when in reality you think it might be the best thing you've ever drawn.

"What? Come on, bub, let me see-" he says, reaching for the soft leather cover in your hands.

You pull it back from his radius and shake your head. "It's awful, Peter. I'll draw you something else after dinner."

"Oh, after dinner? Why don't I believe you?" he asks, standing to try his luck again and reach forward with quick hands.

You push your chair back and feel your heart skip as he stills.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he asks, grinning.

"Like you're going to- No! No! No, oh my god!" you shout, shocked as he suddenly rounds the table.

You throw yourself from the chair and make a mistake too early in the game, moving deeper into the kitchen. You realise too late that you would've been more successful if you'd made for the stairs, finding yourself cornered where the countertops meet, holding the sketchbook behind your back as Peter closes in.

"Don't come any closer," you warn dramatically, trying to look formidable.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll ruin the whole thing!" you yell, thrusting the book towards a sink of soaking pots.

He stops where he is. "Don't do that."

"Or what?" you throw his words back at him.

His eyebrows pinch playfully. "Trust me. This isn't a game you'll end up winning."

And why did that make your knees weak? You felt heat rush to your face but stood your ground, tilting your head up in defiance.

"I have better odds," you say, the sketchbook still held aloft.

"I don't think you do," he says, taking a step forward.

You put the book an inch closer to its possible demise and watch as steam caresses the soft cover.

"Why so nervous?" he teases.

"Stay away from me, you menace."

"Menace!" Another step closer.

You edge the book closer, its corner a millimetre from kissing the sink basin.

"I've got quick reflexes, sweetheart. Very quick," he says.

"Oh yeah? You're also the only one with skin in the game. The sketchbook means nothing to me. Don't think I won't do it!"

He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

"I don't doubt you would. But seriously," he drives the knife in deeper, teasing for teasings sake, "think about how this is going to end for you."

"I think it'll end with my-" victory, you were going to say, but he sees an opening and springs towards you on lithe feet.

You lose your grip on the book and he catches it like he knew down to the millisecond when you were going to startle. Then he smirks, puts the sketchbook safely on the countertop behind you, and sets his lips on yours. You gasp into his mouth as his hands come up, one pushing the soft pads of his fingertips into the bottom of your throat and the other settling gently over the hill of your cheek.

You're frozen with surprise for a moment. He laughs, a sweet and awful thing, and the sound prompts you into kissing back. You spread your hands across his broad chest like the opening of a birdwing butterfly before chasing up the stretch of his sternum, threading your fingers in his hair, anchoring him to you as his mouth opens yours.

It's a quick kiss and already enough to make your brain short circuit. You pull away to take a breath. He runs his hand up over your throat until both are stationed in twin positions on your cheeks, tenderly pushing the hair he's mussed away from your face. His hands are so big they could cover your mouth if he touched the heels of them together, and the thought infects you with a need to kiss his palm, just once.

He leans his forehead against yours. You watch him close his eyes tightly, watch as he takes a deep breath. The washing machine whirs, the tap drips. The rubber toes of his shoes are too close for comfort, almost treading on your socks.

It feels natural to go on tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck at that moment. They cross in the space between his shoulder blades. He, slowly, reluctantly moves his hands from your face and you miss them sorely as they wrap around your back, completing your tight hug and holding you up.

You drink in long seconds of closeness and talk into the material covering his shoulder. "You smell really good."

"You smell like me," he returns, arms squeezing a hair's width tighter as he speaks.

"Do I?"

"Undeniably."

"Well, I've been sleeping in your bed."

"And wearing my clothes."

You smile into his skin, buzzing with happiness. You lean against him in a bubble of warmth until he squeezes you tight and pushes you away with a regretful groan.

"What?" you ask him, perplexed by the way he's looking at you. Unlike his usual self, this Peter is truly unreadable. You can't tell if he wants to kiss you again or if he wants to pitch himself off a skyscraper. "What's that face mean?"

"Means you're beautiful," he says lightly, hands roving over your arms.

You're not sure he knows he's doing it. He gazes at your face with a devout look in his eyes and raises his hand to cup your cheek.

You lean into his touch, eyes wide.

"You're beautiful, too," you say quietly.

His lips quirk into a familiar smile. "We're a good pair, then."

"We should go for Prom King and Queen," you jest.

His eyes light up at your joke. "We'd win in a landslide."

"Did you go to prom?" you ask him. His thumb sweeps semi circles over your cheek, summoning a wave of goosebumps.

"Sure. Didn't win Prom King, but that's 'cos I didn't have you there to persuade them."

"I'm your spokesperson, then?"

"You're my longest stroke of luck," he corrects softly, the words you'd written him months ago. The humour in his tone has been subjected to an upheaval, completely replaced by tenderness, floating between you both, tearing you open.

The skin under his fingers feels bruised.

You hide from the emotion in his expression lest you tear up, tucking your face in the curve of his neck, arms wrapping around his back in a second hug. He covers the back of your head with his forearms as he reciprocates and presses his lips into the top of your head soundlessly, a chaste kiss.

"I'm the lucky one," you mouth. Even though he likely doesn't hear you, you think maybe his arms tighten just a little bit more around you at your admission.

-

"Did you go to prom?" he asks you a little later, elbow deep in pasta dough.

He's got flour dusted over his cheek, his top lip and his forehead. You neglect to tell him this, legs kicking gently where you're perched on the countertop.

You're not interested in talking about prom. You shift the sketchbook in your lap and decide it's no good, there's no way you'll get the complexity of his idiosyncrasies down on paper when he talks so fast and shuffles through so many expressions — annoyance when the yolks break prematurely, light pleasure when the yolks and flour begin to merge, pride when a tight, yellowy dough forms.

He wipes the side of his face with the back of his arm and you rejoice as the flour spreads like dandelion seeds.

You tuck your pencil between the pages and jump down off the counter. He opens his mouth to inquire.

"I'm gonna go get my camera," you say.

"Okay." He's already turning back to the dough. You're hard-pressed to tear your eyes from his biceps as he kneads the pasta vigorously. "Don't get lost."

You don't get lost. When you return, camera in hand, he's entirely casual. You've no inkling of suspicion until you notice white fingerprints on your sketchbook.

When he looks up at you finally he's half-guilty, half-enamored, eyes practically heart shaped.

"You sicko," you complain, setting your camera down. "Do you have no regard for any personal boundaries?"

He frowns then, the beginnings of an apology on his tongue.

You jump to soothe him. "It's fine: I'm not mad. Quit looking like you stepped on my tail."

"I'm sorry. I just- you're amazing. Really,"  he apologises anyway.

You sigh and step into his space, wiping the flour from his face with tentative fingertips. His eyelashes kiss the soft skin of his undereye as they shutter closed.

You take his temporary blindness as an opportunity, pressing your lips to the newly cleaned skin of his cheek to leave behind a lip balm print. His eyes jump open as you set your heels back down on the ground, browned honey simmering in his irises.

"It's okay. You're forgiven," you say, much too gentle for the situation.

He looks flustered as he turns back to the dough. "Of course I'm forgiven. I have the best puppy eyes. Look up puppy dog eyes in the dictionary and it's a picture of me," he says, voice higher than usual.

"Uh-huh. I believe you." You take the camera into your hands.

"Really?" he asks, still attending to his pasta dough. "Cos you sounded a little skeptical, and- Oh. Do you mind? I'm covered in flour."

You drop the camera from your eye level and grin. "I don't mind at all."

He rolls his eyes. "Okay, hotshot. I'm serious, though, you'll have to put that down. I need your lovely hands."

You take another shot of him mid 'lovely' and revel in the permanent evidence of his affection as the photo loads. He looks all golden and homespun in the warm late afternoon light, head inclined like he's telling a secret, mouth in a half moon smile as he forms the v-sound.

You look up from the monitor and find him in a similarly inviting pose, though he's closer now. "You'll have to hold the dough. Or you can turn the handle, if you want to," he offers, eyes wide and kind. You want to kiss each eyelid.

You wash your hands as he rolls the dough into a sheet. The pasta maker is old and sturdy, worn gold plating and a dark green body. You hold the sheet of pasta in place as he turns the handle with one hand and catches the lines of noodles with the other. Soon, you have enough fresh pasta to feed the three of you with some to spare, and he looks proud as he drops it into boiling, salted water.

"This is nice. The first meal we've made together," he says as you stir the pan where the beginnings of your sauce cooks. You smile though you could cry and he bumps his hip into your side. "We didn't even burn it. Go us."

"Don't jinx it, Peter," you warn him, brandishing your wooden spoon at his chest.

"Watch where you point that thing."

A contagious laugh bubbles out of you. Even to yourself you sound egregiously adoring.

"Your laugh… Letters never would've been enough. I can't believe I missed out on your laugh for two whole years," Peter says.

"I don't–" You bite your lip, stir the pan. He waits patiently for you to continue. "I don't laugh that much, really. So you wouldn't have missed much." You attempt a lightness and end up sounding strangled.

"Alright," he says agreeably, pushing a flyaway from your forehead with his index finger. "The opportunity to make you laugh, then."

"I laugh at your letters," you tell him honestly, setting the wooden spoon down on the counter to turn to him, hungry as a stray dog for his attention.

"I didn't get to hear that, though."

"I see. It's only fun to make me laugh if you get to hear it."

"Must you twist my words?"

"No, no, I'm not twisting. You said-"

"I know what I said!" he interrupts snarkily.

You fiddle with the knob underneath the stove top and turn the pasta sauce down, cheeks aching from the force of your smile. Peter picks out a noodle and throws it at the wall. You both cheer when it sticks. He tips a spoonful of pasta water into the sauce and you stir it in as he drains the noodles. You cringe at his method, a small plate held to the top of the pot.

"You don't own a colander?" you ask.

"No, we do," he says.

You think you're just about getting used to his flippant attitude until he scalds himself with steam and drops the plate into the sink. He rescues the pasta but his fingertips are ruined, red and shiny in seconds.

You rush to take the pot handle from him and almost burn yourself in your hurry, grabbing his wrist to force his hand under the cold water. You hold him there with both hands, though you don't think he's going to try and escape, smoothing the skin of his hands with your thumbs in what you hope is a soothing manner.

"Peter..." you murmur in disbelief.

He doesn't say anything. When you look up into his face he looks guilty. "What?" you ask.

"It's almost worth losing my fingers to have you taking care of me," he says. He's joking, obviously, he won't lose any appendages anytime soon, but his confession has you dizzy. You push your thumb into the meat of his palm and analyse the burns. He has four in total; one on his marriage finger, one on his middle finger, a first on the tip and a second stretching down the length of his index finger.

"Do they sting?" you ask.

"Enthusiastically," he says seriously, pulling his hand away from yours. He looks them over with his own eyes and then smiles at you mischievously. "Kiss ‘em better?" he asks.

The dizziness increases. You laugh him off and retrieve the pasta to finish draining the water with more caution than he'd bothered to employ and then drop the noodles into the sauce, all while Peter watches and blows on his fingers.

"Hold them back under the water," you plead.

"That makes them hurt worse."

"It draws the heat out.

"I think that's an old wives tale."

"You're an old wives tale."

"And you're the height of maturity, babe."

You pull garlic bread from the oven and plate out the pasta. Peter retrieves Aunt May from the living room, at first reluctant and then impressed by the spread.

May says an awfully heartfelt thank you afterwards and holds your cheek in her hand. You fight back messy tears the whole time. You're not sure you've ever been so stupid happy.

-

Peter thinks you're adorable.

You usually are, but right now is definitely a new peak. You're heavy lidded, lying on the sofa with your calves in his lap, hands pushed under your face while you watch TV. His eyes keep straying to the slip of skin exposed where your shirt has ridden up, a silver of skin, the hint of your hip.

His hand smooths slow, long lines up your calf.

"Pasta hit you hard, huh?" he asks.

"I'm fine," you murmur.

"You're food coma-ing."

"A little. Sorry," you admit, looking at him over the hill of your shoulder bashfully.

He shakes his hand. Your leg is warm under his touch. "Don't be."

You stare at him for a long moment. He tries not to wither under it. With a soft look in your eyes you sit up, hair ruffled from lying down. He wants to smooth it down but you're already vying for his hand, pulling it into your lap. You turn it over and push your fingertips into the skin just beneath where the burn, already faded, starts, careful enough to make his chest ache.

"I can't believe you did this."

"It wasn't on purpose."

Your legs are thrown over his lap, effectively trapping him. He can't find it in him to mind, especially when you bring his hand up to your mouth and kiss the tips of his fingers.

"You know," you say, looking at them again, "I could've swore your burns were much worse than this."

"I think your mind played tricks on you," he says, feeling very guilty.

"Me too," you say, threading your fingers in the gaps of his. "At least I can do this without hurting you."

"I don't think you could hurt me, burned or not."

"No, I don't think I could."

He reaches out to smooth down your hair. Your eyes close.

"What movie are we gonna watch?" you ask, looking at him through your lashes.

"Can't you choose? I hate deciding."

"That's such a typical boyfriend… thing," you finish weakly. "Sorry."

"Is that true?" he asks, beaming. "What's a boyfriend thing? To be indecisive?"

You look pointedly at his shoulder. "To make… to make the girlfriend choose. Not that you're my boyfriend. Sorry."

He picks his words very carefully when he speaks next. "Do you think of me as your boyfriend?"

"No, of course not. Sorry. I'm sorry, I just… well." You go to take your hand from his and he latches on tighter. "You know, in high school, my friends always complained that their boyfriend's made them pick and then they'd. Be at a crossroads. Of sorts."

He feels bad for putting you through it but he wants to ask the right way.

"So if I was your boyfriend," he starts, hand hovering just in front of your face. You look at him as his fingertips guide your chin up and forces you to meet his eyes. "I'd have to be the decision maker?"

"No, I mean. I like making decisions. Okay," you correct yourself at his skeptical expression, "I don't. I hate making decisions. But if you wanted me to, I would."

"Yeah?" he asks smugly.

You clock on and fall flat on your back, away from him. "You're horrible," you say to his ceiling. You bring your hands up to cover your face. "You're so mean."

He hikes up on his knees and begins the short crawl toward you, one leg sliding between yours. He kneels, pulling your hands from your face as he leans over you, your faces parallel. You look scared.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" he asks, voice quiet. "No more unnecessary words at the end of letters. Please? You'll be saving me loads of money," he loads up on the humour, hoping to ease the unease in your expression, "bics are costing me a fortune."

"You wanna be my boyfriend?" you ask.

He smiles at you, crooked, one side higher than the other, as he puts your hands down near his waist. You hold onto his sides as he playfully caresses your arms.

"Desperately," he says, not quite kidding. "I know it won't be easy. Actually, I know it's gonna be really, really hard. I know that. But I honestly can't see it going a different way, for us."

You stare at him. He loses his nerve, realises he's cornered you.

"I mean, it can. If you don't want this, I understand why."

You frown. "I want this."

"You do?"

"I like you," you say, your hands tightening on his waist.

"Can I get that in writing?"

"You're really handsome. And lovely, caring and thoughtful and smart."

He squeezes your skin where his hands are circled around your elbows. "But?" he asks, hearing the hesitation in your voice.

"You could have any girl you want."

"I want you."

You toy with the hem of his shirt. "I don't get why."

"Sweetheart," he says, word chased with a nervous laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, Peter."

"What? Please, explain it to me, why wouldn't I want you? You're so, so, so beautiful, and you're sweet, and you're brilliant and you're kind. All the nice things you see in me I see in you." He trails a hand up and rests it over your heart, spreading his fingers wide. "You have the prettiest voice I've ever heard and the laugh to match, and I don't care how weird or silly you think you are," he says with a tenacity, hand moving to your face. "I don't care. I want you."

You blink at him. He feels quickly embarrassed as the silence stretches.

"I don't think I'll be enough," you admit. He's upset you, he realises in horror, your voice all strung out and your eyes glossy.

"You are," he says gently. "You are. You're enough. You're more than enough."

A lazy tear escapes your eyelashes, carves a slow line down your skin. He wipes it away.

"Don’t cry, baby. Everything's okay. I promise, it's okay."

"I really like you," you say, chest rising with a cruel sigh.

"I like you, too," he says.

You bite your lip as another tear wells, falls, seeping into your hairline.

"You wanna be my boyfriend?" you ask again.

The awful pit in his stomach eases as you smile and catch his forearms in your hands. He can feel every brush of every fingertip, can hear the happy edge to your rugged inhales.

"Yes," he says, the word barely out as you wrap your arms around his sides and bring him down on top of you, face over his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around you in turn and breathes you in indulgently.

"On one condition," he says, weary of your trembling chest.

"What condition?"

"Will you try to calm down?" he implores into the side of your head. "You're way too pretty for all these tears."

You pull him closer until there's no more room. He presses his lips to your face. The room fills with the sound of your laughter as he mouths a line of tiny kisses along your cheekbone, holding the back of your head so you can't escape. You don't want to, giggling as the last of your tears ebbs, worse when his other hand finds the skin of your hip. He pulls away for confirmation and you give a small nod.

His hand explores the soft skin of your tummy and side before he cups the curve of your waist, tentative, fingers skipping over goosebumps. His lips are tingling, little tiny pinpricks of heat and a floating feeling of pleasure when you relax beneath him. He wipes the lingering dampness of your tears with the back of his hand, careful as he collects the wetness from your eyelashes.

He knows he should say something here. Whatever it is, you can feel it, he thinks, because your expression grows impossibly softer and prettier and lighter, you're a beam of light in the dark room, your kiss a ray of sun as he dives back in.

-

Peter Parker has his hand under your shirt. And he's your boyfriend.

You're surprised you can still breathe.

His kiss is saccharine sweet, honey smooth and just as cloying. All you can feel is his touch, his big hand pressed over your ribs, his lips slotted against yours and his nose bumping your nose as he moves.

Every part of your body is warm. Your fingers are loose where they rest against the line of his neck.

His lips shine with your spit as he pulls away.

"Is this okay? Do you like it?"

You nod and move upwards searchingly for his mouth. He chuckles but evades, rubbing your face, placating you.

"Come on, pretty girl, you have to talk to me."

"I like it," you insist, again pushing up.

"But what do you like?"

"Is it complicated? I like when you kiss me."

"Teach me how to do it the way you like it," he insists.

"I like it this way," you say, and you're pleading now. "Kiss me, please. Plea-" your begging gets cut off as he dips down, touching his mouth to yours softly.

"Where do you want my hands?" he asks, the words sending little vibrations into your lips.

You suck in a ragged breath. "Higher," you whisper.

His fingers brush the bottom of your bra. "Here?"

"Higher," you repeat, lifting your chin. You kiss him fervently over his bottom lip as a wave of chills ripples over your body as his hand settles over your chest.

He's charmingly careful as he massages your breast through that last layer of fabric. You reach down to pull your shirt up over your chest, rumpled at your collarbone, to cover his hand with your own. He breaks your kiss to look, soft brown hair pushed into your chin.

You drag his hand against your bra, move it up an inch, then two. Then you drop your hand and let him do the rest, holding your breath as he pushes the tight fabric off of your tits.

You can't see his face as he touches you, vision all filled up by the top of his head, but you have a pretty good idea of how he's feeling by the way he touches you, careful but not shy, fingers brushing over your chest. The pad of his thumb rubs against your nipple in little circles that send tight bolts of pleasure deep into your abdomen.

"So pretty," he murmurs. You throw your head back and take a deep breath. He looks up at you and grins like he's been given the winning lottery numbers. "You know how pretty you are?"

"Pete," you whisper.

His mouth finds your throat. He kisses down, down, sucking the skin between his teeth in little bruising nips. Your hands find his hair and you wriggle, legs shifting to combat the heat growing in your centre as he works your skin. He skips over the bunched up fabric of your – his – shirt, plants a firm kiss in the valley of your chest and follows it down like a river, half moons of contact, shimmering. He kisses the swell of your breast and your fingers push deeper into the soft waves of his hair in response, a short pant of air escaping you, and then his lips are around the bead of your nipple.

He worships your chest until you're heaving with the force of your breaths. His hands hold you still. You whine as he sucks and twists and swirls, trying to drag his mouth from your chest and back to your lips. "Peter," you say, voice laden with fondness, with longing. "Peter."

He releases your nipple with a lewd little pop and takes a last, scratching bite of the side of your breast. You laugh and your chest wobbles and he gives you the most beatific smile he's ever given you.

"You have nice-" he starts. You cut him off, hand clasping the front of his shirt and tugging him down towards you. His smile presses to your smile.

Long dizzy moments of time. You don't know how long passes before he's slowing down, kissing the curve of your neck in lazy bursts with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You twist the hair behind his neck around your finger, almost listless in the aftermath of his affection.

He's tucked your shirt down over your chest just enough to hide your modesty, though the idea of it seems silly now that your skin knows his touch.

"Peter?"

He lifts his head from your neck. "Hmm?"

"We should go to bed."

"No," he says, the syllable dragging.

"I'm not having your Aunt May find her nephew like this. Or me."

He fixes your shirt and tucks himself back into your neck. "Done."

"Peter," you scold with no real heat behind it.

He shifts his weight on top of you, digging his hands into your back. "Five more minutes."

You cover his ear with your hand and close your eyes. Fine. Five more minutes.

<3

there will be one more part ! <3

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

tasm taglist @pomminine @isabelleonabicycle @decafcoffew@runawaywithmyghost@joebobisachickenfart @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah

[writing-fanics]

(Chapter I)

Cedric Diggory x Potter!Reader

a/n: the reader is in Ravenclaw house instead of Gryffindor.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as she shook him, Harry whimpered in pain as he tossed in and turned in the bed. Harry opened his eyes fearfully sweating profusely, as he looked at Hermione.

"Hermione. Bad dream." He said as he grabbed his glasses from the nightstand. Putting on his glasses he lets out a couple of deep breaths.

"When did you get here?" He asked.

"Just now. You?" She says, looking at him.

"Last night." He replied.

Hermione goes over to Ron's bed, "Wake up. Wake up, Ronald!" She said. Ron opens his eyes and jumps, "Bloody hell." He exclaimed and she shakes her head.

"Honestly. Get dressed, and don't go back to sleep. Come on Ron! Your mother says breakfast's ready." She says. Walking out of the room.

(Y/n) lets out a tired yawn. Rubbing her eyes as she exited the other bedroom she shared with Ginny, "Why're we even waking up so early?" She groaned, stretching out her arms as she walked downstairs.

After everyone had to wake up and eat. They made their way outside walking towards the forest. "Ron, Where are we actually going?" (Y/n) asked, turning towards Ron.

"Don't know. Hey Dad! Where are we going?" Ron shouts.

"Haven't the foggiest, keep up!" Arthur replied. They walked deeper into the forest, "Arthur!" A voice calls out, and the group saw the man standing a few feet away from them. "It's about time son." The man said, looking at the group.

"Sorry, Amos. Some of us had a bit of a sleepy start." Arthur said. As he looks over his shoulder looking at Harry, Ron, and (Y/n). "This is Amos Diggory, everyone, he works with me at the ministry." He says. As a young man jumps down behind Amos from the tree.

"And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" He said and shakes his hand, both (Y/n) and Cedric lock eyes. She smiles at him, coming back to his sense he shakes Arthur's hand, "Yes sir."

They started walking and both Harry and (Y/n) walk past Amos, "Merlin's beard, you must Harry and Y/n Potter." Amos says, as they walk past him. They look at him and nodded, "Yes sir." She says, looking at him.

"Great great pleasure." He says, and they shake hands. They shake hands. "Pleasure to meet you too sir," Harry says, and they walk up the hill.

"That's it sir, just over there," Arthur says. (Y/n) looks up and notices a boot sitting atop the hill, "Why are they all standing around that manky old boot?" Harry asked.

"That isn't just any old manky boot mate." Fred replied.

"It's a portkey." George says.

Everyone stands around the boot in a circle and puts their hands on the boot. "Time to go. Ready?" Amos asked.

"What's a 'portkey'?" (Y/n) asked.

"After 3. One... Two..." Amos said, "Harry! Y/n!" Arthur shouted, and the two rush over and put their hand on the boot.

"Three!" Amos shouted.

There's a white flash and suddenly they're all flying through the air. Everyone cheers. One moment later they're all flying through the air, "Let go kids!" Arthur says. "What??" Hermione exclaims.

"Let! Go!" He shouts, and Harry Hermione, Y/n, and the young Weasleys crash to the ground with a thump. While Arthur, Amos, and Cedric come down more gracefully.

"I bet that cleared your sinuses eh?" Amos asked as he chuckled. Cedric helps (Y/n) to her feet, "Thanks." She said.

They walk across the field and there's a massive crowd gathered around and cheering, as well there were tents set up all over. "Well kids, welcome to the Quidditch World Cup!" Arthur says, walking into the crowd.

Music is playing and people fly overhead on brooms, as they approach a small tent. "Parting of the waves I think old chap, see you at the match," Amos said and he and Cedric walk off.

The group walks further ahead and arrives at the small, tent. "Home sweet home," Arthur says, as they enter the tent, and inside it's many times bigger than outside.

(Y/n) looked around in awe, "Girls. Choose a bunk and unpack. Ron, get out of the kitchen we're all hungry." He said, as he walked around.

"Yeah get out of the kitchen Ron." Both George and Fred mocked.

"Feet off the table."

"Feet off the table." They mocked, taking their feet off the table and putting them back on as soon as their father walked past. Eventually, they made their way to the arena and to their seats. Which were at the very top.

"Blimey Dad, how far up ARE we?" Ron exclaimed as they walked up the stairs. Lucius and Draco Mallfoy are walking below them. "Well put it this way, if it rains... you'll be the first to know." Lucius said, and (Y/n) just rolled her eyes, "Father and I are in the minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself." Draco bragged.

"Don't boast Draco. There's no need with these people." Lucius says, to Draco. As Harry and (Y/n) turn to move. Lucius uses the snake end of his cane and it lands on top of Harry's hand, "Do enjoy yourself won't you. While you can." He says, and removes the cane from the top of his hand.

"Come on up, take your seats. I told you these seats would be worth waiting for." Arthur said, and they walked up the stairs to the top.

"Come on!" George exclaimed.

"It's the Irish!" Fred exclaimed. Five green and white figures fly through the air on their brooms leaving a colored trail behind them. A glittering leprechaun appears in the sky and starts dancing.

Everyone is excited. "Here come the Bulgarians!" George shouted, as fire red figures this time, appear, and one of them performs a stunt on his broom. The crowd begins to chant, 'Krum, Krum, Krum'.

"Krum!!!" The Weaslys exclaim. Krum waves to the crowd, just then.

Cornelius Fudge holding his want to his throat, "Good evening! It gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup. Let the match begin!" He says, then the world cup began.

a/n: short chapter but obv now there's an established attraction and there will be more to come in future chapters especially once the triwizard tournament begins. maybe he might even ask y/n to the Yule Ball who knows?

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@moncheriemoony @stareatceiling @queenl04 @t-stark35 @blue-aconite @cedricsgirl91