#discovering my spending addiction and it's not looking too good for me guys

[sakiye]

it's crazy having a credit card. i just spontaneously bought tickets to the art museum.

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Let's say that some "no way home" shit is happening and the universe collides and stuff, and instead of multiverse villains coming in the main one, the boys just discover AO3/Tumblr/Wattpad, etc.

Would chuckle and try to hide his smile. He would also blush when he read steamy stuff. He is amazed by how many people he is shipped with and would spend nights reading fics about him.

He would make an account to mostly keep his favorite works. He would also try to write some stuff with him, thinking it would be easy since it comes from the source, but people say it's OOC. 

"Well, story of my life..." Thus, "@the-story of-my-life" was born. He gets sued by Capcom for copyright infringement. Poor guy can't catch a break, even in another universe. 

Also, his hair has its own fandom.

First, what the fuck is a "ship" and why people are "shipping" him with Chris? His eyes widen at the intense NSFW content made with him and his archnemesis, but the "x reader" stuff boosts his ego.

"They know me so well, it's amazing." He'd say it with pride in his tone.

It turns out he doesn't need a virus to mind control anyone, a shirtless picture would do just fine. Thus, "@realalbertwesker" was born on Twitter.

Why people ship him with his archnemesis is beyond him. Still, he quickly falls into addiction and stays up all night reading fics about him. They just put a smile on his face.

He is shocked to see how many people got him right. They got his preferences right—how he cuddles and what he likes to eat—and goddamn, even his dick size is accurate.

"Am I that transparent?"

No, Chris, we are just obsessed. You're hot.

Why is everyone calling him a "DILF"? What's a DIFL? And why is Mia either dead or divorced in almost all fics?

After some quick research, he laughs out loud, finding all of this hilarious and quite enjoyable. He likes all the fics, both SFW and NSFW, and he has no shame reading steamy things next to his wife.

He is addicted to slow-burn fanfiction because it keeps him hooked, and he lives for the drama. He starts a Wattpad account to write his life story: "Ethan Winters: from ordinary guy to mold." Everyone says that it’s OOC.

This man never thought he'd be worthy of being simping material. Still, his ego is increasing with each fics he reads about him.

He has a Tumblr account called "@ask-heisenberg-203". He also buys many checkmarks using Miranda’s credit card. He really wants the rainbow.

He lives for the "x reader" stuff mostly because he feels loved with all his flaws.

He is a ladies' man and would be so proud to see all the fics and headcanons about him.

He can’t stop blushing at all the cute headcanons, and he even submits. His username is "@definitely-not-carlos" and he reblogs content about himself or Jill.

He lives for the spicy stuff, and at some point, he writes too (from personal experience).

Let’s face it, he makes a Tumblr account just to write fanfics about himself. Luis is a very good writer and gets many followers in a short time.

"My, my, these people are very horny. And why is everyone shipping me with Sancho?" He said after reading a few smuts that it's ok 'cause he likes the attention he gets.

"Damn, Leon looks good in those thongs..." He would say that after seeing some pictures. He thinks of getting a tramp stamp too because if it looks good on Leon, it would look stunning on him.

Taglist: @rokurodokuro @shadow-wolf510 @skylar-todd @lunarastrobabe @alewesker

[telomeke]

I was tagged by @colourme-feral at this post here, @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle at this post here, and @wen-kexing-apologist at this post here. Thanks for tagging me, guys! 🥰

My schedule is usually too packed with work these days for me to spend much time on Tumblr, but I have a window of time right now and I'm definitely doing this one, especially because it was so much fun reading yours. 😍

So–

coffee or tea – COFFEE. I am an absolute addict; two or three cups at breakfast, one at lunch, a couple more in the afternoon. But will have a cup of tea every morning as well because I heard it's good for you? | early bird or night owl – BOTH. Love starting my day when there's no one about, but my natural body clock keeps me up later and later. So some days I'm up at six, others I'm off to bed at 3AM. Is it any wonder I look tired all the time? 😂 | chocolate or vanilla – BOTH. Vanilla as a flavoring for most things (LOVE vanilla ice-cream and vanilla cake) but I'm also a chocolate FIEND and can chow down pounds of it at a time. So if I'm having chocolate I want a full-on, unadulterated, deep, dark, decadent chocolate experience. Not dulled and diluted in cake or cream form. I will make an exception for the fudgiest of brownies though. | spring or fall – FALL. Love the colors, the whiff of smoke in the air sometimes, the chance of some late sunshine that missed the boat for summer, and the chill ever-deepening in the air. It's rarely sodden the way spring can sometimes be, and I hate a wet spring with a late-winter thaw.

silver or gold – BOTH. Silver to wear, gold to buy. | pop or alternative – POP. I love a catchy hook, and some indie music can be too tuneless for me. | freckles or dimples – BOTH. Freckles (especially on red-heads) are cute, but then when I saw Fluke Jeeratch (formerly Pongsakorn) smile… well! 👀😍 | snakes or sharks – SNAKES. They're beautiful, but there's also danger humming below the surface and that just adds to the allure. As for sharks, well, I liked eating them – and not just the fins in soup – but it's not politically or environmentally correct (I've been told) so I don't anymore.

mountains or fields – MOUNTAINS. I've had a few wonderful mountain holidays. Love the cool, crisp air. | thunder or lightning – THUNDER. There's something sexy about that crack and rumble. Lightning is just scary. | egyptian mythology or greek mythology – GREEK. Greek gods and goddesses, so beautiful and always nude. LOL | ivory or scarlet – SCARLET. Some days my favorite color is a bold, bright red (not every day, though).

flute or lyre – FLUTE. Something about the brightness of the notes makes me synaesthetically see the sunlight dancing on a clear stream as it runs over polished stones. Love it whenever I get cross-sensory experiences. | opal or diamond – DIAMOND. They're this boy's best friend, LOL, because I love a bit of sparkle (though I don't dress with bling, except for my cufflinks). | butterflies or honeybees – BUTTERFLIES. They're just so pretty. | macarons or éclairs – MACARONS. Pierre Hermé my beloved! (I have a sweet tooth, can you tell? 🤣) Plus macarons are one of the traditional pastries that are naturally gluten-free. I'm partial to lychee rose ones, and rich chocolate ones (if they get the fudginess right). But vanilla is too mild for this. Another one for the vanilla v. chocolate duel!

typewritten or handwritten – HANDWRITTEN. I think handwriting does reveal personality and how your mind works, to an extent. So I love not just reading it, but also reading into it. Then again, I do love the clack-clack of a manual typewriter though. | secret garden or secret library – LIBRARY. A secret garden would be cool to discover and experience, but beyond that – the bugs would bother me too much to want to spend much time in there. Whereas I could disappear for days in a library. | rooftop or balcony – BALCONY. But not for the reasons you might think. Balconies are rarely comfortable unless the weather's good and you have a nice view. But they help shade your interior space and keep it cool when the weather's too hot. Most rooftops are service spaces so they don't actually look very good, with a fair bit of grime. (Have you SEEN the real rooftop of Tinidee? No wonder BBS filmed at Chana City Residence instead.) Plus flat roofs will eventually leak, which is a huge hassle to repair. | spicy or mild – SPICY. Prik kee noo my beloved! Also cili padi/cili api/siling labuyo. It's my way of remembering my late mom, who loved her chillis packing the most searing heat.

opera or ballet – um, BALLET? I've been moved to tears by dance before. But opera just sounds like loud wailing to me, so I've never been for a performance. I suspect I may have a Pretty Woman moment of my own when I do though, since there are some arias I like. | london or paris – PARIS! J'ai deux amours – mon pays et Paris… (Joséphine Baker is a legend for a reason.) London is a cool city though, but for sheer range of experience (from the gutter to the stars) it's still Paris by a whisker. | vincent van gogh or claude monet – MONET. I love the Impressionists, and a visit to Monet's house and garden was the highlight of my trip to Normandy. That and the cider. 🤣 | denim or leather – DENIM. Leather's uncomfortable to wear, unless it's for shoes.

potions or spells – SPELLS. I think I prefer my magic more action-packed, in the moment and with immediate results. | ocean or desert – OCEAN. I'm a Waterboyy at heart, and have many joyful memories of holidays by the sea as a kid. | mermaids or sirens – MERMAIDS, for the same reason as previous. Plus sirens are half-bird, and I am slightly ornithophobic when I get up close to any avian. | masquerade ball or cocktail party – MASQUERADE. I love fancy dress and costume parties. And I find the small talk at cocktail parties both daunting and boring.

Onward tagging:

@visualtaehyun @ruthsic @delesaria-blog @solitaryandwandering @twig-tea

@suni-sun @nihilisticcondensedmilk @neuroticbookworm @lovelyghostv @grapejuicegay

@airenyah @pandasmagorica @waitmyturtles @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @hyp-no-tic

@writerwithoutsound @hughungrybear @dreamenormous @sparklyeyedhimbo @callipigio

@pickletrip @kinyeee @breezy-bird @dribs-and-drabbles @dimplesandfierceeyes

@recentadultburnout @blmpff @bengiyo @lamonnaie @kattahj

@zimmbzon

No pressure if you don't want to play. And if I didn't tag you but you do want to play, please do so! Please tag me so I can read your responses as well!

Here's a clean version if you're going to play: 😍

coffee or tea | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees | macarons or éclairs | typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens | masquerade ball or cocktail party

‌

[monstermaster13]

An American Werewolf In London. Ah yes, THE iconic werewolf transformation scene, no movie or tv show has ever come close to replicating this particular type of transformation and this one is iconic for numerous reasons…for one thing the excellent practical fx by Rick Baker and also you really do feel the pain that David is going through when he transforms, and it's no wonder this was Michael Jackson's favorite horror movie.

DocChester/Justparodiezman.

Darkbulflrog.

The Fly (1986). I've always said 'lovey-dovey is fine and all but…' which is true since when it comes to my transformation things I don't like to spend too much time on the lovey dovey stuff, I don't like to rush my transformations, I like to be as detailed as possible and go through the physical process in a way that goes through all the important details needed and sometimes I like to be a little bit gross, I admit that I can be a pretty sick and twisted bastard when it comes to my transformation interests, and this movie is to blame for it..he starts out looking sexy at first but when he loses parts of his body, good lord…poor Brundlefly. I will never think of flies the same way again, but I will definitely think of this movie and Jeff Goldblum whenever I see a fly. Cronenberg makes body-horror thought-provoking and makes it a journey of discovery about the human condition. Oh Goldblum, never stop being you.

Numerous music videos. Let's see, there's the infamous Fatboy Slim music video Right Here Right Now, there's also the Black Or White video which pretty much made morphing effects mainstream, so mainly videos to choose for that feature people being transformed or morphing effects, i've always had a fascination for becoming other people especially in dreams where I become a number of fictional characters and celebrities I admire. And i've always wanted to try my own hand at it, which I have…but not as well as the people who made these videos have.

Doctor Jekyll and Ms Hyde (1995). I used to be against tg because to me all male to female tgs sounded the same, you know..guy loses private parts, grows breasts, gets addicted to the dirty s-word and becomes a bimbo and all that stuff? But that was until I discoverered this movie and TG fiction on here, I discovered that not all TG stories are the same and a lot of them are interesting/fascinating to read and see. This movie definitely helped influence that, and definitely gave me a sort of simp-like fascination with Ms Sean Young.

Animorphs..especially the way the transformations were written and also the morphs on the cover. I envy whoever got to design the covers for these books, I have tried to do similar morphs myself but mine aren't as good, I remember the one of Ax morphing into a cow as the first cow transformation I ever saw in media and the first animal transformation that is a tg as well, to put it in context Ax morphs into a female cow since he acquired the DNA of a female bovine instead of a bull/steer. You gotta be real careful with your morphs ya know. Also Rachel turning into a monster version of herself was badass.

Big Wolf On Campus. Ah yes, this show. This show along with Buffy is my main influence in general. First of all the werewolf is a hero and not a villain, second…the dialogue in this show is amazing and humorous as well…and it helped shape me into the horror fanatic I am now. I love half-creature transformations where the person remains humanoid but has features like pointed ears, fur/scales on their hands or face and fangs or claw-like fingernails, I seem to have a fascination with claws or claw-like fingernails since I remember at one point trying to grow claws of my own…sadly, my fingernails can't grow long enough for that, shame.

Dungeons and Dragons. I still use the D&D monster manual as reference material when monster-making…and when I depict how werecreatures turn in my work I sometimes go by the same rules as D&D's take on them but add a bit of my own flair to it (my werecreatures aren't fully good or evil, but evil ones can be turned good/corrupted ones can be turned to the side of good again with certain types of spells). I still have a Wererat OC which I created for a campaign.

The mirror scene from Casper.

Blackbluedawg.

Numerous sites about werecreatures and shapeshifters. I'm not going to say the name of this artist out of respect, but he made me the man I am today thanks to his website and I think of him as a personal hero and influence, let's just say there are numerous sites that serve as my inspiration and his was one of them, cartoons (both multiple-episodes AND one shot episodes/specials), live action tv show tfs, comics, games, you name it. Also learning about werecreature lore in general inspired me to get interested in it. And I can't believe I didn't discover sites like this from the get go. Also that one History Channel documentary about werecreatures/shapeshifters and the were-deer…oh yes.

Wallace and Gromit: Curse Of The Wererabbit. If you haven't seen this movie, you should…it's a loving tribute to classic horror with the signature Aardman charm and it's hilarious.

Goosebumps. A mask that turns you into a monster if you wear it more than once? Sign me up. A werewolf story based on the legend of Native American skinwalkers? Sign me up. What's that? A choose your own adventure scenario except in Goosebumps form and you could possibly end up as a bat-creature or a werewolf or a monster in general? Boy, this series has it all including monsters and transformations galore. Of course if I ended up turning into a Werecreature i'd be a Were-Aykroyd, hey…turning into Dan Aykroyd honestly would be awesome, it's meant to be after all.

Teen Wolf (1985). Definitely this and the cartoon.

Lance/Weremoose. I love his morphs into Disney and other animated characters and in particular his Star Wars morphs. They inspired me and got me into photomanipulations.

Swatcher. As a fellow Grinch fan, I approve of his use of the Jim Carrey Grinch.

Jmmates. A whole channel dedicated to transformations/morphs…sign me up. Heck a few of my ideas for morphs have even been adapted, including a Pennywise and insect morph.

Thriller. We all know this video by heart, MJ is with his girlfriend and their car runs out of gas and so they decided to take a walk through the woods, MJ asks her to be his girlfriend and she says yes, he then warns her that he isn't 'like other boys', she doesn't know what he is talking about and he doubles over in pain, she asks him if he is okay…he jumps up and growls 'GO AWAY!' in a deep monster-like voice as he turns into a werecat. This transformation is no doubt as iconic as AWIL's transformation considering John Landis and Rick Baker BOTH worked on this one.

The Honey Monster. I used to be scared of this guy (same with Carrey's Grinch) but I can now see that this guy has a fanbase that definitely remembers the old commercials of people turning into this creatures's species fondly and some have done their own fanfiction for it, which I am so proud of.

Nibblahfrog. I have a fondness for turning heroes or actors who play heroes into things and that comes from Nibblah's Power Ranger monster transformation concepts and that helped me get into the idea of creating monsters of my own.

Numerous interactive stories.

[screampied]

hello my sweet pumpkin pie, cutie pookie.

so happy you enjoy our long chats because i really like talking and talking with you, and it’s just a perfect blend for disaster.

i don’t play games, because if i download anything other than the sims on my computer, poor old sport is going to burst on my face. but!! i did watched my favorite streamer playing it, and other games, including the others from RE. i’m not one for actually playing, i’m more of a watcher. that said, i’m contemplating downloading on my tablet love and deep space because.. well, no need to explain, sylus is just there, just look at him.

ok, so yes you did, and i’m thinking if you follow me before october 1st i’m just going to have to send a non-anonymous ask with “busted” and DO NOT POST THAT PLEASE I HAVE A REPUTATION CHEIDHDKDNKS

omg yes, the mask stays on. you know another one i think is super sexy? jason. ugh, i’m always a slut for hockey players, but killer buffy guy with a nhl mask? oh yeah, me like that. i think once more toji could take that spot, idk man he just fixes the masked killer vibe so much, so sexy.

i have so many ideas for halloween, it’s not even funny, and i can’t start writing it for the life of me. but that’s okay, i’ll just say i got food poisoning and my brain is melting, people will feel sad for me and will let the poor writing slide.

talking about ideas, last night i had an idea for sukuna rider, and i kinda want to show myself earlier just so i can post it and gush about it with you. like imagine something along the lines of being his prize for winning a race… imma just let that there, and the car’s backseat, of course.

i always prefer books over movies, but it’s been a long time, i read most of the books (i think only the two first) in middle school, but the movies i keep rewatching every year. my favorite is the second because, well, finnick. self explanatory.

LEGALLY BLONDE!!! you have such a good taste. can you believe i’ve never watched it until three years ago? it was an instant regret to have never seen it before, fucks sake. my poor girly and academic self was devastated, but that was on me, i’m very cautious with seeing new movies, i like to keep rewatching the same.

and your music taste!!! perfection as well. i was much more into indie before, and my favorite famous singer was only one, mrs lana del rey, that was in middle school and only me and another girl in school knew her, it was like discovering water in a desert. now i’m growing found of sabrina. the thing is i relate so much to the being fucking horny all the time, having a thing for older guys and accepting i’m a flawed human being. well, i think it fixes it.

i’m not really a fan of anything else. i mean, i like grrm as my favorite author, and i used to spend my free time on twitter swearing at him all the time (affectionately. sometimes).

ok, questions of today will be what’s your favorite food from your country (which is lovely by the way, if it wasn’t for my enormous fears of tsunami, i would be going. oh, yeah, and the money.) and a country you would like to visit and one you wouldn’t at all.

nut anon

NUTTY NUT ANON 👹🫵 my bad b i meant to reply yesterday but i was soooo fucking tired. i got like twelve hours of sleep after work and IMSO ENGERGIZED

of course, eye feel like we both match each other’s energy’s so well 🫂. just two sillies chatting together heh. real, i play sims too. i used to be so addicted actually until it stopped working on my FUCKING PC. like wdym no storage what.

WHAT STREAMERS DO U WATCH TELL ME. same, i watch people play and play it for myself sometimes bc why not yk. DOWNLOADDD LADS RN u won’t regret it. i’ve been playing since august and i loveeeee it. it’s a new banner soon eheh. and right, sylus is so 🤭🤭. the only bad thing is that love and deepspace takes up SO much storage. like im not evenjoking its ridiculous ✋🏽✋🏽 but its worth it bc sexy men haha

LMAO “BUSTED” pls that’d be so funny 🌞 let me see if i can find out just who you are heheh

stop jason is so sexy goodbye. yeah he’s kinda smelly under all that gunk but yoh……. DO U SEE HOW BIG HE IS, SHIT. idk mask killers are just >>>>> i love friday the 13th, jason takes manhattan will always be my favvvvv ughhh. A NHL MASK I WOULD SCREAAAAAM. real toji def gives me psycho killer vibes yum

ILOOVEEEE LEGALLY BLOND. omg nutty i actually had an idea about making a fic about it. it would be about satoru and i thought about calling it “legally platinum blonde” get it bc his hair it white 🤒✋🏽. LMAOO ITS SO STUPID. it was supposed to be a crack smut fic, maybe an au where satoru’s a virgin and he loses a bet with suguru that he can take reader out but he eventually falls in love. WHATDO YOU THINK. but omg ty 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i love cheesy romcom movies, me n legally blonde, mean girls, and clueless are like this 🤞🏽🤞🏽. ur real, i rewatch so many movies myself

YAAAAH i also like rock, glam rock specially like queen. i used to have the biggest queen phase in quarantine. i pretty much like any genre besides country, i just …. no. don’t get me wrong tho, the only country song i can stand is before he cheats by carrie underwood NOW IVE NEVER BEEN CHEATED ON BUT ILL SCREAM THAT SONG BAR FOR BAR UNTIL MY THROAT HURTS omg sorry idk what came over me ehm 🙆‍♀️💓🎀. ooh i love lana, favorite album? i still remember when summertime sadness/video games came out, my entire life changed

sabrina >>>> YES. her new album is a cultural reset like UGHHHHH. literally no skips (i haven’t even finished it haha) i’ve only listened to bed chem, espresso, juno, don’t smile, taste and please please please but ohmmyyygod i love the retro 80s vibe she’s giving. you r so right ab older men and constantly being horny, i fear we’re the same person

my favorite food from my country !!!!!!!! probably pepperpot or our bajan fried fish. SO GOOD. hehe thank yew, and yeah 💔💔💔💔 i live like right next door to the fawking sea so we have to deal with hurricanes n tsunamis but thankful we haven’t had tsunamis for like decades. the last hurricane we had was in july, hurricane beryl but thankfully me n my family was on vacation during that time 🧎‍♀️a country i wanna visit issssss brazil !!!!! or the bahamas. one i don’t wanna visit, i don’t think i have one. i wanna visit everywhere in the caribbean one day 🙆‍♀️

[miioouu]

He's dilf

(also dk what else to call this)

Dilf Sakusa? Yes, dilf Sakusa. As I said before my head is sooooooo empty, just want Omi to rail me, so here we go!! Also i wanted to write more but i felt like it got too long, if you guys enjoy iiit, i just might write another part.❤️💜❤️

Warning:smut, age gap, perv reader...

Sakusa is a single dad, and a caring, loving one to say the least. All he ever does is for his kids, he always got them in mind, he dedicates his best matches for them, he dedicates his whole life for them really. But being an athlete means a lot of special training, a lot of overnight practices, a lot of overseas games, and as much as he loves that he's able to do what he's really passionate about for a living, the only downside, the thing that he hates the most about volleyball, is that it takes away from his family life. If it were for him, he'd spent everyday with his two kiddos, waking up next to them, having breakfast on the same table, spending the day laughing and doing normal family activities, bathe them, put them to bed and read their bedtime stories, but unfortunately, he couldn't do that. And that's why you're here.

A college student balancing studies and work, you honestly were so grateful that you applied as a babysitter for Sakusa. Not only are his kids literal angels, but he paid you good money, you technically live in a luxurious home for free, everything, from food to bed is there for you. His rules are pretty simple, keep an eye on the kids, make them happy and be there for them, support them, and stay clean. When first read that in the contract you were taken aback, but you quickly realized the man's strange phobia.

And to be honest you find it hot. When he came home, the way he takes off all his clothes at the door, leaving him in nothing but his undershirt tank and his boxers. If you're lucky, he's just came back from practice, his body is still glistening in drops of sweat. A look of pure disgust on his face as he takes his mask off, revealing his entire face as he marches to the bathroom, his bathroom, seeing every muscle of his contract as he moves. And you know it's wrong, kind of gross to be having lewd thoughts about him, not only he's your boss, the man is a good fifteen years older than you. But maybe that adds to the attraction. Older, more mature and well wise, you bet he knows so much more than your stupid college boys. You bet he knows exactly how to make you feel good. You can't help to think that way. Not when on the rare days he spends home, he looks so heavenly. The muscles in his arms flexing as he's wiping the table after his kids have finished lunch. His back muscles bulging as he's picking up one of them, and even more when it's the both of them. The odd times when you're alone, his words make you shiver, his whole attention on you. You can but rub your thighs at his weird habits; holding your hands to his nose seeing if you washed them properly, peaking over your shoulder as you do the dishes, sometimes standing way to close you can feel his body heat, running his fingers into your hair, putting them in ponytail, tightening it because "Don't want none of you hair in my and my kids's food."

All those small moments, they shouldn't make you wet, but they do, as you replay them in your memory, layed out in his bed. You know it's kind of creepy and inappropriate, if he ever finds out, it's the end of you, but you're addicted now. It only take you once. As you were putting away his laundry, the scent of him invaded you. The kids are well asleep, he told you he's coming late, you had plenty of time, and you couldn't help but think "What do his pillows smell like? Is his mattress firmer than mine? His sheets softer? What if I just..." and you did. You slipped into his bed, your unconscious taking over as your hand traveled down between your folds, the smell of his fresh laundry mixed with the remnants of his expensive cologne invading you, and it became a little, naughty habit of yours to cum in his sheets.

But do you really think he didn't notice? From the first night, he felt you scent in his sheets. He's not surprised, he's not dumb. The man has seen you eyeing him, your orbs looking from the curls on top on his head to his toes, always focusing on the bulge in his pants for a bit a too long. He should be disgusted by your behavior, but instead he's grossed out by his own dirty thoughts. He'd be lying if he didn't feel the same attraction. The man is well aged, too tired to be chasing around, so when he has someone like you living under his roof, he doesn't need to do much. Just close his eyes and let his mind wander; why are you in a skirt so short around kids? Your work consist of bending down, crouching over, moving around, do you know what you're doing? And why do you keep fluttering your eyelashes like that? Why do you smell so good? Everytime you walk past him, his cock twitches in his trousers. And he's so close, so close. Just remembering your form bent over helping one of the kids, your shirt opening and revealing your chest, one hand busy cleaning the kid's face, while the other holding into your own popsicle, getting it closer to your mouth, your lips wrapping around it, and it's when he remembers your innocent eyes looking up and meeting his hungry ones for a second that he finally reaches his climax, leaving traces of white in the sheets for you to discover tomorrow morning...

[lovee-infected]

This idea just hit me like a train. How would twst boys react to WAP from Cardi B?? 😂😂😂

I'm trying to ignore the fact that I might've never discovered WAP without this request...🗿

Warning(s): What should I even tag as the warning idkk ckcjxjsjsjdjdjck- Mentions of WAP's lyrics, mentions of nsfw, Warning for Idia's part bc I think it went a bit too far-

Riddle Rosehearts

Heard of this song named WAP being trending between students -> Searched it up -> Riddle:... Riddle: *Turns off his phone*

Bans WAP from the whole Heartslabyul afterwards, and every student found listening to it will have to face Riddle's: "NOOOOOOO- NO WAP IN THIS HOUSEHOLD - GO TO HORNY JAIL OFF WITH YOUR HEADS YOU UNWORTHY CREATURES- "

Trey Clover

Searches: "What does WAP mean?" before wards and after reading the search results he decides that he doesn't really need to listen to the song itself anymore.

He just clears his browsing history and returns to baking cakes. Nothing has happened, he knows nothing.

Cater Diamond

He is the guy making those "Night raven college react to WAP!!" videos on magicam. His reaction videos get over 100k views and people from all over the Twisted Wonderland start following this dork for them.

Who cares about the WAP itself? As long as he can gain followers over these videos he doesn't care how the song is supposed to be.

But at last Riddle discovers his videos by finding other dorms' students laughing over them and forces him to take them down💀 Man, Riddle really did ruin his once-in-a-life time chance for becoming popular.

Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade

Riddle has banned WAP Heartslabyul so they're going to illegally listen to it. It was Ace's fault though, Deuce is innocent.

Ace searchs up the music video, Deuce just sees the thumbnail and tells Ace that he doesn't think that this is going to be a good idea but Ace cuts him off by asking him not to be such a chicken-

Though they had to stop because Deuce was all shaky and embarrassed after just 20 seconds :"Stop this-STOP THIS- I CAN'T DO THIS- WE'RE STILL TOO YOUNG" and Ace had to stop to shut Deuce because they could've gotten caught at any second because of his unholy screams.

[a few minutes later...]

Deuce: It was saying DOORS in this house

Ace: Bruh what the- we both know it was saying Wh*res.

Deuce: Y-you dirty minded bastard!! It was clearly saying doors in this house!

Ace: Why the hell would they say doors in this house!??? It was wh*res!

Deuce: Doors!

Ace: WH*RES

Deuce: DOORS

Ace: WH*RES

Deuce: DOOOOORRRSSSSSSSSS

Leona Kingscholar

See he might be a jerk but he hasn't yet gotten to the level of appreciating this way of presenting women in songs-

He's just going to pretend that WAP doesn't exist,but most of the Savanaclaw on the other hand are going wild because with WAP, now he can't even take a peaceful nap without WAP being looped in his brain.

Ruggie Bucchi

WAP isn't beyond his power, he's handled stronger songs.✨ He'd regularly rap WAP in public when he's feeling like it.

Now he goes around to recommend WAP to naïve students and taint their virginity by making them listen to WAP without knowing what it is-

Jack Howl

Catches Ace and Deuce listening to WAP and ends up listening to it because of them. He doesn't knpw what to say...

He isn't mad, just disappointed. Disappointed parent noises. Out of all these students, why should he best buddies which these two?

Time to drag Ace and Deuce to a corner and give them a long speech on why young men their age need to be focusing on mastering skills and achieving success through these golden years instead of violating rules and tainting their pure minds.

"Trappola-kun, Spade-kun, you've greatly disappointed me. You need to be more mindful of your actions as fellow freshmen of night raven college. Is this how the future's great magicians are going to be? How do you think your parents would feel about this new habit of yours? Have you thought of how despicable women are being presented through such songs? Are you going to support such a taboo message toward ladies?"

And Ace and Deuce end up having to listen to him and think of their bad actions for the rest of the day...

Azul Ashengrotto

[Before listening to WAP]: He hears of this WAP song being super trending between students. What might it secret be? What kind of magic would make a simple song so hecking popular? He has to find out.

Azul thinks that by learning WAP's ways, he might be able to produce songs that are even better for mostrolounge and even start his very own music company! But before that he needs to listen to wap itself...

[After listening to WAP]: ...He discovers what kind of magic is making it so popular, but decides that it'd be better for him take a step back from the world of music for now. Yes, he's traumatized

Floyd Leech

"Hey hey koooeeebiii chaaannnn have you seen my new dance~?" ah yes, he's got the WAP dance and he's proud of it. These are the time when he's genuinely thankful for getting to have human legs.

But the WAP dance isn't his only target, he realizes that Jamil doesn't seem to want Kalim to know anything about WAP, but thankfully, Floyd is going to be kind enough to bless the young Kalim with his wealthy knowledge on WAP. ✨

Jade Leech

"My...my...that was savage," Jade is amazed, it's quite wonderful how these fragile creatures can go from Micheal Jackson's smooth criminal to WAP in a matter of years.

He's still having trouble keeping up with latest human trends and popular songs but, he's slowly liking humans a lot more than before. These creatures have already reached the level to make put p*rn in music, impressive.

Kalim Al Asim

He hears students whispering about an epic song named WAP during the classes, and of course he'd be intrigued!

He looks up the song but Jamil has already blocked his access to any sources that he might find WAP in, yet Floyd was kind enough to lend Kalim his phone to let him listen to this masterpiece. Later on, Floyd tells him about the WAP dance and bam, Kalim is addicted.

"Everyone watch me! I've got the WAP!"

Poor Jamil doesn't know which is worse, having Kalim signing it loudly in the dorm or watching him showing off his skills in that WAP dance in public. It's time for Jamil to go on a long, long trip and never come back until Kalim graduates from this school.

Jamil Viper

Listens to WAP once, is going to spend the rest of his life pretending that he has never heard or watched it. The most ironic part about it is how he watches the music video instead of just listening to the song and...the snakes. Good lord the snakes- He isn't sure if he likes snakes anymore.

The snakes part seriously traumatizes him but not like Kalim does when he asks Jamil to learn him the WAP dance. And heck no Jamil isn't going to learn him how to dance like a wh*re. At this point, he decides to deny WAP's whole existence.

Kalim: At least tell me what a WAP is!

Jamil:

Jamil: Worship and prayer.

Vil Schoenheit

Hasn't listened to WAP and refuses to do so. He's got standards.

Rook Hunt

"Bravo!!! These Mademoiselles have taken the art of music to a whole nother level! Beaute! 100 points! 💯" (...what else did you expect him to say?)

Just as always, no one can really tell if Rook really liked it or not but from the way he acts he seems to be... intrigued. Apparently WAP starts to get too famous in school and Rook would always be the first one to find out if a student is secretly listening to WAP in public, so he doesn't mind popping up and reminding the students not to listen to such a potentially stimulating song so carelessly: "Monsieur (x), it's adorable to see you appreciating such a glorious piece of art in this lovely day, but I don't think that all of these students staring at us right now are yet prepared for such a beauty,"

Epel Felmier

He just asked Ace for some music that'll make him sound more badass and Ace gave him the WAP:

Epel listening to WAP be like:😳😶😨😕😭

His face is redder than a tomato after the first 30 seconds of WAP, but Ace tells him that he'd be the bravest human being ever if he takes the urge to listen to this in front of teachers.

Tries to dance to WAP and make a video with it to upload on magicam, but Vil catches him in the middle of process.💀💀💀 The video turned out pretty good though. It looks just like a mother (Ehm- Vil) getting into her child's room (Epel-) and finding them doing some crazy shit.

Idia Shroud

He's the silent and seemingly shy dude who's listening to WAP in the highest volume under those head phones during classes.

Divus Crewel: CaF2(s) + Br2(ℓ) → CaBr2(s) + F2(g)...

Inside Idia's headphones: " ~ Wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~"

Bonus: He once forgets to connect his headphones to his tablet before playing WAP:

[Wap is being played at max volume inside Trein's class]

Idia: *Thinks that the sound is coming from his head phones*

The classroom: "Beat it up, n*gga, catch a charge

Extra large and extra hard

Put this p**sy right in your face

Swipe your nose like a credit card"

Trein: 😳

Students: 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

Crowley about to jump down: 🤭

Idia still not realizing what the hell is going on: 'Lucy lucy baby~ hihihi- wait- why they all staring at me now...? Did they hear me internally flirt with Lucius?'

No need to say what happened to Idia after this...

Ortho Shroud

No WAP for him. You may find him reacting to "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands" if you're interested.🗿

Malleus Draconia

Thank goodness he just finds the censored version of WAP... Listens to the whole song, but doesn't understand most of the lyrics. The "Put this cookie right in your face" part confuses him the most, he doesn't get it. Why would you put a cookie in your face? Is this something humans usually to do with their desserts? Like, would they put ice cream in their faces too?

Virgin dragon keeps on asking people, including Lilia, to tell him what it means to put a cookie in one's face, yet no one seems to give him any proper answers ):

Perhaps human music just isn't his thing, he's getting back to sad violin noises which he listens to when he isn't invited.

Lilia Vanrouge

WAP go brrrrrrr. Our sassy grandpa is legit in love with this piece of gold and all of the humans for achieving such a glory. The beat is superb and the lyrics are: Delicious, motivational and creatively written.

Even better, WAP has an unofficial but smexy dance too. Old man Lilia is never too old for performing a sexy physically challenging dance.

You can now hear savage rock sounds combined with WAP playing in the background coming from his room when he's vibing in the afternoon.

(I can totally see him wearing a neko maiden costume while dancing to WAP and you can't tell me otherwise)

Silver

Finds WAP in papa Lilia's playlist...

Silver:

Silver:

Sebek Zigvolt

Sweet mother of love Sebek feels like listening to WAP has taken his virginity away-

He is a good boy, no, he once was a good boy. He's no longer the worthy man he used to be now that this unholy song has tainted his soul.

Legit feels guilty and and sinful after WAP, so you can find him praying for forgiveness to that Malleus portrait in his room every night.

"Oh young master forgive my thoughtless deeds, I beg for your mercy upon me now that I've sinned..."

Dire Crowley

Not saying that a drag Queen Crowley dancing to WAP would be a thing, but a drag Queen Crowley dancing to WAP would be a thing- Everyone bow down to the Headmaster, the most gracious of them all 😩😩😩👌🏻

Please, don't blame him. Birby is under too much of pressure after the very recent overblot cases and he needs a way to let go of the stress😔😔😔

Sam

Is illegally selling copies of the WAP because most of the dorms had blocked access to this song for the students...

"Helloooooo little demons I've got the WAP! In stuck now-"

[george-fabian-weasley]

George Weasley — 5th December

Summary:  You read him a poem as he laid on your chest, loving the sound of your voice.

Words: 1,870 words

Warnings: Major Fluff, I Blushed So Hard so You Shall Too, George Weasley Supremacy 2.0, Makes You Wish You Can Shift Sooner So You Could Have This Moment With Him, So Floofy It Hurts Physically

Disclaimer: S i g h. I am just so in love with this man. The way I blushed so hard through this entire thing is obvious enough I will never love someone as much as I love this 6′3 ginger dork. Ooh, also the poem is mine, I wrote it thinking of George fdhfhjks I’m actually so so nervous to show you guys my poem so I really hope you enjoy it!

“Hey, flower,” George greeted you as soon as he walked in your dorm, seeing you leaning against your headboard, scribbling onto your notebook. He hadn’t seen you at all today, and your friends had told him you had called in sick, so right after dinner, he snuck some leftover food and went straight to your dorm.  

“Hello, mysterious handsome man,” You teased and laughed at him narrowing his eyes playfully at you. “How’s your fever, love?” He asked as he walked closer, giving you a sweet forehead kiss. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his lips on your skin, sighing in content, “Much better since Madam Pomfrey gave me some potions to drink. They were ghastly, to be honest.” 

George chuckled at your fake vomiting, slightly relieved that you were still his same, silly flower. 

He sat at the edge of the bed, right beside you as he held a tray of leftover food he had picked out, there were cauldron cakes, chocolate frogs, gummy worms, and a bowl of mushroom soup, which when you saw the thick creamy food you gasped, “They had mushroom soup today?!”

The next couple of hours were spent with you and him eating together in bed, you listening to his day today, Fred and Lee had tried to convince him to put some explosive powder into your mushroom soup earlier—you gasped in mock offense—luckily he said no, not wanting to be accidentally murdered in his bed at midnight—you nodded in agreement, he laughed—and the two friends wished you well. 

You instantly snatched the bowl and groaned at the taste of the soup on your tongue. George chuckled, “Yeah, reckon you would like a bowl of ‘em in bed.”

“You’re kidding? I would love to have it in bed, blimey you’re the best boyfriend ever, thank you, Georgie.” You gushed as you gave him a big wet kiss on his cheek, which he laughed loudly at.

And you told him about yours, about how ghastly this morning was that you had woken up in cold sweats and practically had to crawl out of your bed to call your friend for help—he was frowning so hard—and Madam Pomfrey had visited you twice during the day, giving you some potions and brought you some food to regain your energy—George planned to surprise Madam Pomfrey with sweets the next day as a thank you—and you spent the rest of your day writing.

“What were you writing? Another poem?” George asked, he had known you had a passion for writing ever since you were little. It doesn’t matter what kind of writing it was, you do everything. From poetry to short stories to even some of Hogwart’s news articles, you love everything there is about writing. Even songwriting, George had to close his mouth manually when he found out you could actually compose songs and sing, he thought he’s had enough reasons to love you as it is when turns out there are more and he’s more pleased to discover all of them over time with you.

“You’re right, actually. I missed you a lot today, so I wrote it for you,” You said with a small smile, eyes tearing away from George shyly. 

George had sworn his heart stopped beating for like 5 seconds.

“For me? Really?” He whispered in awe, his smile widening at your blushing cheeks. George was absolutely sure his face was the same hue as his hair at the moment, but his heart was leaping in too much joy to actually care. Seeing you before him trying to hide your heavy blush and trying so hard to contain a big grin with your teeth on your bottom lip had his whole knees weak. You looked mad adorable and all George wished to do at the moment was shrink you into pocket-sized and keep you in his pocket forever.

“I-I mean, no one has written me poems before…” He trailed off, his hand brushing the nape of his neck, feeling extremely giddy and extremely happy. He was usually the one who made you this way, blushing and stuttering, but when it’s your turn, he almost died out of heart attack each time.

“Well, you’re going to be surprised when I tell you that every love poem I’ve written, I thought of you.” You said, rolling your eyes playfully at his widened eyes, flushed cheeks, with a giddy grin on his lips.

There it is; the heart attack.

“Well I would love to hear you read it for me—excuse me, madam, coming through,” He said, shuffling on the bed closer to you, laying between your legs, his back on your chest and his head on your shoulder perfectly; as if your body was molded solely to hold him this way, and George wouldn’t agree more. You laughed as he finally leaned onto you, sighing in content as he did. You pulled the blanket so it could drape the both of you perfectly, and you leaned your cheek to his forehead. 

“Alright, but warning, it’s very very mushy,” You warned, and he smiled a bit wider, “All the more reasons to read it then.” 

You reached the leather brown notebook at your other side, flipping the page easily to where you want it due to the lilac feather quill resting between the tea-colored pages, acting as a bookmark.

Your arm beside George rested on his head, massaging his scalp gently as he liked it. George hummed in content as he leaned onto your neck, feeling very comfortable. The warmth from your body behind him and the heavy blanket draped across you both felt so comfortable that he didn’t want to move, ever.

“This is the first poem, I call it 5th December,” You said, and George opened his eyes, “Why 5th December? Isn’t that like, 10 days ago?” You chuckled, “Yeah, I first wrote it then, but I finished it today.” George hummed in understanding, “Go on then.”

“I’m not very good at reciting poems, so excuse me if it doesn’t sound right.” You said and George dramatically sighed, “You’re stalling, love. And even if you say it most horribly, I’ll still love it because you wrote it.”

“Aww, Georgie,” You cooed, kissing his forehead causing him to crack a smile. “Okay, okay, here it goes.” You said and George had his eyes on the notebook you’re holding, scribbles of black lines and paragraphs filled every page.

“Awh, darling.” George cooed and kissed your cheek, causing you to stifle a giggle before going back into reciting mode.

“If you ask what my birthday wish was,

I simply could not tell you because

I don’t wanna say it’s wanting you with me laying down the grass

Together at night with the company of the stars.”

As you read the words, George found himself getting flutters in his stomach. He was so focused now, wanting to hear more of your voice and this poem combined, because to him, there is no such beauty that could compare. All that matters to him as of that moment, was you.

“If you ask what my falling star wish was

I shall simply shake my head just because

It’s hard to describe wanting you by my side each and every night

Taking your hand in mine and waking up with you next in line.”

You looked at him, and George was already looking at you with full adoration. He looked so mesmerized and amazed, you smiled at this; how adorable. You closed the notebook, you had already memorized every line as you had read it over and over for the past day, getting butterflies in your heart as you thought of George every time. With your eyes on him, your soft voice recited the poem again.

“If you ask what my new year’s wishlist was

I would simply put my lips together because

I couldn’t tell you it’s wanting to travel the world with you

And just try together everything new and spend time with you.”

George was in a trance. The beautiful words you crafted together were meant just for him. The poem you shared with him was because of you thinking about him. At that moment, George had thought of something he never would’ve thought during his past relationships. 

“If you ask what my clover wish was

I would just laugh and tell you no because

I wish to touch every inch of you every second with all my will

For your lips against mine, I shall need no happy pill.”

He wanted to spend his entire life with you, and no one else but you. He wanted to live with you, to be with you during thick and thin. Because… Because he loves you.

As you finished it, you gave him a gentle smile. There was a silent moment from the both of you, the only sound was the raindrops outside the window, the rhythmic splatter of water was therapeutic, to say the least.

“And if you ask, why won’t you tell me anything of you wished for

Let’s talk about it over a nice cup of tea just brewed

I shall say with the love in my eyes a secret till forevermore

That if I simply say it to you, then none of them would come true.”

You took your time to look at George’s face. Sometimes you had marveled at the fact that you could get this ridiculously beautiful man to be yours, to like you for who you are, to accept each and every quirk you have without any feeling of annoyance or disgust by them. 

This ridiculously beautiful man, with lush and soft ginger hair, light colored long eyelashes, the stunning color of brown for eyes, and peach-hued freckles decorating his face like footsteps of an elegant ballerina on stage.

“I am so lucky,” Was all George could breathe out as he leaned upwards, engulfing you into a passionate kiss. George loved every single moment when he kisses you, your lips are nicotine at its best, and he would drop everything to be an addict, an slave for you; for thousands of eternities if he could.

His hands had found the back of your neck, pulling it closer to his direction, deepening the kiss. You closed your eyes to relish the moment, your hands already found their place at each side of his jawline, hungrily pulling him closer to you.

When you pulled away, your lips were ghosting each other, his hard breaths hit your swollen lips softly. “What exactly are you lucky for, Weasley?” You breathed out, still panting softly, the smile on your lips grew as it mirrored the lovestruck smile on his lips.

He kissed your nose, and the rosy cheeks returned, “For you, for the poem, for you reading the poem, for you writing the poem while thinking of me,” You giggled and he joined with a chuckle, a soft smile on his face, “For everything. I love you, my flower.”

“I love you too,” you bit your lips, trying your hardest to contain a smile, “If this is what I get after reading you a poem then do you wanna hear the second one?” George laughed loudly; happy and content just being there with you.

TAGLIST:

“Oh, absolutely.”

@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @hybridfamily @armageddon-riots @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel @evewithluv @softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @sarcasticallywitty15 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @imcedricdiggorys @bucketandpotato @klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @tummyfullofcummies @littlechillies @islmnlyswrthatushuturpieholeben @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @sosaysmendez @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @the-unmanaged-mischief @missmulti

[americasmarauders]

in your eyes - Bucky Barnes

author’s note: so remember when I said I wouldn’t write Bucky anymore, only that one time? yeah, so I said, you know, like a liar. I saw the first episode of falcon and the winter soldier and that was all it took for me to fall into the ‘bucky barnes simp’ hole all over again. I made an entire one shot based on a single piece of a dialogue from the first episode. the story starts right before the first episode and ends right after the last. I spend an entire month and a half working on this please give it some love.(pls reblog i beg of you) Huge thanks to @batarella and @glorified-red for beta-ing this. ily <3 hwo knows, if people love it enough I might give a part 2. 

summary: her quiet job in the library got louder when Bucky walked into her life. (Bucky Barnes x telepath!librarian!reader)

WARNINGS: i do write a bit about addiction in this, if it makes you uncomfortable, please do not interact. it’s not heavy, or graphic, but the reader does experience abstinence. be warned.  no spoilers for tfatws, but i do reccomend you watching it. 

words: 11,416

mastelist

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#

It was all so loud usually. When she first discovered her ability, it was like there were suddenly a thousand voices yelling inside her head all at once. She remembered falling to her knees, clutching her ears and crying out as the voices shouted different things at her. 

 Then the Professor came, promised her to help control her own mind. She didn’t want to trust the guy, even if he said he had the same power as her--even if he said everything would be alright. But the headaches were getting worse, the voices were getting louder and louder. She took him up on it and left her home to live in his boarding school. 

She met interesting people and--at the end of her stay--she achieved what she was there for. It took 4 years of her life, constant nightmares from reading too much of her colleagues' minds, and several isolated afternoons - more than she wanted to admit. Nevertheless, she could finally go to a concert or have a normal college class without crying from pain. 

She lived a normal life after her time at the Institute. She mostly ignored how her teenage years were far from the ordinary, or how sometimes she could hear a random thought from the person sitting next to her if the thought was loud enough. There were days when everything got too much, days where she lost control. She would stay in her house with noise cancelling headphones on (even if it didn’t work like that, it somehow helped) just going on throughout her day as quietly as possible. Tom knew she would get sick, even if working at the library rarely made her go into her lockdown modes. 

The library calmed her in a way. The thoughts were rarely disordered and loud, more focused and quiet. It fascinated her that even in their thoughts, people respected the quiet environment the library required. But sometimes, someone would appear with a troubled mind, something  books couldn’t even soothe. 

There was a regular now, he was one of those people whose thoughts were always all over the place; she couldn’t pick them apart, words would fly through her head -  words she often associated with the book he was reading. She wouldn’t know, it was Nancy that talked to him most times.

He always sat at the same old, worn out armchair, talking with the older people in the library as if they were the only people he was comfortable with. Sometimes, she would be restocking the books and see him looking at old newspapers. She never got the courage to talk to him. She figured her curiosity wasn’t enough to muster up the bravery needed to utter a word to him. 

Tom was on leave that day. He was stalling his doctor’s appointment, telling her his back pain wasn’t that serious, but she knew better. Every so often she would hear a whisper of pain in her head and she knew her boss wasn’t alright. It had taken her months, but she finally convinced Tom to go and get his back looked at. 

So she was working the counter that day: checking books off, admitting them, and then separating them so she could reshelve the books the next day. It was pretty boring work, repetitive, and she wondered how Tom kept busy all day when she finished all of her chores in a couple of hours. 

“Excuse me,” she heard, standing up as a reflex. Her eyes trailed up to the person standing in front of the main desk. It was the Loud Man (that was what she had taken to calling him). “I want to check this off.”

“Yeah,” she said, breathless. She was hearing too much from him, too many random words. It made her feel dizzy. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

She took the book from his hands, her fingers brushing slightly at his leather gloves, her thoughts suddenly got even more flooded at the slight touch. She could feel a rising nervousness in him, so much it blended with her own nerves. She quickly retrieved her hand, hoping she hadn’t seemed impolite. 

She sat back at her chair, looking at the book. “The Hobbit, huh?”

“I’m re-reading it,” he said, his eyes sincere, “I read it when it first came out.”

She looked at him funnily. “You read it in 1937?”

His expression froze, the slight smile morphing into a frown, his loud thoughts got louder with a single word: ‘lie’. “That’s a funny joke.”

She smiled at him, not taking his comment too seriously. “I’m a funny gal.”

He laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was like he was only checking off  a box of social convention. It quickly faded to an impatient expression, and she could tell he wanted to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. 

“I haven’t seen you here before,” he mentioned.  

“Oh,” she muttered, “I’m usually reshelving things, Tom operates the front desk but he went to the doctor. I’m the only other person who works here, so,” she trailed off, “I’m Y/N.”

“Bucky,” he responded, his face slightly tensed. His eyes hovered over everything in the library, as if he was trying to find something wrong in it. 

“Nice to meet you, Bucky," she handed the book back to him. "It's due next week. Don't be late with it.”

“I'll return it tomorrow,” the words slipped from his mouth. 

“Fast reader?” she asked. 

“Got nothing else to do,” he shrugged, the word ‘lie’ once again swimming in her head in the mess of thoughts she received from him. 

He gave her one last smile and disappeared into the library. His thoughts got distant, but they lingered in her head. Flashes of pain, bright white lights, and screams littered her mind. She shook her head trying to get rid of them. It rarely worked, not with thoughts so persistent. 

Her head started to pound as the thoughts got more intense somehow. That never happened before, usually she could only hear people that stood near her and she was sure Bucky walked all the way to the back - he wasn’t close to her in any way. 

Her hand shook as she fished out her headphones. She put them on and connected them with her phone. Playing her music was a hopeful distraction, detering her brain enough to quiet down everything. She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, just like the Professor had taught her. He used to say a quiet and strong mind was the key to ward off stray thoughts. 

It helped clear the thoughts, the mess of words only leaving whispers of broken thoughts in the way. She grabbed those and put them away, shoving them inside a mental box of lost thoughts. She did that with all the others, it helped keep her mind organized. 

She didn't know how much time had passed when she opened her eyes. She always took too much time clearing her mind, she would forget the outside world. Peter used to poke fun at her for that, drawing penises on her face. When she came to her senses she would always run after him, ready to tackle him to the ground. It was always useless: you can't outrun Peter. 

She noticed Bucky leaning on the frame of the front door. It was getting darker outside, an orange hue illuminating his eyes perfectly. Her breath hitched for a second before recomposing herself. 

“Good nap?” he asked, the smallest smirk on his lips.

“I wasn’t napping,” she smiled, shaking her head. She checked the clock and saw it was way past closing time. It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he had gone out of his way to stay with her when he should have gone home. “Why’d you stay?”

“Everyone left,” he said, “and I thought it wasn’t safe to leave you in a trance alone in an empty library.”

“I wasn’t in a trance,” she took her headphones off, resting them around her neck, “I was… clearing my head.”

He looked at her funnily, “Busy day?”

“It’s been weirder than usual,” she responded, smiling. She sat back down and logged off the system.

“How weird is working in a library?”

She scoffed, lighty. “You have no idea,” she smiled mischievously.

She picked up her things, keys in her hand. She left the front desk, going to Bucky’s side. “Thanks for staying,” she said, “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem,” his hand brushed the back of his neck with a timid smile, very unlike his general physique and stance, “I had nowhere else to go.”

She could feel his thoughts bubbling underneath her skin, wanting to come out and flood her brain with confusing images and words. Whispers of faint words echoed through her mind, soft enough that she couldn’t distinguish what they were. 

“I find that hard to believe,” she said, words slipping out of her mouth faster than she could stop it. Old habits she supposed. She could always keep thoughts of other people to herself, it didn’t seem fair to them she could hear their thoughts, the least she could do was keep them to herself. But when it came to her own, they just came out of her mouth before her conscience could stop her. “I mean,” she started, “a guy like yourself -  good looking and all - must get a lot of people just, um, throwing themselves at you.”

He breathed out, an awkward expression on his face. She could hear one word clearly: ‘lie’. “I don’t date a lot,” he stated, “Not really my thing.”

She changed her approach to the conversation, sensing the uncomfortable energy he oozed. “Oh,” she muttered, “It’s okay, I mean, I don’t date a lot either. I barely leave my flat actually,” she brushed a single piece of hair out of her face, “I hate crowded spaces, and I have just the weirdest habits. You know, not a lot of people are into women who work at a library and barely make minimum wage,” she mumbled, her hands in her pockets restraining her hands for gesturing too much just like she always did,  “I have a lot of issues too, at least that’s what the Professor used to say to my therapist before each session, which is fair and--oh God, I’m sorry, I just rambled.”

He chuckled (an actual chuckle), a full light-hearted laugh, one that rumbled throughout his chest. “It’s fine,” he said, “I like listening to you talk.”

She heard the words ‘like’ and ‘quiet’ shoot through her mind. She smiled at him shyly, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know how to respond to that,” she laughed awkwardly, “Thank you again, for waiting and being, I don’t know, just nice, I guess.”

He smiled, a slightly bigger smile then he had given her the entire time they’d interacted. “Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, “No problem.”

Both of them walked out the door. She turned and locked it, then pushed a button that activated the security systems of the building. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said whilst shrugging. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he went down a few steps of the main staircase. “I’ll see, uh, see you tomorrow.”

She saw him go down the steps, listening to the faint echoes of his thoughts in her head. She felt the tips of her mouth curl up, watching him go as the sun set on the horizon. She hadn’t felt that before, that sense of mystery, of wonder and curiosity. His mind was in shambles, broken pieces of it laying in every corner of his brain, and she heard all of it. It compelled her, even if it felt completely wrong to be so enthralled by someone’s mind. 

She felt inadequate for liking his mind when he didn’t even know she could listen to it. It wasn’t the first time she felt that way. She remembered a boy from the shop near the Institute, she loved hearing his thoughts. She rarely left the Institute, but when she did she would always sneak to the store to buy a popsicle as an excuse to admire him. Sometimes he would smile at her and her brain would malfunction for just a second, his thoughts flooding her and overwhelming her every time that happened. 

She anticipated it was only a matter of time before that happened with Bucky again. She didn’t exactly know if that was a good thing, if she should indulge in the latent curiosity and table herself further with his mind - with him. 

The sun set in the horizon, the orange glow fading to the blue of the night sky. Walking down the streets, she could still hear remnants of his thoughts inside her head, his imprint already set on her. She wondered how long it would take for it to fade, if it would fade and if she wanted it to.  #

#

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was.

Tom’s doctor ordered maximum rest. Apparently, the problem in his back was more serious than both of them anticipated. The doctor ordered as much rest as Tom could have, meaning more breaks and leaving early. That also meant she had to do double the work - she wouldn’t mind at all had she not left a pile of returned books to shelve. 

She put her headphones and drove the cart full of books through the library all afternoon. Usually not a lot of people came in on a Monday afternoon to check out books, most were local teens that were there to study or make out. She always pretended not to know which ones were there to actually study or not; the thoughts always flew out to her when they were there to snog, most times it was hard to contain the shit-eating grin that would want to rise. 

She felt someone touching her shoulder. She jumped slightly, startled at the touch. Turning around, she saw Bucky, his thoughts overwhelming her. She rested the headphones around her neck, pulling out her phone to pause the music. “Hey, Bucky,” she breathed out, trying to contain the images and words in her head, “What are you, um, how you doing?”

“I’m good,” he smiled at her, looking down at the ground, “Um, Tom’s not at the front desk and I gotta return the book.”

“Oh yeah,” she took the book from his hand. It was still warm from his touch, “I thought you wouldn’t come today, to be honest.”

“I said I was,” he looked at her intensely, eyes narrowing in suspicion. 

“Well,” she smiled awkwardly and averted her eyes to the ground, “People sometimes say things they don’t mean.”

She didn’t realise what she said until it was out of her mouth. She remembered how he was uncomfortable around her, and how he would think about lies just as he told her something. Embarrassment flooded her senses, she felt heat rising to her cheeks. 

He looked at her weirdly, as if he was analyzing her. The more he looked, the more she listened to his mind. Words of suspicion floated around, she swallowed dryly and nervously at the thoughts. Echoes of screams and a crushing sense of guilt came through, she wondered what had happened for him to think of that. She wondered if she was the one person that caused him to think like that. 

“I’ll return it for you,” she said, motioning for the book, trying to get the attention off of her. 

“Yeah, thanks,” he said, “D’you mind if I get another?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she said, “I’ll wait for you - at the front desk, I mean,” backing away from him, she accidentally bumped into a bookshelf,  “Not, um, not any other way.”

He stared at her and nodded slightly. She turned around and walked to the front desk, cringing at her inability to mutter coherent words to him without stumbling in the middle of a phrase. Something about him made her lose all of her composure, she didn’t know if it was the constant flood of thoughts and memories she listened to from his mind or just him making her nervous. 

She sat down at the chair behind the front desk, and rubbed her face, as if it would rub the embarrassment out of her. Sighing, she returned the book for Bucky. Just as the day before, his thoughts lingered in her head, images that meant very little to her were calling out.

“Why’s Tom not here?” he asked. She looked up at him, his blue eyes piercing through her. It was the first time she noticed his eyes, and somehow, it made everything worse. Instead of whispers, she heard everything clearly. Fools said the eyes were the windows to the soul. She knew better: someone’s eyes told her what they were thinking, what they were feeling. And she could tell Bucky felt a lot. 

“Um,” she looked back down to the book she just admitted back, moving it to the pile of books to reshelve. “He’s on leave, doctor’s orders.”

“Back pain was somethin’ serious then?” he responded, handing the new book to her. 

“Yeah, I told him to get that checked out, turns out I was right,” she shrugged, getting the book, her eyes still fixated on the computer. She felt the leather of his gloves graze the tips of her fingers, and a searing pain shot through her head. She brought the book down to the table, closing her eyes hoping the pain would stop. “Brave New World? Revisiting the classics, huh?” she struggled to keep a whimper from emerging from her mouth. 

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She heard a whisper of concern run though his head, “Um, are you alright? You don’t look very well.”

She shook her head, faking a smile, pretending she wasn’t getting a thousand thoughts from everyone in the library- especially Bucky’s thoughts - blasted at maximum volume on the speakers of her mind. “Just a bit of a headache.”

“It looks serious,” she could hear the leather from his gloves squeaking as he rested his hands on top of the counter. 

“I’ll be fine,” she gritted through her teeth. It had been years since she was last in a position like that, her head throbbing with thoughts that weren’t hers. “I have these all the time.”

She heard his thoughts of concern louder than the others. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She dismissed his question, not wanting to dwell on his concern longer. “Here,” she handed the book back to him, her other hand closed in a fist, “it’s due next week. Don’t be late with it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his tone slightly strained. “I’ll return it tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she shook her head, her eyes closed and teeth gritted, choosing not to question how he would return that book tomorrow. She fisted both of her hands, her fingernails sinking in the skin of her hands. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

She heard his footsteps moving away from her, she sighed in relief, hoping it would mean her mind was going to calm itself and the headache would fade. Instead, the footsteps grew closer to her once again and then the leather of his gloves was grazing the skin of her arm, helping her stand up and guiding her somewhere.

“Imma take you to the hospital, doll” Bucky stated, not leaving room for discussion. 

“No,” she tried to shake off his hold, “My shift’s not over, I can’t leave.”

“You look terrible, and you’re clearly in a lot of pain,” he grabbed her arm again, “You need to go to a doctor.”

“Doctors won’t solve this,” she once again freed herself of his hold taking a step back from him. More of his thoughts flooded her mind, a mess of memories and guilt overwhelming her. “They never solve anything,” she breathed out, her voice breaking, “I just need to rest.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his tone temptive and careful. 

“No doctors,” it was the first time she had looked in his eyes willingly. There was a sort of weird determination in her eyes, one that came with years of terrible experiences with doctors. Hundreds of appointments that left her more desperate than before, endless tests and thoughts heard that she didn’t have any fix, as if she was broken in the first place.

His jaw tightened and his intense eyes fell upon hers. Her throat dried up under his gaze, her head unbearably heavy with his thoughts and hers. “Fine,” he growled, his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket, “Fine.”

“I need to go back to work,” she backed away from him, slowly. “I--I’m sorry,” she whispered, not sure why she was apologizing to him. 

“It’s okay,” his jaw was still tight, his eyes were still intense lingering at her. She couldn’t even appreciate his gaze at her, and how if she was a normal person,--if she didn’t have that goddamn gene--she would have let her heart skip a beat and feel coy under his gaze. “It’s your choice.”

There was a stubbornness to his stance, something that told her he wouldn’t be backing down so easily. She couldn’t go to any doctor, she couldn’t risk anyone finding out. She didn’t want to go through the tests and the never-ending questions, whether it was out loud or not. There was only one person who could possibly help her, and she refused to go to him. 

She backed away from him quickly, turning around and heading to the front desk once again. Her headphones found their way to her ears, and she started to blast her music at full volume, hoping, or rather praying, it would help ease her headache. She put her phone in her back pocket, grabbed the book she had just returned. 

The cart wove between the shelves with ease under her direction. She could still feel Bucky’s presence within the library, it was like carrying an iron ball tied to her feet at all times. Unlike the day before, he was more troubled, he felt more things and more intensely. It was too much. She wondered what happened for him to be so restless. 

The music hardly helped, it somehow made it worse. She couldn’t shake the tangled thoughts and think for herself, and the music disturbed even more. She dropped her headphones, frustrated. Her head pounded, desperation rose in her. She refused to call Professor, he would not help, he would only rub in her face that she shouldn’t have left. ‘This wouldn’t have happened if you stayed at the Institute, Y/N,’ she could imagine him saying if she closed her eyes. 

“Are you better?” turning around, she saw Bucky, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. His eyes were focused down, his shoulder slightly hunched. It looked like he was ashamed of asking her if she was alright, almost as if it was his fault that she was in pain. It was, but she didn’t hold it against him. She was certain it wasn’t his fault. 

“Not really,” looking at him, she analyzed his expression. His jaw was tense, she could see his hands were fisted inside his pockets, “I just need to sleep.”

He nodded slightly. “You sure you don’t want anythin’?”

Her head tilted slightly and her mouth quirked up a little. She could tell he wanted to charm her, she heard the word bounce around her head faintly--the guilt was louder, though she could barely hear anything else--and she would lie if she said she didn’t like his attention. “I am” her hands entangled together, her knuckles tight, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Yeah, yeah” he breathed out, his hand brushing the side of his leg in a nervous habit. “I need to go,” he pointed back at the door, his face stony. 

He gave her one last look before walking away from her. She could feel him uncomfortable, it lingered in her head longer than it should. He lingered in her more than he should. Her eyes followed him on his way out of the library. His mind was confused and tired, it left a trail of breadcrumbs calling for her to solve the mystery that was. 

#

#

She sat cross legged on her bed, her eyes closed. There were candles around the room, the lighting dim and warm. The smell of  incense was strong, it swallowed the entire room. It was necessary, she needed that to ground herself to the real world, and not lose herself in her mind. 

 Since calling Professor was not an option, she tried to take matters into her own hands. She was going to untangle the knot of thoughts Bucky had left in her head by herself. It could potentially be dangerous, if she wandered too far who knows what could happen. She had taken the necessary precautions, but she had  only done that before under the careful and judgemental eye of the Professor. It was the first time  she was doing it alone, it scared her to think what could go wrong. 

She breathed in calmly and concentrated on the knot in front of her. Her head was a whole other world, it could be molded to her will, she felt safe in it. Now, it was a black empty space, the only thing filling it was herself and the pulsating mess of thoughts Bucky had gifted her. 

Kneeling in front of it, she carefully picked apart superficial thoughts, setting them aside. They didn’t matter to what she was there to do, they were only random words and snippets of his day-to-day life that she was sure were not the ones causing him so much pain. 

It didn’t take long for her to reach what pained him. It was surprising to see the amount of thoughts in front of her, usually it was much less. People tended to blow things out of proportion often, little things could cause a world of hurt to themselves. Bucky seemed to take a lot of pain, underestimating his grief. A typical mentality of someone who lacked the confidence, who didn’t trust themselves enough. 

She picked a single memory and entered it. 

The lighting was dim, a yellow glow swallowed her. The room was dirty and disgusting, the tiles that were once white tinted an yellowish gray. It looked like a room used for medical procedures, judging by the sheer amount of medical-like instruments littered around the desks. There were no calendars in sight, she had no way of knowing when the memory had happened. 

There were at least 5 or 6 people in the room, all surrounding a metallic chair. She approached the scene, carefully. Standing beside the chair, she saw Bucky.

He couldn’t be much older than he was when she met him. His hair was slightly longer than it was currently, just brushing his forehead. He was shirtless, his skin glistening in the faint lighting of the room. His hand was tied to the chair. His temples bruised from something she hadn’t figured out yet. His chest moved violently, struggling to breathe properly. And his left shoulder? There was a red swollen scar there. She doubted the wound was fresh, more like reopened. Maybe they tried putting a prosthetic there and it failed. It was likely they hadn’t administered any painkillers in the procedure, and she felt anger boiling inside her at the thought. 

“James Barnes, 3255...” he trailed off, muttering under his breath. His eyes were halfway closed, it looked like he barely could keep them opened.

“Попробуй снова,” try again, one of the doctors said. 

Her eyes lingered on the doctor that had just spoken. He looked evil, and she felt in her bones he was. His smile was wicked as his eyes lingered on Bucky struggling to catch his breath tied to that chair. All of the doctors looked sadistic and malefic. She felt goosebumps flood her skin, disgusted by the situation. 

The machine started whirling. An appendix lowered into Bucky’s left eye, another lowering to his right temple. Someone put a protection on his mouth, and she could see Bucky trying to free himself from his ties. Something told her, even in an altered state of mind he was already conditioned to know that noise and that feeling were bad news. She swore she saw his eyes flicker to hers just before everything started. 

The screams - his screams - bounced on the walls and filled her soul in a terrifying way. Tears came to her eyes as she carefully studied what was happening to him. His hands formed fists, his knuckles totally pale on his flesh hand. His eyes were shut violently, his mouth open in a painful way. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she couldn’t. She wanted to hug him and take him out of that awful place, but she couldn't. It was all a memory, it already had happened and she couldn’t do anything about it. 

The doctors recited words in russian repetitively. Her eyes traveled to the doctor holding a red notebook. The wicked smile never faltered, completely ignoring the man in pain in front of him. She felt a urge she had fought so hard to suppress: she wanted to invade their brains, pick them apart and tear them down from the inside. She wanted to scream and shout at them and destroy everything in the room with a single thought. The fact that she was inside a memory and couldn’t physically change anything bothered her little. The anger and sadness she felt were real.

The machine stopped humming and Bucky stopped screaming. When he opened his eyes, she saw something that utterly terrified her. His eyes were empty, devoid of emotion, very much unlike mere seconds before. They were wide open, focused forward, looking beyond the doctor that was hovering over him. 

“Soldat?” one of the doctors asked, a wicked smile forming on his lips.

“Готовы соответствовать,” ready to comply.

The room became blurry and she was sucked out of the memory. She stood there in front of the knot of thoughts. A feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed her, and she willed herself out of her own mind. She shouldn’t have done that, not without his permission. He didn’t even know she could hear his thoughts, much less explore the memories he had left with her. 

She gasped for air as she came back to her senses. Bucky was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and the guilt he carried around with him wasn’t blown out of proportion and unwarranted. He felt as if things he had done, whatever those things were, had been his responsibility. But she knew more about the mind than him, she knew that that person she had watched be tortured was not him. Those eyes told her nothing, and his eyes told her everything and more. Those eyes were from someone who was a puppet, stripped of free will and agency. So maybe his guilt was warranted, but it didn’t mean it was his fault.

She rubbed her face and laid in her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Her heart raced inside her chest, the adrenaline of doing something so wrong settling on her. She would have to be honest with him.  She let a shuddery breath, as she realized she was at the point she avoided when meeting people. The fear of rejection was crushing and familiar and with time she realized it was easier to push people away, not forming connections deeper than trivial than to explain what she was. But Bucky was different, she felt it in her bones. And she wasn’t willing to let him go. #

#

Tuesdays were fuller than Mondays, but only slightly. Maybe one or two more students came in, trying to get ahead of the curve and not procrastinate their studies more than necessary. The amount of work she had was enough to keep her busy throughout the day, even without Tom’s help. 

She hummed the song in her headphones, weaving her way through the shelves, puting the few books that were returned that day back where they belonged. It was the part of her job that gave her the most pleasure. It gave her a sense of control and order, something that had lacked almost her entire life, especially while she was at the Institute. Professor had controlled everything back then. He controlled her and Peter and all the others to be something that most would not have chosen to be if given the choice. It made her feel helpless and tiny. But she had freed herself from that reality, much to Professor’s dislike. And now she could happily find her control in tiny things, like putting books back on their shelves. 

“How come I always come when no one’s at the front desk?”, her headphones fell to her neck as she turned around to look at Bucky. He wore a shy smile on his face, clutching two books tightly in his gloved hands. His thoughts were quieter that day, but still present and loud. She doubted it was enough to give her a headache, but it was enough to leave a mark on her mind.

“Well, I’d say it’s just your luck,” the corners of her mouth quirked up. “Wanna check those out?” she pointed at the books in his hands.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. She started walking towards the front desk, Bucky at her tail. “So, are you better?”

“Yep,” she nodded, getting behind the desk and taking the books out of his hands, “Told you I just needed to rest.”

“Doll,” his head tilted, his eyes carefully analyzing her. She heard worry bounce around his head, “you looked like you were about to drop dead.”

She shook her head, a smile creeping its way to her face. “It’s more common than you think, it’s fine, Bucky, really,” dismissing his worry, like it was the best way to earn his trust. “For whom the Bells tolls? Really diving into the classics, huh?”

“Need some comfort,” he shrugged. “It’s been 80 years since I read these, it felt like the time to re-read.”

“80 years,” she dragged, “You look a lot younger.”

His face became briefly stony, his brain going haywire for a second before he relaxed and gave her an awkward laugh. “You’re a lot funnier when you’re not in pain.”

“Aren’t we all?” she slid the book over to him. “It’s due next week, don’t b--”

“Be late with it, I know,” he completed, “I’ll return it tomorrow. Like always”

She heard words of charm and flattery from his mind. It was a timid voice saying it, if she had been distracted she wouldn’t have heard it. Her eyes trailed downwards, her smile tiny and shy. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re lying.”

“How’d you know better?” his eyes narrowed at her and his head tilted to the side. She found it absolutely charming that he did that when he was confused. 

“I read minds,” she said, seriously, her face impartial, very much unlike mere seconds before. 

“That’s funny,” he laughed, pointing at her. 

She opened an awkward smile at him, looking carefully at his expression. His mind told her he thought she was pranking him, being funny to charm him. She wasn’t. “I know you think I’m trying to charm you,” her eyes looking at her feet, her fingers entwined in a nervous habit, “but I’m not,” she finished, whispering. 

She could hear confusion clearly in his thoughts. It wasn’t exactly at how she could read his mind, more to why she was telling him the fact. “I can hear your thoughts very clearly, they’re very loud,” she whispered. After all these years of experience with this power, it never got easier telling people about it. “And I didn’t think it was fair to listen to your thoughts - you think a lot you know? - all so loudly and clearly,” She couldn’t look at him, her eyes were still cast downwards in shame, “If you want to, I can explain how it is, we can go for a walk or whatever.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her skin, she didn’t dare to look up. Disappointment was one of the things she hated the most, one she had dealt with a lot. Seeing it in his face would surely break her heart, even if only a little bit. “Fine,” she heard him say it, airly, “But you’re paying.”

She looked up and his expression was impassive. But his eyes were twinkling with a sort of curiosity and wonder that could only mean good things. A weird sort of relief washed over her. She let out a sigh, her features relaxing. “Great,” she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “great,” she breathed out, “I just need to close this place.”

“I’ll wait.”

#

#

“Tell me what that boy’s thinking,” he said, pointing to a little boy by the pond feeding the ducks happily. 

Her eyes trailed to the kid, trying to focus on him. It was an exercise she hadn’t done in a while, since she had left the Institute really. “He’s happy he’s with his dad,” she reported, “he doesn’t see his dad often and he misses him.”

“What about the dad?” his hands were in his pockets, his gaze locked on the dad sat on the bench just behind the kid. 

“He’s guilty he doesn’t spend enough time with his son,” she added, her eyes following the posture of the man. His eyes were fixed on his son, watching his every move. It was clear he felt some sort of guilt towards his son, and it was easy to assume that by his stance alone--if you were observant enough. Bucky was, “He works two jobs to pay the child support. He can’t find time between them often.”

 “How do I know that you didn’t just meet those people and they told you their life story?” Bucky questioned, his gaze intense and locked on her. They stopped beneath a tree, orange sun rays peeking from between the leaves. 

“It’s the first time I've ever seen them,” she plopped down beneath the tree, crossing her legs childishly, “I barely leave my apartment.”

He stared at her, his gaze strong and judgmental. Huffing, he calmly got down and sat beside her, his legs spread out in front of him. He crossed his hands on his lap, and her gaze locked at his left hand. She wondered if the arm was still the same as the one she had seen in his memory. That arm sent chills down her spine, it was intimidating and terrifying, the red star staring at her menacingly. “Why, though?”

“I can’t, really,” she shrugged. She looked up, her head tilting to the side, considering her words. “I have these lockdowns when I’m surrounded by too many people. It hasn’t happened in years but,” her eyes closed, the memories of the last lockdown she had flooding back at her. She saw her younger self falling to her knees in the middle of the Institute’s lobby, screaming and clutching her ears, “but it happens, and I’d rather not go through that. I’m not in speaking terms with the person that can help me and I’ll do anything to not talk to him again.”

His lips formed a thin line. A hum trembled his chest, his head resting on the tree behind them. “How much have you seen from…” his jaw clenched, his voice quiet and hesitant. 

“Not much,” she dragged. “I stopped after I realized that I, um, that I was…”she found she couldn’t complete the sentence under his strong gaze. “It wasn’t fair to you for me to see anything, not without you knowing.”

“What did you see?” he gritted through his teeth, his eyes watery and sad. 

“I saw,” she gulped, her voice straining with emotion as she looked deep into his eyes, “I saw you, um, tied to a chair. You were so out of it,” she shook her head, tears flooding her eyes, “you were mumbling your name and some numbers. And then,” she sighed, picking up strength to continue, “and then they - they broke you.”

“What else?” he growled, his hands in fists. His eyes were no longer sad, there was a latent anger in them. It made her sad that she was the cause of his anger, or rather the target. 

“Nothing,” she shook her head, “nothing else. Nothing other than random words from your day to day.”

He considered her for a moment, his eyes hovering her face frantically. She tried her best not to listen to his mind, trying to focus on elsewhere, on someone else. But he was like a magnet, and she could help but to be attracted to him and his thoughts. Words of confusion, anger and infatuation floated in his brain and echoed in hers. “Can you turn it off? Your...thing?” he pointed to her head almost in disdain. She knew better than to believe his gestures.

“Not exactly,” she hugged her legs, her chin resting on her knees. “If I could, I would have, a long time ago.”

They remained in silence after that. He looked at the clouds, considering everything she had just told him. She looked everywhere but at him, trying to stray her mind from him. It felt impossible,  he became her gravity center, and she couldn’t really escape it. She found that she didn’t want to. 

“How did you get the…” he tried to find the right words, “the mind reading thing?”

She laughed at his silly phrasing. “I was born with it,” she looked down at her hands, her cheeks feeling hot. “Professor picked me up and took me to the Institute after I turned 13 because of it.”

“That sounds like a cute way of saying you were kidnapped by the guy,” he commented, his tone serious and his eyes on her. 

“I wasn’t,” she tilted her head towards him, as if she was telling him a secret. “I went willingly, actually. The nightmares were getting worse and the headaches,” her eyes locked with his for a brief second as she brushed a piece of her hair out of her face, “well, headaches like yesterday’s are light ones compared to those. And the Professor, he promised to help me control it.”

“That doesn't sound suspicious at all,” she could hear him roll his eyes in disdain. 

“He did help me,” she assured him, “but at the time, I didn't realize that it would come with a cost.”

“I’m guessing he wanted something out of you,” he inferred, “that you weren’t willing to give.”

“Something like that,” she responded, her voice vague and distant. Remembering the things Professor had planned for her made her scared and, most of all, angry. Angry he dared to think she would be so desperate to abide by his wishes. She had learned that following his plans brought her nothing more than frustration and loneliness, he robbed her and her friends of a stable childhood so they could become his pawns. “He wasn’t a good person.”

“I get that,” he whispered, his head down, looking at his hands. He opened and closed his left hand repetitively. The anger he had felt once she had told him what she had done came back, but directed towards someone else. 

“Listen, Bucky,” she turned her whole body towards him. Her hands itched to grab his, but she knew neither of them were prepared to cross that line, “I’m truly sorry that I… couldn’t control myself. I figured that if I could decipher your thoughts the headaches would stop, but I didn’t realize how much you kept hidden,” she confessed, her fingers fiddling with themselves in a nervous habit. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I want to give you a chance to tell me these things yourself, that’s why I told you.”

He looked at her for a moment before responding. “You told someone who you’d only known for a couple of days your biggest secret,” he recited, almost as if he had been rehearsing the line in his mind over and over, “because you felt bad.”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds foolish,” she grumbled. “I know what’s like not to be given a choice, and I wanted you to have the choice to, you know, walk away from me,” she finished, her voice just above a whisper. She struggled to keep her tears at bay, a couple of them spilling and running down her cheeks. 

“Why would I walk away from you?” he asked her, sincerity in his eyes. 

“You wouldn’t be the first person,” her eyes were cast forward, looking way beyond the park. She didn’t bother cleaning the tears that were rolling down her face. “And you wouldn’t be the last, certainly.”

“Doll,” he dragged, his voice low and beautiful, “I wouldn’t.”

She could barely hear his thoughts over her own. She couldn’t think straight anymore, too many emotions flooded her own senses, it was all too much. Her hands rubbed her eyes, trying to rid them of the tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “But, seriously, don’t tell your biggest secret to someone you barely know.”

She laughed at his suggestion, her smile watery. “I won’t, don’t worry,” her head tilted to the side, her eyes carefully studying his face. It was the first time she truly took him in. His face was so wonderfully beautiful. His nose and his lips were perfect. But it was his eyes that would always fascinate her. So wonderfully blue and so beautifully deep. It was impossible to not fall in love with him with those eyes. 

He got up and brushed his gloves on the sides of his pants. He offered her his right hand, “How’d you say we get that coffee now and you tell me the craziest things you’ve ever seen people think?”

She smiled sincerely at him, her eyes looking up at him in admiration. She took his hand and she let him guide her.

#

#

“Doll, you need to start staying at the front desk,” he leaned casually on the side of the bookcase, looking calmly at her as she turned around to face him. “What if someone important comes in and there’s no one there?

She felt amused at Bucky’s teasing and smiled. “Tom’s supposed to be there, he must have just left to do something,” she stated, smugly. “Besides, you’re the only important person that comes here. At least, to me you are,” she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. 

He bit his lip and looked at her in a way that made her melt. “Aren’t you a charmer.”

She could hear clearly in his thoughts he was amused by her behavior, the word ‘charm’ levitating around her brain. “I learned from the best,” she shrugged brushing past him and walking towards the front desk. 

She heard his heavy footsteps behind her. “Are we still up for tonight?” his voice had an edge that wasn’t there before. She sat down on her chair behind the counter as her eyes carefully analyzed his face. His jaw was tense, his eyebrows were furrowed and his fingers were tight around the book he meant to return. 

“I’ve been up for it every day for the past month, Bucky,” she narrowed her eyes at him. His jaw clenched even more in a way she didn’t know possible. She tried to ignore his thoughts and the words that bounced around her brain. “What are you trying to say?” she asked softly, taking the book from him gently. 

He sighed, resting his elbows on the counter he leaned in. “Sam needs my help,” he said, his voice low and tired. She could tell he wasn’t telling her the full truth, but she didn’t push it. 

“Oh,” she muttered, typing away to return the book he brought. “So you’re cancelling?”

“Doll, I wouldn’t if it wasn’t important,” he stated. She could tell he was sad, his eyes told her so, and so did the words in his head.  It pained her to see him give up their time together. It was cherished by both, and she suspected it was maybe one of the only moments of the day Bucky didn’t have to hold everything in. Mostly because she could see everything he was hiding. 

“Don’t,” she stopped him before he could further apologize. “I understand, an Avenger’s calling you,” she whispered, a devilish smile on her lips, “how could you not answer it?”

“I can think of a lot of ways,” he gritted. He had told her his qualms with Sam Wilson, but it only seemed like friendly teasing and nothing else. Nothing too serious, that's what she judged it to be. 

“Bucky,” she warned him, “there are more important people than me, and Sam is definitely one of those. Don’t feel guilty, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“Y/N,” he never used her first name. He would call her ‘doll’, or ‘love’ or even sometimes ‘sweetheart’, but never by her first name. Hearing it leave his lips sobered her up quickly, “there’s no one more important to me than you.” 

Her mouth hung open in complete shock at his declaration. Her brain short-circuited for a moment, before recomposing herself. She opened her mouth to respond him but he quickly beat her to it. 

“I’m truly sorry, love,” he shook his head, his eyes cast downwards. 

Her eyes hovered him quietly for a second before slipping the book to him. “I extended the due date. Two weeks and nothing more,” she said, sternly. “You know the drill, Bucky.”

“Don’t be late with it, I know,” he recited. His eyes lingered on hers for longer than it normally would. It felt as if he was memorizing her, studying the little details of her face, the little quirks of her personality. She felt heat rising to her cheeks, like every time she was under his intense gaze. He looked downwards for a moment, his mouth slightly opened. “I won’t be gone too long, just a couple of days.”

She got up from her chair and walked to his side. She bit her lip as he watched her go around the front desk. He leaned on his arm, casually standing there as she looked down at her feet in front of him. “You have my number, I’m just a phone call away,” she muttered shyly. She couldn’t handle this flirty interactions with Bucky. Mostly because she would have to juggle her own thoughts with his. But there was something about his demeanor at that moment that put her at ease, she didn’t feel the need to juggle both of their thoughts, only to embrace them. She let herself feel the butterflies and be fully flustered under his charm. It felt nice. “I’m gonna miss you,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, me too,” he looked at her eyes, deeply and soulfully. She didn’t know how she hadn’t melted at the spot. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

The corners of her mouth quirked up. “I know,” her lips brushed his cheek. She quickly kissed it and looked back at him. “You should probably go. Don’t wanna keep Sam waitin’.”

He smiled at her one last time before leaving her. His smile, there was something different about that. It felt sincere and genuine, unlike all his other smiles that were usually caused by awkwardness and embarrassment. She had seen something completely different in that smile, something she couldn’t exactly place yet. 

#

#

She arrived quietly at her apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and flowers for her tiny garden out in the fire-escape. Her upstairs neighbor had complained about it for months, until he joined and now she shared it with him. She had plans to make the whole building to contribute to the little garden, she was almost convincing her downstairs neighbor and she was a pivotal person. 

The apartment was too quiet, unlike normally. There were always whispers of her neighbor’s thoughts echoing through the walls, the busy sounds of the streets, the shouts outside from people going by their day. 

“I know you’re here,” she shouted to her apartment, “you weren’t subtle about it.”

“I knew you wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise,” Professor rolled in. He hadn’t changed a single bit since the last time she had seen him. His clothes were the same, his bald head glistened the same way it did, and his chair was just as stoic as his face. She hated him and seeing him in her apartment only reminded her of that.

“That’s cause I don’t want to talk to you, Professor, I thought I had made myself clear,” she growled, resting the bag and the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Why are you here?”

“It has come to my knowledge you’ve been having your episodes,” he said, robotically. 

“I’m not having any episodes, I'm fine” she muttered, her back turned to Professor. She cursed Peter mentally for being a fucking snitch. Next time she saw him she was going to give him a piece of her mind. 

“You’re not,” he corrected her. As usual, she only heard him in a tone of superiority and condencense, he always knew best. “We know what happens when you let yourself go with other people’s thoughts, child.”

“Don’t call me that,” she gripped the counter, her teeth gritted and her eyes shut. Her hands felt clammy, almost slipping from the counter. She had escaped the Institute, she had sworn she would never go back, for fucking Peter to bring Professor to her again. She knew Peter did it because he was worried. It still didn’t make it sting less. “I said I’m fine, I have everything under control.”

“How long have you been taking the suppressing pills?” he asked her, his voice judgemental and cold. 

She turned around to face him for the first time. He was impossible to read, he always made sure of that. As much as she begged him to teach her how to do it, to help her block out thoughts and stop people from getting into her head, he never really did it. She had to discover for herself, and, in that, she never was as effective as him. “It’s none of your business,” she scoffed. “It’s not like I’m of any use to you anymore, Professor. I’m sure you have a brand new shiny pawn you can play with that’s even better than I was. Besides,” she added, crossing her arms on her chest, “you gave me those pills.”

“They’re for emergencies only, Y/N, not continuous use,” he shook his head at her, his piercing through hers, She looked down avoiding his gaze, her jaw tight. Her head started to feel heavy, and she didn’t know if it was his prying or something worse. “Do you remember the last time you used those same pills continuously?”

Her teeth gritted and she closed her eyes to stop him from seeing the tears accumulating in them. She looked at him, her eyes completely angry and full of hurt, “I'm a lot stronger that I was back then,” she gritted. 

“Bad things happen when you repress your power,” Professor warned, leaning on his knees. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I haven't taken them in days.” she stated, trying to keep her head focused and her voice free of emotion. Professor considered her for a moment. She could feel him prying in her head, searching for traces of a lie well told. She knew he wouldn’t find any, she told the truth, even if it was half of it. 

“I know you’re not telling everything,” he told her, his hands fiddling with the orange vial temptevely. “What are you hiding?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. When she was younger, she wouldn’t even consider behaving badly around him. Now, she knew better. “I don’t owe you any explanations, Professor. I don’t even understand why are you here,” she pointed accusingly at him. “You've done a pretty good job showing you don’t care all my life, I find it hard to believe you care now.”

His eyes found hers, as always completely unreadable. But she saw the little details, the way his jaw tightened slightly, the way his fingers opened and closed the cap of the bottle nervously. It was hard to tell if the tick was fabricated or not, she could never tell with him. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll be in touch,” he wheeled himself towards the door. 

“Please don’t,” she said clearly as he exited her apartment.

As the door closed she let a shuddery breath, laying on her couch in exhaustion. She let a couple of tears fall from her eyes, quickly drying them after. She had cried because of Professor too many times in her life, she would not cry for him one more time. 

Her phone vibrated on her back pocket. She sniffed and fished out, checking what was the cause of the notification. ‘Just arrived. Call me’ from Bucky. Her heart picked up, smiling at her phone happily. 

It rang a couple of times before he picked up. “You’re late,” she said, before he had the chance to say anything to her, “you said a couple of days.”

“I’m sorry, doll,” he breathed out, “it took longer than anticipated.”

“It’s okay,” she shook her head, a smile on her face. “The book, though, you’re gonna have to pay a fee for being late.”

He laughed at the other end of the line. “First time I ever return it late, can’t you make an exception for me?”

“I didn’t do anything, it was Tom,” she stated quickly. Her lips adorned a permanent smile, so much it barely seemed Professor had just left her apartment. They stayed quiet before anyone said anything.

“I missed you,” he whispered, her heart racing in her chest as he recited the words. 

“I missed you too,” she replied back, her voice soft and full of emotion. She tried to contain her tears, an accumulation of feelings from just before and that moment but she couldn’t. “I was so lonely, I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Me too, love,” he sighed on the other end of the line. She could imagine him looking down at his feet, a silly smile on his lips. His eyes were twinkling in her mind the way that melted her, he looked absolutely beautiful as usual. “Do you want to go out? I owe you 2 weeks worth of coffee.”

She looked at the ceiling, trying to contain her heart and failing miserably. “Yeah, yeah, I’d like that,” she breathed out. 

“I’ll pick you up in 20.”

She hung up the phone and got up from her couch, a silly smile on her face. Her smile soon faded after she realised what she had done. She was only off the pills for 2 days, it wasn’t enough time for her powers to normalize. Without Bucky present, the abstinence wasn’t as noticeable. Sure, she could hear everything more clearly, the music her neighbor had stucky in his head, or the busy thoughts of a random person passing on the sidewalk. But Bucky always had a thousand things in his head, and that surely would be a problem. 

She was telling the truth to the Professor. She wasn’t taking them continuously, only a couple of times a week, when Bucky’s thoughts were always the loudest. But she hadn’t told him that she had stopped so late, later than she should have. She was toeing the line again, just like she had done when she was a kid and the prospect of not listening to everyone all the time seemed too good to be true. 

A sigh escaped her lips, her heart racing inside her chest, not for the right reasons. She hoped she could control it, keep her latent power at bay just like she did everyday. It was easy to fool herself like that. She forgot how addicting Bucky could be, how wrapped up in him she would get. It was almost an experiment: how would she deal with Bucky’s mind when her power was at the most raw. She wondered if she should be curious or scared. 

Her hands sweated as she unpacked her groceries. A cold rush ran through her spine, and she remembered the symptoms she experienced the last time she was off the pills. Dread settled in her, anticipating what was about to come. She cursed Professor, her stupid mutated gene and those fucking pills. She often wondered what would have happened if she never manifested any powers, how her life would have played out. 

Then, her senses were flooded by Bucky. She whipped around to the door, seeing the shadow of his feet lingering outside. Her head felt heavy and there was a pain blooming, something much worse than the ones she’d endured when she first met him. It was a side effect, she should have expected that. She leaned on her table for a moment, trying to get used to the pain. The knock echoed through her apartment. She barely registered it, his thoughts flooding her. It was all so incoherent, flashes of yellowed memories and newer ones ran through her head. She heard her name screamed in his head over and over again, his voice whispering pet names he had given her with images of their time together. 

She opened the door and there he was, standing in front of her. He wasn’t wearing his traditional gloves, and he had dodged the leather jacket of a simple longed sleeved t-shirt pulled at his elbows. It was the first time she saw his arm being displayed so freely, so unashamedly. He wore a boyish smile on his face, holding a bouquet of yellow and purple flowers meant for her. “I brought you flowers,” he handed the bouquet to her, his eyes twinkling with a charm she hadn’t seen in him before.  “You said you wanted to expand your garden,” he justified with a shrug, his eyes on the bouquet. The smile never left his lips. 

She almost forgot about her symptoms, letting his charm encapsulate her and warm her heart. She accepted the flowers, their smell overwhelming her. She stepped aside for him to come in, he ducked his head and got in the apartment quietly. It wasn’t the first time he had been over, but it was still odd to see him in her place. It looked smaller with him in it, less lonely. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing the door. Her hands glued to the plastic wrapping of the flowers. She wiped her other hand on her pants, gulping nervously. If before she thought his thoughts were loud, in that moment it seemed like they were being blasted in amplifiers at maximum volume. “How’ve you been?” she stuttered, her mouth dry. 

“I’m good, good,” he laughed looking down, his hands on his pockets. She could tell he wasn’t lying, for the first time she asked him that question he actually answered it honestly.  “How are you, doll?”

She grabbed a pot and some dirt to stick the bouquet in it from the cabinet under the kitchen island. “I’m okay,” she replied quietly. Resting the supplies next to the sunflower she had just bought, a wave of nausea washed over her. She felt the color drain out of her face, feeling lightheaded. Her hands gripped tightly around the backrest of a chair, trying to not collapse to the floor. 

She heard him rush to her side, his hands supporting her. The cool touch of his metal arm was contrastant with how hot her skin felt at the moment. “You don’t look okay,” it was like he was yelling in her ear, but she knew his voice was barely above a whisper. “What happened?”

“I’m off my pills,” she gripped his forearms, her eyes shut close. She tried organizing her head, separating her own thoughts with the thoughts of others. 

“Let me get them for you,” he guided her to the couch, gently sitting her down. 

“No,” she reached for him, her voice dying in her throat. Her hold on his wrist was weak, her eyes closed. The light only worsened her headache, she couldn’t bear to open her eyes. “There’s none left.”

“What d’you mean there’s nothing left?” he asked her, his voice strained. She knew he tried to contain his worry, but it slipped out in his tone. If she wasn’t so sick, she would have appreciated his care. “It seems like something important to have.”

“Professor took ‘em,” her words slurred, “I can’t take more, Bucky.”

“Why?” he hesitated, “what happened?”

“My powers,” her jaw clenched at the sharp pain going through her head, “I just wanted to spend time with you, Bucky, but the pain…” the tears spilled from her eyes, her eyes still closed. The grip on Bucky was tight, she was holding onto him like he was her lifeline, the only thing grounding her to the real world and not her head. 

He sat beside her, his hands hovering over her, unsure of what to do. She heard a sliver of guilt going through him, and sadness overwhelmed her because of that. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. 

“No,” she shook her head, wrapping him up in her arms, “it’s my fault. You’re amazing, Bucky, and I couldn’t stay away,” her tears wet his shirt, her head resting on his shoulder snuggly. She couldn’t help but notice the safe feeling that overwhelmed her in that moment. It was almost like it was where she belonged, safe in his arms. “Your mind… it’s just so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, Bucky. And I was greedy, I wanted you to myself, even if it meant a little pain.”

“A little?” he asked, his voice laced with a sassiness she hadn’t seen before. 

She laughed quietly, looking at his face. His blue eyes were sincere, full of emotion and thoughts she could never bring herself to decipher. “A lot,” she sighed, her eyes fixated on his.  “I fell back into old habits.”

“I get it,” he assented, his eyes cast on hers, looking for something she didn’t quite know what it was. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay,” she whispered, her heart beating fast inside her. “Please, stay.”

And Bucky did. For the first time, someone who had met her, all of her, stayed with her. That only made her love him more. He hugged her tightly, his head resting on the crook of her neck. “I’ll stay,” he reassured her, his thumb caressing her shoulder gently, “I got you”

She mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ like a prayer on his shoulder. It was too much input, her own emotions and his blended and her tears were their escape. “I shouldn’t have unloaded this on you,” she sniffed, breaking the hug. “It’s not fair.”

“Hey,” he gently pushed her hands out of her face. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red, but she could tell he didn’t care, she heard the word ‘beautiful’ bounce around in his head. “I can take it.”

She shook her head, words unable to escape her quivering lips. “Hey, stop,” he said firmly but lovingly, “listen to me,” he grabbed her face delicately, his fingers brushing her cheeks delicately. “I can take it, doll. Trust me. I have my demons too,” he whispered, “and they don’t scare you. You don’t scare me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. The sincerity in them disarmed her completely, the little restraint she had completely gone. Her breath hitched at the sight of the glimmer in his eyes and the love in his mind. “Thank you,” she mouthed, her voice gone. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled at her, the boyish grin he had sported when he arrived back. “How about I make you some tea?” he got up, walking a few steps to the kitchen. He moved around like her tiny little flat was where he belonged. “I make a mean chamomile tea.”

She laughed quietly, her brain slowly calming down, her fever settling. “I’d like that.”

[allmightluver]

So, what is your take on the EM relationship? Who was the one to fall first and confess? Please support your speculations/opinions with canonical evident, if you'd like 😏 (BECAUSE YOU'RE SO DAMN GOOD AT IT ❤️) Thank you for your time 🙏

Oh goodness

You really want me to go all out huh Kunshi 😏

Well, I’ll try to summarize this as best I can ***(This may have some spoilers so be warned)**

The relationship between All Might and Eraserhead has been quite the journey. You can say, frenemies to “hey you’re not so bad”. They’ve known of each other for years, before the present timeline. Here in Vigilante’s, Eraserhead tells Tsukauchi that the situation they’re in is so dire, they need the Number 1. Aizawa acknowledges how powerful All Might is, despite disapproving of how handles media and fame.

But they didn’t really know each other until All Might started at UA. 

Aizawa believed Yagi to be reckless, irresponsible, and foolish in taking a job he has no training for. Not to mention the obvious favoritism. Yagi believed Aizawa to be too harsh and cold hearted on the children. Though as the two got to know each other, and went through traumatic events together (USJ and Kamino), they started to warm up more to each other, actually taking the time to get to know one another. 

All Might rushes to an injured Aizawa’s side, and the sight of how broken, bloodied and damaged his co-worker is visibly upsets him. The way Toshinori’s voice softens as he apologizes to Aizawa, unclear if it’s out loud or in his mind. Toshinori probably feels terrible whenever anyone’s been injured, but he seems particularly held up over Aizawa, most likely because he himself couldn’t be there when it happened. He was of being a hero all morning, and wasted all his time in his muscle form, so he wasn’t there with them like he should have been. Which meant Aizawa and (Thirteen) had to fight to protect the students, even if they were clearly unmatched. They were both badly injured in the process, all because Toshinori wasn’t there.

Then after the fight, Toshinori cuts his friend, Tsukauchi, off and asks how Aizawa, wait, Eraserhead, is doing. Oh and Thirteen too. He was relieved to find he they were alright.

When Kamino hit we see how intently Aizawa watches the news, watches All Might, watches Toshinori. He was clearly concerned, and in seeing AFO summon his many quirks in order to eliminate All Might once and for all, Aizawa’s concern only grows. And for good reason.

As an after effect, the students needed to move into dorms. Aizawa and Toshinori are paired together to speak to 1A’s students. It’s in the car that Aizawa, awkwardly, offers to buy Toshinori a drink. To which Toshinori politely declines, as he can’t drink. (*face palm*) 

However, after dealing with Bakugo’s...different family, Toshinori nudges Aizawa with an elbow his injured arm no less, and whispers that he now owes Aizawa a drink. 

Dunno about you, but I’d have to be pretty comfortable with someone before I’m close enough to nudge them and whisper secrets. And Toshinori is always seeking to know Aizawa better, be closer, impress him.

They even go out on a date to get a drink together.  Toshinori’s inner dialogue is the most interesting, from “I’m going to be even better friends with Aizawa-kun...!” to “All Might, you just gotta push past the walls of Aizawa-kun’s heart!” ...uh huh. To which Mic and Midnight totally crash their “Secret Dinner Outing” and invite themselves to stay, much to Toshinori’s (”Or on second thought...probably not then.”) and Aizawa’s despair (”Go home!” x3). Get outta here, you’re ruining our date!  And after Toshinori takes his leave, Aizawa chases him down outside to say....? “Thank you very much. I’m drunk right now so I probably wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t. But because you fought at Kamino and took down AFO for us, I’ll do my part and look after the students as much as I can. That’s why I want to thank you for everything.” To which after a silence, Toshinori responds with, “Aizawa-kun, let’s watch over the students from here on out together.” ...to which Aizawa mentions he won’t remember any of this and to never bring it up ever again.  (*repeat face palm*)

This only proves they’re becoming much, much, closer. They’ve gone beyond plus ultra frenemies and onto true friends. They take each other’s words and thoughts into account in a serious manner, like how Yagi managed to convince Aizawa to let him go to Bakugo and Midoriya when they snuck out, as well as going easy on punishment for them.

Aizawa’s also shown growing concern for Toshinori after his retirement. Firstly from seeing Toshinori out and about so soon after Kamino while he was still recovering from his injuries. And on the occasion a falling rock nearly connects to Toshinori’s head, you can see how quickly Aizawa reacts. The way you can almost see a flashback of his childhood friend’s unfortunate death running through his head as he tries to save Toshinori from the same fate. Once Midoriya saves Toshinori, Aizawa still reaches out to him, like he’s worried the man may get hurt, break, as he tells him that it’s not safe in this environment, and that Toshinori should leave, go where it’s safe.

When Aizawa couldn’t attend Bakugo and Todoroki’s extra classes, he asks Toshinori to go in his place, and even makes Present Mic go along as a body guard. He’s clearly concerned for the former hero’s safety and well-being. Toshinori now often fills in for Aizawa if he can’t make it to his own class.

When Midoriya’s new quirk is discovered, Aizawa takes Toshinori’s anxiety about the situation seriously, and they immediately go to put a stop to the training battle. 

But once Midoriya’s quirk settles down, Aizawa decides to let this play out, and calms Toshinori, saying he’ll put a stop to it if the situation happens again.

He later describes Toshinori as a genius, naturally talented, when explaining to Shinsou how he doesn’t expect the kid to be on the same level with the others in the hero course right off the bat. Aizawa has extreme respect for Toshinori.

The biggest moment between the two is late on a snowy night, when Toshinori sits outside in the cold, alone, contemplating...well, his life honestly. Aizawa find’s him, “there you are,” apparently looking for the taller man. Toshinori at first automatically deflects any questions about himself, and asks about the children. He then offers to help Aizawa with training Eri, in which the underground hero gladly accepts (something that Aizawa would not have done in the past, as he hated even speaking to the older man before). But Aizawa can see through the façade, and asks what’s wrong. Aizawa is one of, if not the only, person Toshinori confides in so deeply.  Horkioshi confirmed recently that of everyone (adults, I assume), pro heroes included, Toshinori is the closest to Aizawa. Toshinori decides he can trust Aizawa with his mental weights. He’s decided to live, but feels useless staying alive, powerless, unable to help anyone, or at least how the children need him to. 

Aizawa’s initially unnerved at the fact that Toshinori decided to live, as if the contemplation of otherwise was there. But he listens quietly, intently, to what Toshinori says. Finally, he tries to reason with the older man that being a workaholic, and never having time to rest, isn’t good either, points out that after holding up the country for decades, suddenly not having it has left an addiction. Toshinori doesn’t know what to do if he’s not running himself ragged. But also tells him that he is helping the students--by being alive, and by being here for them. There are a lot of people (Aizawa included?) that gain strength, just by Toshinori being there, alive. And he asks him to please keep on living and acting like his normal self. Toshinori’s overcome with emotion at his words.

For a relationship between the two, I’m sure they both would have had feelings for quite some time before ever admitting to it. Knowing their personalities, Aizawa would feel his feelings were illogical and deceptive. Toshinori is just a tad older than him, has met probably thousands more people than Aizawa ever will, and he was the number one hero. Falling for a guy like that just seemed too predictable and annoying. But Aizawa soon learns the differences between All Might and Toshinori, and while the latter still rubs him the wrong way at times, the tall, willowy man has managed to capture his heart. He feels compelled to care for the other, make sure he’s taking proper care of himself. And yet he tells himself it’s too invasive of the other man’s privacy; none of his business. When Mic and Midnight drag him to the bar and question him why his mood was off, he’d give no answer save for a shrug, and down another beer.

Toshinori would have feelings rather early, but most likely not realize they were more than just finally getting the grouchy Aizawa-kun to tolerate him. As weeks go by, he would catch his heart racing at Aizawa’s presence, blushing when the scruffy man would make tea for him after a coughing fit, and way too elated when Aizawa accepted the invitation for a drink together, alone. One night it would hit him just exactly how he feels for the younger man, and his heart would clench. Surely Aizawa couldn’t feel the same way, especially for a man as old, sickly, and awkward as himself. Even if it were possible, his own death is due to come within the next year, and he couldn’t do that to Aizawa-kun. He’d spend several nights fighting and eventually failing to quietly let his tears fall into the pillow below him as he tries to sleep, alone.

The two would cautiously work together, stepping around their own feelings to keep things normal between them. All the while Aizawa’s brain would fight against his heart, and Toshinori’s chest would tighten until a bloody cough was produced.

Finally, finally, after Mic and Midnight pry it out of Aizawa like a game of Operation, they force him to ask Toshinori out. It takes a week, but Aizawa finally finds the right moment to ask the former hero out for a drink and bar food. Glamorous as always, especially for a first date. But Toshinori gladly accepts, and spends the rest of the day convincing himself it’s just a friendly supper, between friends, not a date.

That night the two have a lovely evening of greasy bar food (which Toshinori politely only orders a small plate of fries, as there’s nothing blander on the menu) and beer (Toshinori also drinks a plain water). Aizawa apologizes for not taking Toshinori’s diet into account when picking where they met, and says he’ll let Toshinori pick the restaurant next time. Toshinori freezes at his wording. Aizawa’s quick to try and resolve, but Toshinori stops him. Asks him what exactly this is. A friendly dinner? Or something more? Aizawa buries into his scarf, and answers with a question in return; what do you want it to be? It’s then Toshinori sets his glass down, takes a moment to breathe, before spilling that he’d hoped it was a date. He’s bright red as he explains how he believes he’s developed...feelings over the months working together. That he wanted to go out again, but that he hadn’t wanted to force his feelings on Aizawa. Who would want someone like him?

These two have so much chemistry. They’ve been through so much together already: disagreements, near deaths, critical injuries, awkward moments of a budding friendship, talking each other off the ledge. In all the ships of the series, EraserMight has one of the most obvious connections and chemistries.

[falsegoodnight]

these are the fics I read or reread and enjoyed this month! like last time, i’m separating it into different sections: main list, podfics, wips, and non-1d. rereads will be included in the main list and marked with *.

*note: this list encompasses the fics i’ve read from the 1st to the 25th and any fics read after will be included in next month’s fic rec list because otherwise this is going to be obnoxiously long. 

—

main list ~

✰ black cherries and chocolate by @harryanthus​ | NR | 666 (intense and jarring in the best way. this leaves you with that heart-racing feeling and panic crawling up your throat)

There is something or well, someone in the walls.

✰ keep secrets just to keep you by @hadestyles​ | T | 1k (loved this so much!! and need 1000000 more royalty abos from rori immediately)

“With the elements as my witness, I take you to be my husband. My heartbeat begins with you and ends with you, Louis Tomlinson.” Louis sinks to his knees as well, salty tears mixing with the pure rainwater. “And I take you as mine. My heart beats for you and with you.”

✰ bitter coffee and sweet love by @dontfuckwithmyotp​ | G | 1k (so cute and sweet!! proud of you ari for getting your first fic out and excited to see what you do next!)

“Hello! Welcome to The Busy Bean! Are you new?” Louis blinked in surprise at the voice and looked around to find the source. “Behind you,” The person tapped his shoulder once and he whirled around at the unexpected touch.

“Hey! Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to interrupt a person—” His rant stopped when he finally faced them. It was a guy—Harry Styles, according to his small black name tag. His eyes widened in embarrassment.

✰ turn your mic off, baby by @vogueharrystan​ | E | 2k (i love when lilli writes harry’s pov. this was so hot!)

Louis walks around the house naked all day and ignores Harry to play video games instead. Harry gets tired of it.

✰ This Could Be Love by mulletharry | G | 2k (such a cute and perfect little valentine’s day fic! put the biggest smile on my face <3)

Harry and Louis have been together for four months. They spend their first Valentine’s Day together.

✰ you appear as my soul by @hadestyles​​ | T | 2k (so gorgeous and raw)

He aches — not as much as Louis, he could never imagine all that he bears quietly — and as cruel as it sounds, it keeps reminding him of how fragile they are.

✰ the energy from your body by sweetielouis | E | 3k (hilarious, hot, and cute!)

Harry and his friends have a popular podcast, for the Valentines Day special they get a bit drunk and talk a bit too comfortably about their friends arses.

It's a good thing Louis doesn't mind it all that much. 

✰ look how i remember by @harryanthus​ | M | 4k (this left me speechless and aching)

He hates it, he wants to scream and tell Harry as much. Kiss me like you mean it. Kiss me as if we are in love. Kiss me like you will never do it again. Kiss me with so much hatred that it turns back to love.

✰ Things Unsaid by @londonfoginacup​ | G | 5k (so so cute and funny!!)

"That chunky oversized sweater is like a clown outfit made for winter."

It feels like time slows down.

Those words echo in his mind, familiar. Why are they familiar? The— the sweater he saw last week. The one with all the knit squares.

The train slows to a stop and Louis just— he doesn’t move. He feels frozen in place as people surge around him. Suddenly everyone is moving too fast and then just as suddenly the car is near empty, taking off again.

The man is gone.

His soulmate is gone.

✰ reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress​ | E | 4k (adorable and funny and amazing!)

Harry's Google search history may or may not look like 'my girlfriend doesn't know we're dating.'

✰ dancing in the moonlight by @outropeace​ | E | 5k (need 100k more of this immediately, thanks. so wonderful)

Louis’ fuck buddy gets a date for Valentine’s day and he discovers that denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.

✰ The truth is, the stars are falling by larrysbeanies | E | 5k (hot!!! walking-in trope that i love so much)

Harry knows Louis is gay. Hell, he came out to Harry exactly two months ago (when the dreadful dry spell started) because it was becoming increasingly hard to hide the fact that his one night stands were men. And, you know, they’re best friends so there aren’t supposed to be secrets and all that.

Thing is, Louis told Harry he’s gay ergo, Harry is aware that Louis likes men. Why the fuck did he act so normal while fingering him three days ago, then? Is this something straight guys do to their gay best friends in Harry’s world?

Louis would really like to know.

✰ to be used and to be in love by @thelesserneptune​ | E | 5k (blessed that this is a series. really hot and cute!)

Louis doesn't know why his filthy best friend turned into a vanilla boyfriend and thinks of the perfect birthday present to solve that problem.

✰ on the borderline by @princelouisau​ | E | 8k (the way danielle writes... poetry. this broke me down and then stitched me back up <3)

Louis makes his choice.

✰ One Step Closer by agrinwithouthiscat | G | 12k (reading asexual hl fics is instant comfort and this was lovely)

The one fake relationship AU where they don't end up together.

✰ i glow pink in the night by @raspberryoatss​ | E | 12k (hybrid louis perfection, beautiful writing, characters, and story as always!)

Harry reads a lot of articles about hybrids and Louis is determined to prove them wrong.

✰ The Thinker of Tender Thoughts by @speakingwithink | G | 13k (asexual hl again! this one made me cry) 

Louis sits on his hands to stop them from shaking as he adds, ‘and I’m ace.’ If only he had glitter, he thinks. Coming out deserves a bit of sparkle.

✰ Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice by @harriblou​ | M | 13k (enemies with benefits to lovers goodness! so hot and entertaining)

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.”

Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing.

“You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

✰ hold onto your stars by vashtaneradas | NR | 16k (this writer’s atmosphere/prose draws me in every time. such a lovely story)

Harry's in the army, Louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

✰ The Future is Now by @jacaranda-bloom​ | E | 16k (love fics in this five times format and this one was so unique and cool!! and the friends to lovers aspect = chef’s kiss)

Five times Louis follows the fortunes to seek out his true love, and the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.

✰ Visceral Heat & Carnal Highs by @theisolatedlily​ | E | 18k (the prose in this... gorgeous. so fucking good and addicting. delighted that there’s going to be a sequel and excited for whatever lily does next!)

Louis is a demon at a house party prowling for a meal, indulging in horrendous sins to satisfy his hunger. Harry is the talk of the night, beckoning all eyes on him and the reason why Louis’s plan goes awry.

✰ deFENCEless by @solvetheminourdreams​ | T | 27k (this was so cute and so funny and i had the biggest smile on my face the entire time. not surprised since stef always evokes that in me with her writing)

When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

✰ darling, you give love a bad name by snowcaplou | M | 29k (been waiting for this one since summer and i wasn’t disappointed! so wonderful and real!)

Louis’ has been best friends with Gemma all his life in this stupid little town he’s grown to hate. What happens when, after one night together with his best friend’s brother, he falls pregnant? Surrounded by small minds and conservative cultures, Louis has to deal with parents that demand they do the “right” thing. Get married before anybody finds out.

✰ The Haunting of Louis Tomlinson* by @helloamhere​ | T | 31k (will never not be an all-time favorite. louis’ character is my absolute favorite - gothic heroine indeed - and harry is the best dramatic gay ghost ever <3)

Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

✰ begged and borrowed time by @bottomlwt​ | M | 40k (this concept was so unique and so cool!! loved the medieval setting and the time travel and how everything fit together in the end!!)

“It wasn’t until 1568 that it became time for Prince Harry to find a queen and prepare to rule. However, the day he was set to choose his bride-to-be, he mysteriously disappeared, never to be seen again despite the multiple search parties that went on through the years. To this day, historians still do not know what happened with the infamous Prince Styles case..."

✰ Lidocaine and Palm Trees.* by @daddyharrie​ | E | 45k (definition of ris comfort read - on nth reread and still love it wholly. makes me miss la which is an astonishing feat in itself) 

Heat, fake tans and lots of traffic.

Harry never expected to earn his living this way when he moved to LA.

Louis didn't think he could ever be the same after his divorce.

A lighthearted story about two guys trying to find themselves in the vibrant, sprawling city of Los Angeles, with a side of technical porn industry stuff.

✰ haunted by the ghost of you* by @missandrogyny​ | E | 49k (perhaps my favorite fic of all time? the humor, the characters, the angst?!?! all the britney spears!! and pink ouija boards and wikihow!!)

He’s tall—that’s the first thing that registers in Louis’ head when he spots him, standing with his hands behind his back. Tall, with curly hair, staring at them with the widest, greenest eyes Louis has ever seen. And wait, are those dimples? Louis didn’t know ghosts could have dimples.

Because he’s definitely a ghost, this boy. At first glance he looks normal, standing there pigeon-toed in a band shirt (The Ramones, Louis can’t help but note incredulously), dark jeans, and some boots, with rings on both hands, and tattoos littering his left arm—a sleeve made of anchors and names and roses and other completely unrelated things. But he’s also a little bit translucent; if Louis focuses, he can see the outline of the furniture, the design of the wallpaper through him.

“Hi,” the boy—the ghost—says to Louis. His face shifts; somehow his dimples dig deeper into his cheeks. His eyes flit from Louis, to Niall, to Liam, and finally to Zayn, and his face goes from shocked to elated. “I’m Harry.”

At in that exact moment, standing between three of his best friends and staring at a (quite handsome) ghost, Louis can only think one thing.

Nick Grimshaw was right.

✰ like real people do by @eeveelou​ | E | 64k (this was... so amazing. the characters were so wonderfully written and so was the journey of healing and growth that louis undertakes over the story :’) loved the contrast between l and h’s lives and how they fit into each other still so perfectly)

Jessica Jones AU in which the dead stay where they belong, featuring Zayn as the high-powered lawyer with a hopeless crush on his assistant Liam, Niall as the constantly stoned but strangely insightful neighbor, Harry as Manhattan’s media darling, and Louis as the never-was hero who’s just trying to pick up the pieces.

✰ Black With Autumn Rain by whimsicule | T | 93k (i actually can’t remember if i’ve read this before??? either way - it was wonderful! loved the setting and atmosphere and the supernatural elements! i was so intrigued from the first sentence onwards)

Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren’t exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

podfics ~

✰ tall stories on the page by @soldouthaz​ & read by @softlouislove​ | T (hannah’s voice is so lovely and perfect for reading aloud - and ofc the fic itself is amazing)

Harry's tired of being interviewed by people that only care about the same pointless gossip. Louis is a nice change of pace. 

wips ~

✰ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by @lwtisloved​ | E | 60k | 6/16 (just caught up fully today but i’m really enjoying everything! this is everything i’ve ever wanted in a fantasy fic)

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

✰ ‘cause all our tomorrows lead the way by @loubellies​ | E | 39k | 3/10 (having a blast reading this one!! i’ve never seen the bachelor in my life but in fic-format, it’s so fun!)

So maybe Louis’ in over his head.

He had signed up for the Bachelor on a whim after his second bottle of wine and well, here he is. He’s just been announced as the twenty-sixth Bachelor and his ass is sweating. Like, literally sweating. He’s positive that if he was to turn around, the entirety of Bachelor Nation would get a nice peek of his ass sweat.

✰ The Night Still Whispers Sins of Old by @toomanydreamers​ | E | 6k | 2/? (loving this so much, as expected. can’t wait to see how everything unfolds)

Two and a half years have passed since the fateful day when Louis and Harry were crowned Triwizard champions. Confronted with misunderstandings, wounded pride and heartache, Louis stumbled away from the possibility of a future relationship with Harry. Instead, he buried himself into relentless work as a junior Auror and refused to let himself be vulnerable with another person. Circumstances change that force Louis to confront his feelings - and Harry. Stolen glances, picnics at sunrise, thrilling adventures, original spellwork, midnight feasts, soft lips and cautious second chances culminate in an unforgettable mission - but will it be enough to mend their relationship?

non-1d ~

✰ like a bullet needs a gun by @millsxwriting​ | T | 21k | wilds au (despite me having no context, mills still got me to fall in love with toni and shelby. this was so cute and lovely!!)

Toni doesn’t expect to fall for anyone in her senior year. Least of all for Shelby Goodkind, the new girl that arrived in town just before the end of summer. In fact, Toni can’t even look at her for longer than two seconds, or listen to more than three sentences coming out of her mouth without wanting to accidentally push her off a cliff. 

Cue a group project and endless bickering, and suddenly Toni finds herself with an unbearable crush.

If you read any of these beautiful works of art, remember to leave kudos and comment to show your appreciation!

*if i made any errors, please let me know :)

enjoy!

[creativeashproductions]

Lost Time II // Luke Patterson

Summary: Weeks after discovering his greatest joy Luke visits his former girlfriend to make up for the lost time. Unable to do it alone his band gives their support to find her and stand by his side as he faces his greatest regret.

Warning: Talk of death, allusion to homophobic parents, teen pregnancy and angst

Words: 3.1k

The book Midnight Club by Christopher Pike came out in 1994 but to fit this fic the book came out in 1993. Also, Alex’s last name will be Mitchell in this.

*For the sake of the story the time frame has been altered, it takes place in the mid-2000s. Also! I tried to make the reader as generalized as I could to make sure that everyone can relate. The reader is Alex’s sister, for inclusion that can be biological, adopted, half or stepsiblings. I want to make sure all people can be the reader.

A/N: Jesus I love Ben with my entire heart and I am a cruel person to have ripped Luke and Ben from each other before they had a chance. Enjoy!

Part One

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1993

A sunny summer day spent outside reading a new book that had come out recently nestled in your hands under the large tree. The tree that had many tire swings before your parents caved to get a swing set. Now the tree was a companion on lovely days providing shade under the hot sun.

Alex was at band practice with the rest of Sunset Curve in the garage, or studio as Luke deemed it. More often than not, you would be in the studio watching them rehearse, but things changed, things had gotten more serious with Luke in the past six or so months. Plus, Bobby seriously was someone you wanted the least amount of time spent with.

“Hey.” Luke sighed, dropped on the faded blanket you had settled on. Raising one finger, you finished the page before placing the bookmark in.

“Hi.” You grinned leaning in as he pressed a kiss to your soft lips, “Used my Chapstick again?”

Luke hid his face in the crook of your neck, “I’m addicted to it, or it’s just your lips.”

He snuck another kiss before nudging you to adjust lay against his chest between his legs, a familiar position. One where you could read a book, and he could wrap his one arm around you while he wrote in his songbook with the other. God, you loved the boy with your entire heart.

“How’s the book?”

“It’s okay.”

“What’s it about?” Luke asked, wrapping his arms around your midsection.

“Five terminally ill teens living in a hospice tell scary stories every night. They all made a pact together that whoever died first would have to try to contact the others.” You sighed, dropping the book beside you to rest your arms on his.

“Sounds depressing.” Luke hummed, pressing a kiss to your neck, “I can think of more exciting things to do.”

“Over my dead body.” Alex snickered walking passed the young couple on his walk to the house. Reggie following after him with a laugh of his own; it was still odd to see Luke so loved up.

“I was talking about going to a concert!” Luke called out as his friends entered the Mitchell house, leaving the couple alone.

“You totally were not.” You spoke already knowing the answer as Luke nodded his head, “It’s a shock he lets us be alone.”

Turning to face Luke, you couldn’t help the blush that grew from the soft look in his eyes that you had only noticed after he asked you out. The boy had had a crush for a long time even if it was awkward given the previous thing he had with Alex.

“He’ll have to get used to it.”

“So, have you gotten a gig at The Orpheum yet?” You asked, shifting again to nestle against his side content to spend the time there in the backyard.

“Nah, we booked some smaller venues, but we’ll get there. I know it.” Luke was completely confident that one day he would be playing in the most popular venues. The other thing he was confident was his relationship.

“Where will I be?” You spoke looking at the recently turned sixteen-year-old boy who had quickly become the most important thing in your life. Never expected to fall in love with Alex’s ex-fling.

“Cheering us on. Have to have my number one supporter and wife because she’s been there since the dream began. The dream just expanded?”

 “Wife?” You breathed.

“I’m not dating you just to date. I’m dating you because when I dream of my future, you are right there next to me.” Luke admitted caressing your cheek the pad of his thumb, “Wherever in the world, we find ourselves I want you there.”

“What about kids?”

“We’ll have as many as you want. Or however many we are lucky to have.” Luke breathed growing more excited as he finally revealed his ideas and firm belief, “Of course I want to be married first. After The Orpheum I want the next thing to focus one hundred percent on is a wedding that you deserve and-“

“Ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me.” You raised to your knees cradling his face in your hands, “That’s what I dream of too. Having a career but something that lets me travel with the love of my life and my chosen family.”

“It’s not how I want…I want it to be special and romantic because you deserve it.” Luke adamantly spoke, pressing his hands on yours still resting on his face.

“Luke. I love you. Just sitting here like we are is special and romantic.”

“Will you marry me?” Luke whispered, leaning to press his forehead on yours. The orange beanie tickling your skin.

“Yes. As soon as I turn eighteen.” You didn’t care if you had two more years to wait. As long as Luke was by your side, you didn’t care about how you got married just as long as you married him.

Los Angeles, 2004

There are times that Reggie knows that the last thing people need is his goofy personality and jokes. When Luke returned from wherever he had gone, it was evident that something had drastically changed since the last time they had seen him.

“Luke?” Reggie gently spoke hesitantly moving to the boy curled on the couch, sobbing into his hands. Reggie had never seen Luke like this before, not even when it cemented that they had died and Luke’s future with Y/N shattered in a moment.

“Reg-“ Alex poofed in next going stock still at the distraught teenager. His eyes widened as he quickly made his way to Luke, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I saw Y/N.” Luke choked out, shaking his head, “I knew it would hurt, but it felt like I died again. Like I literally watched my hopes and dream just shatter before me.”

 Alex was quiet taking in that Luke had seen Y/N. Alex missed his sister with everything in him, but Luke had plans.

“How is she?” Alex whispered, grabbing the hands of one of his best friends in the entire world. The one guy he had wholly trusted with his sister’s heart.

“She looks so good. God, it’s been nine years for her but only a few weeks for me. She’s more beautiful than I remember.” Luke breathed, raising teary eyes to meet Alex and Reggie’s concerned expressions, “I also saw Ben.”

“She got married?” Alex questioned surprised, “Please tell me it isn’t Bobby. I don’t think I could stomach that.”

“His name isn’t Ben and he probably tried after deciding on a respectable time for it to be okay-“

“Reggie.” Alex hissed motioning him to stop talking while Luke knew that Bobby had had feelings for you, he didn’t think he would try anything.

“I don’t think she’s married, but Ben is definitely a big part of what I missed out on.” Luke sighed, picking at a loose thread on his jeans, “I’m sure you know that in the three years, I was actually alive and with her that things happened.”

“Things like…?” Alex trailed off having a feeling he wouldn’t want to know about whatever Luke was hesitant to announce.

“Um…well we were, I am in love.” Luke grimaced at how odd it was to word his feelings for a girl he had died while planning a future, “in relationships you show affection in particular-“

“Okay as you struggle to finish that I will.” Reggie spoke, turning to Alex, “Luke and Y/N as a couple were having sex.”

Alex’s eyes went wide at the blunt statement that he never wanted to hear again in his life because you were his sister! He didn’t need to even think of anything to do other than the kissing he sometimes walked in on. He knew already but didn’t want to know either.

“I died, leaving Y/N pregnant! Which I didn’t know about.” Luke shouted poofing to the other side of the garage when he saw Alex’s fist start to clench. He poofed to the loft when Alex appeared to his last place, “C’mon man!”

“You knocked my sister up!”

Reggie’s mouth dropped at the physical aggression that Alex was showing because Alex was more peaceful and non-violent.

“I didn’t know! He’s eight!” Luke yelped when Alex grabbed him in a headlock, “Dude! I didn’t know! We were gonna get married when she turned eighteen! I love her, man!”

Reggie pulled Alex away from the lead guitarist before a fight happened, and even though part of Reggie wanted to see Alex fight…he wanted Luke here as well.

Alex was quiet, “What does he look like?”

Despite the agony of not being there for his son Luke launched into a description of the little boy.

With a white lie out of Julie’s mouth, she had gotten the address from Emily and Mitch for Luke and Alex. The address led to a small house with pretty flowers and a bike in the front yard; the place where Luke’s son had been growing up in since he was two years old.

Julie’s fist raised, knocking on the white door listening as footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. The door opened, revealing a little boy with startling green eyes that he inherited from his father.

“Benjamin Lucas!” You huffed turning the corner with a frown, “You may be eight, but you are still not allowed to open the door alone!”

The little boy slouched at the greeting before his eyes met three boys behind the Peurto Rican pretty girl.

“Oh my god. He looks just like you!” Alex hissed to Luke unable to remove his gaze from his…his nephew. His attention pulled to the woman his sister had grown to be.

“Julie, right?” You spoke gently tugging Ben closer to you, “Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” Julie nodded, mumbled a thank you as you welcomed the girl into the small home you had made. It was small but perfect, “Did he get stitches?”

“Oh yeah! I guess you were there when he got hurt.” You nodded, moving a book from the couch for Julie to sit down. Your attention was on Ben as he went to the corner to play with toys, “He did. He’s kinda like my brother and his dad in that way.”

 “Oh, god.” The overly familiar voice snapped your attention.

Sitting on either side of Julie were exact replicas of three boys that tragically died back in 1995, everyone froze. Even Ben looked up from the tension.

“Mama?” Ben asked, furrowing his brow.

“It’s okay Ben. Can you go to your room?” You asked, staring pale at the two people that you hadn’t noticed before. They hadn’t been visible to you at the time until they sat beside Julie. The scampering of feet and the gentle closing a door left you alone with four people.

“She can see us.”

Mutely you nodded at Alex’s statement slouching into the couch in shock, “What is happening?”

“I found a CD in my garage, and I played it. Out of nowhere, Luke, Reggie and Alex literally appeared in the room. They’re ghosts.” Julie spoke softly, “I’m not sure how I can see them, but I can.”

“Wow.” You breathed leaning back into the couch, unable to tear your gaze from the three boys, “Let me guess. Your first order of business was haunting the hell out of Bobby?”

Bobby, Trevor as the world knew, had lived up to your predictions of him being a lowlife rat boy. If you didn’t have Ben, you would have gone after him, but you couldn’t risk what little you had at the time.

“He stole our songs,” Luke grumbled crossing his arms so like you remember from years ago. He was still the passionate, caring musician you fell in love with so quickly.

 “I know. I tried everything but with Ben…it was too hard, but hey he’s gotten little success from his new stuff. Guess he didn’t think of how stealing songs wouldn’t pan out.” You shrugged, twisting a ring on your finger that Luke gave you a few weeks after the spontaneous proposal.

“So Ben?” Alex questioned, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees with great interest in the new topic.

The tsunami of happiness broke through the heavy fog of sadness when your favourite subject came around. Talking about Ben could go on for years you swore with the amount of love for him.

“His name is Benjamin Lucas Patterson. He’s eight years old and obsessed with music, they say playing classical music helps with mental intelligence. Still, he wouldn’t settle unless I played rock.” You laughed glancing over your shoulder at the closed door, “He adores Bear in the Big Blue House and Dragon Tales. Not fond of Barney or Sesame Street but he’ll still watch it.”

The guys ate it up listening to every detail of a little boy they missed even if they only recently learnt about him. Reggie was silent listening to your stories of the young boy.

“His prized possession…come with me.” You gestured turning to head to the bedroom, “I didn’t ask for a lot of baby stuff, just the essentials and anything someone could make. Sunset Curve. You guys were significant to us, so I wanted Ben to have that.”

Ben was settled playing with the cars by his toy chest barely glancing as four people came together. Julie decided to stay in the living room. With a hand, you grabbed the blanket Ben absolutely always needed. It was a homemade blanket made entirely out of clothing—one of Reggie’s flannels, a few shirts from concerts with Luke and clothing that Alex loved.

“Y/N,” Alex spoke, brushing his fingers over the worn material touched at the action of doing something so little yet powerful.

 “I’m going, to be frank. After you died and I went to your fun-“ the word choked you as if you were back in 1995 sitting beside your mother wearing that black dress; a dress you burnt in the bathroom tub, “Mom found the test in my room. Rookie mistake. They weren’t thrilled about the baby and who the father was.”

“They kicked you out?”

“And Luke’s parents immediately welcomed me into their home. I owe them a lot, and Emily made this for Ben, she may not have approved of the band, but she knew it was important, so she wanted Ben to have a piece of his father’s greatest joy.”

“Mama? Can we have burgers tonight?” Ben asked quietly from his toys, “Can they stay for supper?”

Ben was shy with new people, but once he got to know someone, he was just like Luke with his bubbly and passionate personality. He was the spitting image of Luke with his hair and eye colour, but he got your nose and skin colour.

“If they want to.” You smiled, reaching over to pull the eight-year-old into your arms only wanting him to never grow up.

Alex, needing a break from the grief, wandered to a picture hanging on the wall that was a shadow box with his very first drum sticks. Underneath was Reggie’s old necklace that had to be replaced. Lastly underneath was the very first pick Luke used for the first song the band had performed.

“I’m Ben.” The boy spoke, meeting the eyes of the newcomers, “You’re the band that passed away, right?”

“Yeah. This may be confusing but Ben this is Alex, Reggie and Luke.” You replied, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. Ben returned to his quiet nature before looking at your eyes.

“That’s my family, right?”

In perfect sync, Alex and Luke started silently crying at the little boy’s words wishing that that night had never happened. It seemed at the time the right way to start the new chapter with one last street dog.

 “Yeah, baby.” You cleared your throat nodding along to the innocent words your son spoke before he was wandering out of the room, “One hour of cartoons young man.”

“I’m gonna go.” Reggie spoke gesturing after the boy, “I wanna watch Cartoons.”

Reggie poofed out of the room following the little boy out of the room, leaving three sad people. The room was heavy in loss, so sad it could choke a person.

“Does Mom and Dad have anything to do with him?” Alex asked as the boys covered their grief by wandering around the bedroom. Taking in the pictures of Ben from throughout the eight years, some with you or with his paternal grandparents. Few had Alex and your parents.

“They moved a few months after you died.” You admitted, “After the way they reacted to Ben I didn’t want him in that environment. We get Christmas cards and calls on his birthday, but I don’t have the time to travel.”

Alex nodded vividly remembering the way they reacted after he had told his parents that he didn’t like girls. It was challenging since Dad was always excited for the family name to be passed down, he didn’t see that the name could continue no matter who Alex loved. Mom was more open but stepped in line with her husband instead of her hurting son.

“I’m sorry.” Luke blurted stepping closer to you, allowing you to see the ocean of tears and pain swimming in his tortured gaze, “I shouldn’t have gotten that street dog. I should have stayed with you, you weren’t feeling good.”

“Things happen for a reason, Luke.” You sadly reminded the boy, “I wish it didn’t happen, but it did, and I’ve learned to live with that. Ben has a wonderful family and a good life.”

“He knows about us too,” Luke spoke, thinking back to barely half an hour ago when Ben acted as if he knew Luke all his life. God, Luke wished he could have seen everything.

“I have videos of Ben if you want to see them.” You offered the boy, “There’s a television in the den where Ben has his baby book, and the home videos if you want. You can stay in there all you want.”

Luke nodded, playing with his fingers, “I’d love that.”

“If you want to be alone, I can take Ben for ice cream. You can have the whole house to watch alone.” You graciously offered the boy you would always love and believed before that you would see him in decades after your own death.

Luke silently nodded following as you took him to the den where it had a child-sized guitar and floor to ceiling bookshelves. A television was tucked in the corner with a video camera stored on a shelf with a VHS player. In a sealed container, the home videos were kept safe along with the baby books.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. It’s nice to see you, Luke. Really.” You told the now younger boy keeping his eyes on the opened bucket. A bucket that held all the firsts he had missed out on a little boy he had loved since first seeing him in his family home weeks ago.

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[dreamerrgirl]

Something You Need to Hear

Here is a quick Chenford fanfic for you all, based after S3 Ep 6, Revelations. As a few of you have mentioned on here, it was painful to watch the episode end without anyone being there for Tim to remind him that he is a good person, so here’s my interpretation on how that should have happened. Hope you enjoy! - Tim’s P.O.V. - After leaving the station that afternoon, Tim couldn’t stop Beth’s angry words from playing on a loop in his head. Usually when something was bothering him, getting in an extra intense gym session would do the trick, but not this time. Because this time, her words had hit a little too close to home. “Now your hands are tied? Hypocritical bastard… how am I supposed to feed my kids? You are a cop, you’re supposed to look out for one of your own.” She wasn’t wrong, especially about the hypocrite part. He hadn’t been wrong either when he told her that it was Mack who did this to her, not him, but he couldn’t deny his part in all of this. Maybe that was why he found himself tossing and turning all night long, fading in and out of consciousness as he dreamed about the day he discovered Isabel’s addiction, watching her walk down the driveway and climb into her car one final time as she left him. The past blended seamlessly with reality as he re-lived the weeks of his internal struggle, fighting with himself over what he should, or shouldn’t do to fix it. As the night finally gave way to day, Tim found himself groggy, slightly disoriented, and well on his way to having a pounding headache, all before 6am. Speaking from experience, Tim knew that going to work in this condition was a recipe for disaster. Even the slightest impairment in his reflexes and judgement could be the difference between someone’s life and death, and Tim wasn’t sure he was in the right headspace to be responsible for yet another person’s grief today. Not to mention the fact that Lucy had chosen yesterday of all days to become interested in undercover work. He was definitely not in the mood to listen to her chatter on about how awesome it had been, and how much she was looking forward to doing it again. He hated to do this, especially during her last few days of training, but he felt like he had no other choice. For only the second time in his police career, Tim reached for his phone to call in for a personal day. - Lucy’s P.O.V. - Lucy tapped her fingers nervously against the steering wheel as she followed the GPS instructions, wondering for the millionth time if this was a good idea or not. As soon as Grey had told her that Tim was taking a personal day, she knew something was wrong. While she hadn’t known her T.O. for more than a year, she knew in her bones that Tim Bradford was not the kind of guy who took personal days lightly. That hunch only became more solidified after Grey mentioned that Tim had officially reported Mack to Internal Affairs at the end of yesterday’s shift. Then, while spending the day on desk duty, Lucy found out from one of the officers who had worked the desk yesterday that Beth had stopped by to ream Tim out before he left, and that she hadn’t held back. After hearing that, Lucy had made the decision right then and there that she was going to pay Tim a visit after work. She wasn’t sure how he was going to react to her showing up out of the blue, especially since she knew he wouldn’t want to talk about it, but there was something she felt like he needed to hear, and she wasn’t about to let it go. So, after sneakily running his name through the system, she got his address, and now here she was, only a block away from his house. ‘What the hell,’ she thought, turning onto his street. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ As she pulled into his driveway, she saw Kujo come flying around the corner of the yard, barking his head off until she got out of the car. “Come here Kujo!” she called to him, smiling as he excitedly charged towards her, his barks turning into excited whines. “Hey boy, I missed you!” she said, squatting down to rub his belly.

“Boot, what the hell are you doing here?” Tim’s voice rang out from the front door, and Lucy flinched as she recognized his ‘no nonsense T.O. voice’.

Standing up, Lucy took a deep breath as she walked towards the house, stopping at the bottom stair of the front porch. “I um, I heard about what happened yesterday after we got back to the station, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for that. And I just wanted you to know, that you did the right thing, and that no matter what Beth said, you are not a bad person. She’s just angry, and taking it out on you is a lot easier than taking it out on her husband right now.”

Tim crossed his arms as he stared her down. “You came halfway across town during rush hour traffic just to tell me that?”

Lucy pressed her lips into a straight line as she dipped her head down in a quick nod. “Pretty much, yeah. I knew you would be beating yourself up over it, and I needed you to know that you shouldn’t be.”

“And this wasn’t something you couldn’t have told me in say, I don’t know, a text, or a phone call?”

Shrugging, Lucy replied, “It felt like something you should hear in person.”

“Boot,” he said, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Wait, how did you get my address?” he asked, his eyebrows narrowing in suspicion.

“Oh, I uh, asked Angela?” she said unconvincingly, the increase in pitch at the end of her sentence betraying her.

“I swear, if you ran a background check on me…”

“You’ll let it go just this once?” she finished for him, giving him her best innocent puppy face.

Tim threw his hand up in the air while rolling his eyes, which Lucy took as a yes.

“Great. Well, I should probably get going, I have a spin class to get to.” Turning away from him, Lucy leaned down to say goodbye to Kujo before heading towards her car.

“Lucy,” she heard him call, and a shot of electricity ran through her, just as it did every time he used her real name.

Keeping one hand on the door handle, she turned back around to find him staring at her, his hands buried in his pockets.

“Thank you,” he simply said, giving her an appreciative nod.

Smiling, Lucy nodded back, adding, “You riding with me tomorrow?”

She watched as a real, genuine Tim Bradford smile started breaking out over his face at hearing her familiar words. He ducked his head, trying to hide it from her, but she would recognize that smile anywhere.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, stepping aside to let Kujo back into the house.

“Good, war bags need restocking,” she teased him, half expecting him to throw one of Kujo’s tennis balls at her.

“Good point, better get in early for that Boot,” he teased her right back, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yes sir,” Lucy said, laughing as she opened her car door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes you will,” he said, raising his hand in farewell as he stepped back into the house. Lucy shut her car door with a slam, smiling to herself as she turned on the engine, feeling like she had more than accomplished what she came here to do.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 8]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“reality may be better than a dream“

He isn’t sure when he woke back up or how long it had been since he fell asleep, but his cheek is squished up against something and he is in a horizontal position. He blinks the sleep from his eyes, realizing he is staring past the edge of a pair of tanned legs decorated with thin black lines of fishnets which are also digging into his cheek. His eyes widen, lips parting a tiny bit when he realizes he’d tipped over in his sleep, laying his head on Cora’s hip. His hand had slid from her cheek and curled against the back of her neck, cradling her head in his palm. He swallows hard, unsure if he should move and risk waking her up or stand as still as he possibly can. On one hand, he doesn’t want her thinking he willingly invaded her personal space, but then again she’s bound to find out, seeing as how moving would result in waking her up and if he remained in his current position, she’s still gonna wake up sooner or later and find him awkwardly looking at her, silently praying she doesn’t lose her cool at him.

What is a guy to do?

Her arms are still wrapped snugly around his thigh, sleeping peacefully in the dark room illuminated only by the Netflix menu. 

It must be later than I thought, he thinks to himself as he stretches his free leg out to his phone, tapping the screen with his sock covered toe to discover it’s 6:48pm. Jesus, we’ve slept for almost two hours. 

The sun is still glowing but is now significantly lower in the sky, indicating they’d have a little bit of daylight left but it would be quick to slip past them if Cora doesn’t wake up anytime soon. What if she wanted to leave before it got dark? I should probably wake her up, no? I mean, there’s also the possibility that she didn’t and I’d just be disturbing her for no reason and I of course don’t want that….Ugh, fuck, why is something this simple so complicated?!

Doing his best not to jostle her, Corpse carefully pushes himself up using his hands which he’s propped up on the back of the couch. Once upright, he carefully eases his hand out from under her head and brushes a few stray dark locks away from her face where they had formed a curtain over her closed eyes. His voice cracks as he tries to speak so it comes out more as an unsure murmur. 

“Cora. Hey, come on, wake up.” He whispers, trying to be gentle as he nudges her shoulder. 

She lets out a soft distressed noise at the fact that someone dared to interrupt her sleep. Her arms tighten around his leg and she rubbed her cheek into his thigh, indicating that he’s not going anywhere with this mellowness, 

“Mmm...five more minutes…” she mutters, making his cheeks burn as she snuggles up even tighter into him.  

With a defeated sigh he leans back, fixating his gaze on the TV and smiles a tiny bit, feeling that by now familiar, warm sensation in his chest and stomach - the one he feels whenever he takes her hand or gets a text from her. “Alright, five minutes.” He settles, leaning back further on the couch, unlocking his phone, beginning to browse Instagram quietly and then checking his email afterwards. 

He soon finds he’s lost track of time but eventually it definitely starts feeling like more than five minutes have passed, and so Corpse decides to take some action. Bowing his head down, he shakes her shoulder again. “Alright, come on, Sleeping Beauty, it's time to get up. I’m hungry and I gotta pee and I’m done with being held hostage.”

Her head tips slightly to the side, eyes still closed as she turns to face the ceiling. A sly little smirk dances on her lips before it falls when she goes back to pretending to be consumed by her blissful slumber. Her voice arises from her throat as a playful whisper, 

“Something-something can only be awoken with the kiss of a strong knight.” 

Corpse feels his stomach do a backflip and his face starts burning as the color of his cheeks, ears and neck switches to a bright shade of red, eyes growing wide when he registers what she just said. “I’m...um-...” He stutters, his throat suddenly dry and coarse as sandpaper.

Cora opens one eye just a slit, spotting his frantic blushing before closing it again. “Or even just a dude lost in the woods if the knight is unavailable.”

He swallowed again, desperately trying to fish out any words and let them leave his mouth. Despite his attempts to calm himself down, his hands go clammy and his heart has taken to hitting the inside of his ribcage with the intensity of an angry dragon, threatening to break through and leave his body. 

She isn’t really suggesting this, right? It’s a joke, it has to be. Haha, make Corpse look like a dumbass, won’t that be hilarious.

Interrupting his thoughts, one of her hands squeezes the back of his knee while the other comes up to link her pinky finger with his own. He stares down at her, flustered as all hell, catching that one eye open again. His face is the epitome of questioning, puzzled and….hopeful? He can’t afford to be getting hopeful, not when there’s still the option that she’s messing with him. That’s why he has to know. His eyes are begging her to tell him what’s going on here or if there’s anything going on at all. He wants her to either break this magic or carry it out completely to where it’s enveloped and surrounded them both. He wants something, anything, even the tiniest signal from her, just to put his mind at ease and his racing heart to rest.

His breath hitches when Cora slides her hand out from under his leg. Defeat spreads throughout his chest like a wildfire when he thinks she’s about to pull away. 

I knew it! I knew she’s just fucking around, she’d never w-!

His brain stops firing neurons of panic when he feels a hand rest on the back of his neck and he suddenly realizes he’s being pulled down slightly, the figure across his lap raising to connect their lips halfway. 

He freezes, eyes wide and nearly watering in panic at the sudden contact that he was far from prepared for. However, Cora wouldn’t be Cora if she just let him sit there and panic so she immediately reacts, squeezing his hand so that his instincts would kick in. When they finally do, his hand comes up to gently cup her face, allowing himself to melt into the kiss. He kisses her slowly, savoring the feeling of her lips against his - warm and soft against his chapped ones. His thumb brushes slowly across her cheekbone, subconsciously memorizing every spot and tiny line etched into her skin. 

She’s the first to pull back but they don’t stay apart for long seeing as how she’s quick to sit up higher and press her lips back against his, hand cradling his head as both their bodies buzz with heat. His arm automatically wraps around her torso, the palm of his hand resting on her back to keep her close, deepening the kiss.

His chest is aching with happiness, eyes brimmed with tears of joy and relief he hopes won’t spill for her to see. He just can’t help himself, it all feels so overwhelming and surreal. The feeling that he’s had living within him since their lunch date has finally fallen into place. It finally makes sense and he can finally be at peace with it. That’s the biggest relief he’s felt in a long while. She’s his check point, his safe haven and his relief. She’s become so much to him in such a short amount of time. It goes without saying she’s incredibly special.

He draws back after a moment and inhales shakily, his whole body shaking in shock. 

“Holy shit.” He whispers, eyes wide as he carefully moves his hands away from her face. 

Cora’s cheeks are pink as she smiles faintly and nods in agreement. “Sorry...I hope that was okay.” She mumbles, looking away shyly but not for long. Corpse tilts her head, turning it to face him once again as he leans in to press his lips firmly against hers, eyes closing slowly yet again. She brings her body closer to his and Corpse could swear he felt the Earth stop spinning. The rest of the world has stopped existing. Nothing matters but this moment, right now. This kiss shared between them, this contact between them, addictive like a drug.

They spend a few minutes just kissing slowly, enjoying every second of it, savoring it with a small fear they might never repeat this though they really hope they do. 

He alternates between cupping her cheek and neck to holding her hands. The whole experience is just so warm and deep and meaningful, but tame at the same time. They don’t dissolve into a frantic mess, they kept their pace, moving in sync, reminding each other that this is not a dream. This is better than any dream could ever be.

He breaks away first, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest. “Do-...do you need to go home?” He blurts out softly, fingers laced with hers, the question so out of place for the setting.

“Oh, is my kissing so bad you want to kick me out?” She asks with a smile so small but so bright it warms him internally. 

He laughs a deep breathy laugh, looking at her with affection. He can't help it, he’s intoxicated by her. Before, it would have been a totally different experience for him: frantic backpedaling on what he’d said but something feels...good with her here. It feels so right and it keeps him grounded in the current moment, refusing to allow him running the conversation and events back in his head.

“No, you’re perfect…” he admits softly, a little anxious with those words but accepting them as truth because that’s what they are. “I just thought….”

“Is that what that burning smell is?” She teases again, perhaps hiding her own nervousness behind jokes, before she kisses him softly. 

“I thought, if you wanted to stay the night....I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” He manages to say, pulling away from her briefly, the backs of his fingers drawing a soft line across her cheek. He pulls away further suddenly, realizing that may be a bit too romantic. They just kissed, and still haven’t spent such a big amount of time together. With these thoughts in mind, he hurries to add: “If not, it’s okay…”

She’s quick to shake her head, dismissing his worries, “I want to stay, but you’re not sleeping on the couch. What, are you afraid I’ll give you cooties?” She teases, squeezing his hands and leaning in to affectionately headbutt his shoulder. 

He smiled and winds his arms around her in a tight hug, releasing her when she pulls away. “Alright, but I’m hungry, and I still need to piss.” He declares, standing up and stretching to loosen and relax his stiff joints, starting to make his way to the bathroom. “Think about what you want for dinner!”

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

[erinxneil]

22: “Sorry we are late, we were totally not having sex.”

Thank you so much for suggesting this @mortallythoughtfulgurl ! It made me super happy to see that you enjoyed my previous post enough to suggest a specific number! I plan to do all of the prompts on the list, however if there are any specific numbers that you’d like me to do sooner then simply send me a request and I will do so! These prompts are all from the list here.

masterlist

TW: Mentions of Reid’s prior drug problem, mentions of family death.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader

Summary: Spencer doesn’t quite understand the concept of being subtle.

>>>These are all basically one-shots! This doesn’t follow the story line as the last post that I made, however I may do a series soon :)

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I smiled as I packed away my things. Not only had the team just solved another successful case.

I, myself had managed to save the victim, as I was able to talk down the unsub simply by using my words. I did this as I understood what the unsub was going through. While, of course, resorting to murder and becoming a serial killer isn’t exactly the first thing that I did after discovering that my sister had been murdered, although I was able to empathize with the killer and thus convince him that murdering a girl who bared resemblance to his kin would not revive her.

I felt my smile droop the faintest bit. While the victory of a successful case made me feel like rejoicing, this case had brought up poor memories. I shrugged them off and headed for the door.

“Hey, Y/N!” JJ called out. I turned around slowly, eyebrow perked in question. “You coming out tonight? We thought we’d head out for some drinks.”

I offered her a tight smile. “Not tonight, guys, sorry.”

Spencer coughed. “Yeah, me neither, I’m not really feeling it.”

Emily frowned. “Reid,  didn’t you just say that you we-”

He coughed again. “Yeah. Changed my mind. I’m not feeling well. Is that a problem, Emily?” Spencer cocked an eyebrow in challenge, as if trying to be intimidating. I chuckled a little. While Spencer could be intimidating as hell during cases, such as during interrogations, we all know that he would never do anything that could remotely harm us. However, his sass was welcomed and quite amusing.

I turned. “Well, goodnight, friends. See you tomorrow.” Before I could take even more than three steps, my name was called again.

“Wait, Y/N! You took an Uber here, right?” I blinked. Oh, right, I had completely forgotten about that. I had known we would be leaving the state for a few days for the case, and didn’t want to leave my car here. How did Reid remember that, yet I didn’t? Spencer disrupted my thoughts again. “Well- uh, I could give you a ride. If you’d like.” I quirked an eyebrow at how fidgety he was being.

“Alright, lover-boy, lead the way.” His cheeks tinged at the nickname. It was admittedly quite cute, however he quickly ducked his head and lead me to the car, shielding his face with his hair so that I would be unable to see his blush.

-*-*-*-*-*-

We drove in relative silence for a majority of the car ride. Although surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward. As the case hit me harder than I expected, I welcomed the silence, and was thankful that Spencer didn’t force any conversation between us.

“It’s just the left up ahead.” I muttered quietly. Reid bit the inside of his cheek, eyes remaining focused on the road ahead of him. I blinked as he drove completely past the turn. “Uh, you missed it.” I chuckled nervously.

“I’m not taking you home.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Reid, I hope you don’t plan on kidnapping me. For a profiler, you should know that considering you were the one to give me a ride home, everyone at the BAU saw me get into your car, which would make you a prime suspect.” He smiled softly. “I’m not kidnapping you, Y/N, I just wanted to show you something.”

I furrowed my eyebrows but didn’t question him further until we pulled up on the top of a cliff.

“Woah.” I murmured, admiring the beautiful landscape before me. In the distance, snowy mountaintops scattered the planes, with ashy planes and various kinds of trees. It was the type of image that you would find as a laptop screen background, one that you never imagined you would see in person.

“Where are we?” I questioned. When I wasn’t met with an answer, I turned to glance at Spencer, who jumped in surprise at me looking at him. He blinked abruptly, as if being taken out of a trance.

“This is called Possum Point- or, at least, a crook of it. I come here often when I feel particularly struck by cases that we have.” I smiled. “It’s beautiful. However, I don’t really understand why you’re showing me this.”

Spencer unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, before moving to my door and opening it for me. He then sat on the hood of the car and patted the spot beside him with a grin. I sat, and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Come on, Y/N, I’m a profiler, you can’t really suppose that I didn’t notice that you took this case personally?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “So what?”

Reid shrugged. “I just figured you’d want someone to talk to. Or at least, I wanted you to know that there’s someone available to listen, if you’re willing.” The corner of my lip tugged upwards. In the moonlight, the features of the man next to me seemed ever the more beautiful. He held direct eye-contact, something that was rare for Spencer, and therefore I knew how genuinely he wanted to comfort me. His delicate features were something I had never really taken notice of before. Before, he was simply Reid. The brainiac agent- sorry, Doctor- whom you happened to work beside. Now, not only did you acknowledge the beauty of his facial structure, you also understood that there was more to him than useless facts and magic tricks. He held compassion that he was willing to offer you.

“Y/N?” His soft voice broke me from my thoughts. In the process of admiring him, you had completely forgotten that he was speaking to you. You sighed.

“I just understand the pain and anger that Homer was feeling. I mean, obviously murder isn’t a reasonable reaction. However, I can understand being angry at the world and wanting to make others feel the pain that you do.” I frowned. “When my sister died, I was in a dark place, and often took out my anger on the people who cared about me, because I didn’t understand how they were allowed to continue living their lives being happy, while my sister wasn’t able to even continue living.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gently rubbed my arm. “I can’t even imagine how that must have felt. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. Having people all around you but still feeling entirely alone...” His voice trailed off softly. This reminded you that he said he himself comes often when cases cut him too deeply.

“Spencer, what kinds of cases cause you to come out here to reflect?”

“Usually when we have cases focused on unsubs with a drug addiction.” Reid muttered. My eyebrows raised in surprise. I had heard office chatter of rumors of a drug addiction that Reid had battled alone a year or two prior to your arrival at the BAU, although you always took them with a grain of salt, as you hadn’t heard it straight from his mouth. However, it appears that now, you could confirm your suspicions.

You offered him a faint smile. “Well, if you ever need someone to talk to it about, or you’d simply like some company on this cliff as well, I’d be more than happy to abide. I feel much better than I did when we left the office.”

Reid met my smile with a grin. “Glad to be of service.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

The next day at work, I could tell that the dynamic between Spencer and I had been altered. Usually, we simply worked beside each other, sparing words of encouragement every now an then. However, after that night, we stole glances, smiled at each other, and often conversed on the jet. We eventually began having lunch together. Spencer would buy me coffee on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I bought it for him on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. We knew each other's orders- I took mine black, while his required as much sugar was available.

Weeks went by, and we only drew closer.

“Alright everyone, remember, dinner tonight at Jose’s Diner! We’re celebrating the release of Rossi’s newest book!” JJ explained to the team as we prepared to leave for the day. “You are to arrive at 8 PM sharp, if you’re late you better have a really good excuse!”

I grinned at JJ’s scolding. While we all knew that she wouldn’t be able to do anything to us, she’s quite terrifying when she’s angry, so I doubted that anyone would dare to arrive a minute after 8:00. I began to head for the door when I was stopped by a nervous Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N, could I give you a ride home?” I grinned. “Of course, Spence.”

When we arrived, I glanced at him expectantly. “So, I suppose you had a reason for offering to drive me home, other than the obvious of course, of you simply enjoying my company.” I smiled coyly, and he scratched the back of his neck anxiously.

“Y/N,” he began slowly, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night on the cliff.” I blinked in surprise, but stayed silent, allowing him to continue. “You’re beautiful, inside and out. You’ve seen me for who I am and it’s like the more time I spend with you, the longer I want to. I’m not quite sure what this feeling is, or what to do about it, but-”

I cut off his rant by planting my lips on his, one hand on the side of his jaw. He froze at first, taken by surprise, however he quickly melted into the kiss and responded. Pulling away for a moment, he smirked, “So I suppose that you feel the same?”

I rolled my eyes in amusement. “Just shut up and kiss me.” I pulled him closer again by the collar of his shirt, and he returned with no protest.

-*-*-*-*-*-

I smoothed out my dress quickly and checked my makeup one last time in the car mirror before turning to Spencer with a smile. It was 8:24. “Alright, we lost track of time a little bit so we don’t have as much time to debrief as I’d like. Remember, just for now, we are keeping this to ourselves. We haven’t even necessarily discussed this between ourselves yet, therefore there is no reason to involve our coworkers right now. You happened to be giving me a ride when your car broke down. Understood?”

Spencer nodded. “Understood.”

“Are you sure?” “I’m sure. Completely understood.”

We walked into the building together and stood next to our coworkers table. All of their eyes lifted to us expectantly. I opened my mouth to give an explanation, however Spencer beat me to it.

“Sorry we are late. We were totally not having sex.”

I blinked. Reid blinked. Our coworkers blinked. The waitress blinked. The table beside us blinked. The clock on the wall blinked.

I sighed. “Well, so much for secrecy.”

-*-*-*-*-*-

[nettles-bo-bettles]

Day 1: Best Friends

Maribat War Day 1: Prompt: Best Friends

Third Person POV:

Tim Drake and Marinette Dupain-Cheng have been best friends for as long as they can remember. It all started when they were five years old. Tim had been running around Gotham at night pretending to be Robin when he found Marinette scavenging a dumpster for food and perhaps clothing.

“Hi! What are you doing in a dumpster?”

“Oh...I’m looking for food and maybe new clothes if I can find any.”

“How come? Why in a dumpster?”

“Well, my parents died or left me before I was born...I’m not really sure but I’ve been a street kid all my life. I usually find everything I need in dumpsters.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t usually get to spend much time with my parents, they’re always busy but they let me do whatever I want and I usually got everything I need at home.”

“I’m sorry too, it’d probably be worse to have neglectful parents rather than dead parents.”

“It’s alright, I still got a roof over my head right? That’s why I feel bad for you. You don’t seem to have a roof over your head.”

“Yeah, I don’t but I’m used to it.”

“Hey! I got an idea! Why don’t you come stay at my house?”

“But wouldn’t that be intruding? And I don’t even know your name or anything about you.”

“Oh, I forgot about that. Well, I’m Tim Drake! My parents are Jack and Janet Drake, though, they’re always busy so you probably won’t see them around very often and I’m trying to figure out who Batman and Robin are!!!”

“I’m Marinette! I don’t know who my parents are or what my last name is and I think you’re pretty cool!”

Throughout the days Tim and Marinette spent together they grew closer, they were almost attached to each other by the hip. The only time you wouldn’t see the two together would be when they went to sleep, had to change or went to the bathroom. They named each other as best friends and swore to never leave the other’s side.

One day when Tim was sick and couldn’t go outside Marinette started wandering around Gotham again. Eventually it turned night and she started to head home, though, she got stopped by three adult men who looked to be drunk and in their mid-thirties, Marinette, at the time was 8.

The men were clearly about to rape her so she got into a fighting stance and got ready to teach them not to mess with 8 year olds, right before she punched the middle guy someone swooped in and knocked them all out. The mysterious person patted down the men, seemingly looking for something. Once the mysterious person found what it was Marinette discovered that this person was most likely only there for stealing valuable items from drunk men.

Although she was right the mysterious figure turned to her and looked her up and down, seemingly looking for signs of injury.

“Are you okay little kitten?”

“Uh yeah I guess I just stayed out too late, who are you?”

“I would’ve thought you would’ve known but I’m Catwoman, and you little kitten seem like you can be quite the feisty one.”

“Well I mean I was about to punch those guys but you got here before I got the chance.”

“How do you feel about me adopting you and you being my little kitten sidekick?”

“Um...I don’t want to leave my best friend. Can I talk to him about it first?”

“Of course little kitten, just meet back here tomorrow if your friend is okay with it.”

“Okay!”

And with that Catwoman left Marinette. Marinette walked back to her home and thought about what Catwoman had said. She went to her room and got ready for bed, contemplating about whether she would even want to accept her offer. A few minutes of thinking about it she decided that she did want to accept it and went to bed.

The next morning Marinette woke up and did her usual routine, grab an outfit for the day, take a shower, go to the bathroom, get changed and meet Tim out in the hallway.

“G’morning Tim!”

“Morning Bean!”

“So last night I ran into Catwoman and she wants to adopt me but I immediately remembered our promise so I wanted to run the idea through you before making a final decision about letting her.”

“I say go for it, we’ll still see each other all the time right?”

“Yeah!”

“Then go for it!”

“I will! I’ll let her know that you said that!!!”

They continued talking while walking down the steps and on the way to the kitchen for breakfast. Once in the kitchen they grabbed their usual breakfast foods, Marinette got her usual froot loops and Tim got his usual yogurt.

The day went on as usual until it was 8pm and it was time for Marinette to go back to the alleyway to meet with Catwoman. She grabbed a good amount of clothes and her favorite pair of shoes along with some slippers and put them in her backpack. She left and said goodbye to Tim, telling him that she’d see him the next day. Little did they know that they wouldn’t see each other until they were 15 due to Catwoman training Marinette to fight and to flirt for when Batman got a new Robin.

It was the day after Catwoman had adopted Marinette and Tim was waiting in his usual spot where he met with Marinette, however, she didn’t show. He went back inside, disappointed that his friend ditched him. He decided to try again the next day, and the next, and the next. This went on for three weeks before he decided to give up. Years passed by quickly and Tim was now thirteen and in the beginning stages of growing into an adult. One day he wandered around Gotham City and bumped into Bruce Wayne, the older man saw something in the young boy and decided to adopt him. Tim’s parents agreed to the adoption, though, they weren’t paying much attention.

When Bruce adopted Tim he told him about all of his nightly activities and asked if he would like to become Robin or to watch everything from the batcomputer. Tim chose to be Robin and Bruce gave him two years of training for it. Eventually it was time for Tim to go out as Robin for the first time and it ended up being against the Riddler. However, a few hours after the Riddler incident there was a robbery going down because of Catwomen who had broken into a jewelry store and stolen thousands of dollars worth of diamonds...at least that’s what she made them think. In reality she just wanted to see Batman and introduce her little kitten to Batman’s new Robin. And it worked. Catwomen’s new apprentice was going to use the tricks that Catwoman had taught her with flirting and everything but the minute she saw Robin she knew it was her old friend, Tim Drake. The one who she would trust with her life with no hesitation, the one she missed oh so much, the one that she would give anything just to see again.

“Long time no see Marinette.”

“I missed you so much, I thought I was never gonna see you again.”

“Me too, that day after you got adopted, and you didn’t show up I- I was devastated. And when you didn’t show up any time at a later date I just gave up all hope to see you again.”

“So...you’ve grown taller.”

“And so have you…”

“This is awkward so I’m uh- I’m just gonna go.”

“Yeah..OH WAIT!”

“Yeah?”

“Can we exchange numbers so we can still be friends?”

“Oh uh sure.”

The two teens exchanged numbers and went on their way, deciding that it was too awkward to continue being in the same place. Soon though, they ended up texting each other every night, they grew closer to each other yet again and the next time they met they ended up becoming inseparable.

One day, Selina decided to bring Marinette to the Wayne’s so she could meet her adoptive mother’s close ‘friend’. When they arrived at the Manor they were greeted by Alfred who welcomed them in. He led the women into the living room where Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake stood. When the youngest of the Waynes saw Marinette he immediately ran up to her and hugged her.

“Um- Tim, buddy why- how do you know Selina’s adoptive daughter?” Dick asked his younger brother.

“Oh, we used to be best friends when we were little until I got adopted by Selina.” Marinette answered for him.

“Yup, she’s my best friend who also happens to be addicted to caffeine and an insomniac just like me,” said Tim with a grin on his face.

Dick and Bruce wanted to get to know Marinette better so everyone socialized for hours until eventually the Waynes had to kick Marinette and Selina out as they had to patrol Gotham soon.

~Time Skip~

It had been a year since Marinette and Tim got reunited and they were hanging out at Selina’s house and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Soon, however, there was a knock at the door. Marinette opened the door to see who it was and surprisingly it was child services.

“Your name is Marinette Kyle correct?”

“Yes that’s me.”

“I apologize for any inconvenience but you’ll have to come with us because Selina Kyle is not fit for having a minor under her care. A couple in Paris, France has taken interest in adopting you so you will be moving there to be under their care for the next two years until you are a legal adult, you will then be able to move back here if you wish to do so.”

“Wait- WHAT?!?! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!!!”

“I’m afraid I can and it’s going to happen. Please come with me. And, young man if you could please inform Ms.Kyle of what has happened here.”

“I- but- she- she’s my best friend, my only friend you can’t take her.”

“Sir I’ve already explained everything please don’t make me do it again, now once Ms.Kyle arrives back home please inform her of what has happened here today.”

The man grabbed Marinette by the arm and took her with him, he drove to the airport and watched as she went into the plane.

After a long flight Marinette was finally in Paris. She got off the plane and the french couple who adopted her walked up to her and asked if she was Marinette. She said yes and they took her with them to their home, it was a bakery on the bottom floor and an apartment on the top floor. They took her to the room they set up for her, it was insanely pink but she didn’t say anything about it. A few days later she was enrolled in Francois Dupont Highschool, though she made many friends it wasn’t the same as Tim. Years passed and she moved back to Gotham, when she did, however, she couldn’t find her long-time best friend.

Eventually she did find Tim and they became closer than ever before, she met his other two brothers and his sisters and became their honorary sister. It was a few days before Wayne Gala and Tim still didn’t have a date, he told his coworkers who were going to be there that he would have a date but he still didn’t...until he got the best idea, ASK MARINETTE!! And so he did. He asked her to pretend to be his girlfriend for his coworkers and like the good best friend she is, she said yes.

They went to Wayne Gala pretending to be dating and managed to fool everyone, however, during the middle of the Gala when Bruce was introducing everyone, the Riddler decided to show up. He chose Tim to give his riddles to and told him that if he got any of them wrong that he would kill him. Marinette was just hoping that he was going to get them all right.

First Riddle, he got it correct.

Second Riddle, he got that one too.

Third Riddle, he got it again.

Fourth Riddle, and again.

He got them again and again and again. Eventually he was on the 15th riddle, the last one. At this point everyone was holding their breath. He answered it...but he got the answer wrong. It was wrong and before Marinette could even comprehend the fact that he got it wrong, Tim was dead. The Riddler had shot her best friend, he was gone, forever. Her best friend since she was five years old was gone. She would never get to make any more memories with him, all the time she had with him was over, she had too much to say and not any time to say it. He was gone.