#except it feels more like SCARED and i am not really sure why

[flwrstqr]

日语 ⟣ I'LL LIKE YOU . . SECOND GUESSING YOUR FRIENDSHIP ─────𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗈, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

𝓲. when you're more than friends with enhypen

❪ 日语 ❫ : enhypen & fem!rea 1OOO ❜ skinship, petnames kissing ⎯ fluff head canons one shot ˊᯅˋ & click / archive

다니 : this photoshoot of ki & won will always be engraved in my brain ㅠㅠ .. specifically used that won pic for someone .. cough cough (my favie won girl)

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung tastes like mint gum and something sweet you can’t quite place, maybe the remnants of the iced americano he always drinks. his lips move like he’s savoring this—like he’s scared you’ll pull away. but you don’t. you never do. your hands tangle in his hoodie strands, pulling him closer as his fingers ghost over your waist, hesitant but wanting. "this is a bad idea," you mumble against heeseung’s lips, but you don’t pull away. his hands are already at your waist, like he needs this as much as you do. "then why aren’t you stopping?" he breathes, and you don’t have an answer, not when his lips ghost over yours again. but you never talk about it, never question what it means, and when heeseung kisses you again, you let him, because it’s easier that way.

PARK JAY

"jay," you sigh, staring at the dress in your hands—soft, delicate, way too expensive. "you have to stop doing this." but jay just grins, leaning back against the couch, arms crossed like he's waiting for you to give in. "why would i? you look pretty in them." friends don’t buy you designer dresses just to see you smile, don’t brush your hair back and say, “this one’s my favorite,” when you step out of the fitting room. but jay does. and when you finally, finally give in—twirling just a little for him, watching the way his eyes light up—you pretend not to notice the way he looks at you, like he’s waiting for something more.

SIM JAKE

"you comfy, pretty girl?" jake's voice is soft, lazy, like he has nowhere else to be but here, sprawled out next to you. his arm is draped over your waist, fingers tracing idle shapes against your hip, and you don't know why the way he says it makes your stomach flip. he always calls you that—pretty girl, baby, angel—but something about the way he says it now, making it feel different. making it feel real. "yeah," you say. his lips curl into a smirk, like he knows something you don’t. "good," he hums, tugging you closer, his breath warm against your skin. but you don’t let yourself overthink it. instead, you just let yourself melt into him, into the way he holds you like you belong to him.

PARK SUNGHOON

"didn’t know you liked hanging around idiots," sunghoon mutters, arms crossed as he leans against your doorframe, watching the guy you were with earlier walk away. his jaw is tight, his eyes sharp, and you don’t miss the way he kept cutting the poor guy off mid-sentence, dismissing him like he was nothing. "he’s not an idiot," you say, but sunghoon just scoffs, pushing past you into your room like he owns the place. "sure," he deadpans, flopping onto your bed, arms behind his head like he’s totally unbothered. except, he is. you saw the way he glared, the way his fingers twitched when the guy got a little too close. you crawl in next to him, and immediately, his arm hooks around your waist. "he's so annoying, i think you should ditch him," sunghoon mumbles.

KIM SUNOO

"you’re not even listening," you pout, nudging sunoo’s arm, but he just laughs, soft and sweet, shaking his head. "i am," he says, but his eyes tell a different story. he’s watching you like you’re the only thing that matters, like every word out of your mouth is something he wants to memorize. the fond smile on his lips only grows as you ramble on, completely unaware of the way he looks at you. "then what did i just say?" you challenge, crossing your arms. he hums, like he’s thinking, but really, he’s just admiring you. "something about… your coworker being annoying," he guesses, grinning when you roll your eyes. "lucky guess," you mumble. sunoo just hums, resting his chin on his hand. "whatever, pretty girl," he murmurs.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon always lets you steal his hoodies, even when he grumbles about it, even when he pretends to snatch it back just to hear you whine. you wonder if friends do that, if friends pull you into their side when you’re cold and give you their hoodie. “you think too much in that brain of yours,” jungwon murmurs, flicking your forehead before tugging the hoodie’s hood over your head. his fingers linger at your chin, like they belong there. you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away. “i was just thinking about how you suck at being just a friend,” you tease, and he laughs, shaking his head. “yeah?” he hums, tilting his head, eyes locked on yours. “then stop thinking.” and when he pulls you in closer, you really, really do.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki flicks your forehead, grinning when you scowl. “you’re so slow, hurry up,” he teases, pulling you closer by the sleeve of your hoodie. your phone buzzes, and you glance down, catching the matching phone cases between your hands. “stop looking at me like that,” riki groans, shoving his own phone in his pocket, but you catch a glimpse of his wallpaper—your face, mid-laugh, the same one you have of him. “weirdo,” you mutter, flipping your hand to show the silver ring on your finger, identical to his. “says the one who wanted matching rings.” riki snorts, tugging at your pinky. “you agreed.” you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. it’s never been talked about—why he does these things, why you let him—but when he looks at you like that, like you’re his favorite thing in the world, you think maybe you don’t need to.

[yougavememyopia]

Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"

[itsmarsss]

Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 

And you won. This time, you fucking won. 

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused. 

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?” 

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet. 

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 

After a few minutes, he does. 

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 

“I- yes. Yeah.” 

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 

You can feel his smile. 

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 

“What- what do you want me to do?” 

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 

 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 

“Go on, baby.” 

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 

“Holy shit,” he agrees. 

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

[fatuismooches]

No other reason for this other than me being self-indulgent and having some fun. Dottore and Fragile Reader of course.

Prime Dottore - About You:

"If you were expecting me to... gush about them and whatnot, then your expectations are nonsensical. I have nothing to share with you about them. I merely have three things to say. Do not get close to them, do not make them upset, and do not get in my way, regardless of what I have to do to make them better."

Omega - About You:

"...[Name]? Their time is far too valuable to be spent around the likes of you. Speaking of, have you seen them? ...You say they're with another segment now? A pity. It's a shame they're always swept away by the others. I could please them far more than anyone else in any matter. I suppose I will need to think of a way to retrieve them yet again."

Alpha (Akademiya) - About You:

"Do you know how many pens and pencils I've broken due to [Name]? Even centuries later they still find the need to debate me on certain topics, academic or not, challenge my research and thinking, and criticize my handwriting. Truly an annoyance. If only they were able to be with me a bit longer... What? They are annoying, but I still acknowledge that they have the traits of a true scholar. And their voice is still much more agreeable than the others I have to work with..."

Beta (Webttore) - About You:

"Hehe, what a loyal assistant they are. They can pick apart different parts and mechanics with ease. Much more competent than that man I disposed of a while ago, on that expedition... along with all the others. Unfortunately, I only have a limited amount of time with them. Really, is it so difficult to find someone with even a third of their ability? Actually, that is a foolish question. No one could ever hope to compare to them."

Delta - About You:

"They have an exceptional talent for pestering me at any given moment, somehow seeking me out wherever I am easily. If only they could put their mind into something more productive. Why do I not simply ignore them? Because they do not stop until they've gotten their desired results, just like me. I'd rather not prolong their prodding.

Zeta - About You:

"... As long as they are well, I need not know anything else. Their health is of utmost priority."

Zandy - About You:

"[Name]? Oh, they're the best, most nicest and fun grown-up ever! I'm never alone now that they're around! They're always willing to play with me and they always yell at the other segments when they're being mean. They're never scared at all... [Name] could probably beat Prime in a fight if they wanted. Hmm? But they can't even throw a punch? That doesn't matter! They're much stronger than you think - I've witnessed it many times."

Pierro - About You:

"When I first recruited Dottore from the desert and gave him his Harbinger position, one of the first things he did was set up a room to monitor [Name]'s condition. He did so for hundreds of years, creating numerous segments to help, and it ended up paying off. It is not my place to pry into his life, as long as he fulfills his duties as the Tsaritsa requests, but now that they're by his side again, he seems... never mind."

Capitano - About You:

"I once encountered them when they managed to sneak out of the lab. They were... intriguing and talkative. They weren't scared in the slightest and were more interested in how I managed to befriend all the creatures near me. They wanted... tips on how to convince the Doctor to let them have a pet. I don't think I was very helpful."

Columbina - About You:

"The Doctor is engrossed with his research, but the only thing he truly has a soft spot for is his dearest [Name]. He hides his feelings exceptionally well, but anyone who witnesses him around them can tell the difference. Don't tell him I said this though, you know how he'll act.~ But do tell [Name] this, they're sure to get flustered. ♪"

Arlecchino - About You:

"They have made attempts to get closer to me, but I'm afraid I have no interest in building a relationship with them. Still, I've always thought that their character would be similar to that of the Doctor, but from what I've seen of them, that does not seem to be the case. So, I do wonder if those two opposites truly get along."

Pulcinella - About You:

"I have seen many things in this long life of mine, so unlike many others, their relationship with Dottore does not surprise me too much. Still, they have much to learn if they feel the need to come and ask me for relationship advice. If you ask me, I believe that they don't truly know how much the Doctor values them, even if it is as clear as day."

Wanderer - About You:

"The Doctor's little pet? Every time I saw them, they were always scurrying behind one of the segments, as if they were attached by the hip. I don't know what transpired between the two of them for this relationship to happen, but out of all the people who associate with Dottore, they're bound to meet the nastiest end."

Sandrone - About You:

"The Doctor? [Name]? I have no care for either of them. I am much too busy with my own work to think about his worthless love life. However, I do suppose the idea is entertaining - Dottore being capable of love is as laughable as thinking an Automaton can learn to cherish another, and this [Name] person is equally as idiotic for believing so."

La Signora - About You:

"[Name], you say? I can't claim to know much about them. Everything I've heard is through the mouths of others, mostly from agents who talk more than what's good for them, but especially the Balladeer. What are they really like - a harmless and fragile sweetheart? A tool for the Doctor? His equally as heartless accomplice? Or all of the above? All I can say, however, is that it takes one to know one, right?"

Pantalone - About You:

"Ah, the little one. I am more than familiar with them, although Dottore would loathe to hear that. Did you know the Doctor is more prone to jealousy than you think? It is most amusing to see his ever-confident smirk fall once you get a bit too close to [Name]. I vividly remember the time when I said I would accompany [Name] to a ball instead, as he was too busy with his research. He never changed his mind as quickly as he did once I promised to dance with them."

Childe - About You:

“I’ve always thought Dottore was eccentric, and after meeting [Name], I can say they are equally as weird as him, solely for choosing him as their husband. Their personality is nothing like his either - they are bubbly, affectionate, and most of all… extremely weak. Traits that Dottore has no interest in. And yet the segments seem to fawn over them… I just don’t understand them. I just hope they know what they’re getting into.”

Furina - About You:

"Whenever I see them, [Name] always make sure to arrange a tea party with their own homemade Sumerian sweets! It is truly a delight. I admit, I am a bit jealous of their skill. It's as if they have the experience of a hundred years! But of course, that's impossible. Regardless, they are very kind, and they also seem to have a particular liking for romantic films... an odd thing for someone affiliated with the Fatui to like."

Nahida - About You:

"A raven and a sparrow - two beings that are surely bound to be apart from each other, but when it comes to the Doctor and [Name], it seems that even the impossible becomes possible. Though my feelings toward them will not change because of what they've done, I can't help but be interested. What lengths will the Outcast go to cure the one he holds dear, and would [Name] still be able to love him if he becomes more of a monster?"

[littlewriters-posts]

Phoenix - Damon Salvatore

Part two of the request I got the other day

part one is here

https://www.tumblr.com/littlewriters-posts/751027674692059136/hey-darling-can-i-request-the-damon-salvatore-x?source=share

Plot: Y/N comes to mystic falls as a foster kid, knowing nothing of the supernatural world. The catch? Y/N lost all her memories, of the past 150 years.

Stefan had sworn both Elena and Damon to secrecy.

Damon had come storming in, his usual stony expression riddled with worry, interrupting Stefan and Elena, announcing the arrival of his old love - that somehow she had come back to life.

Elena was sceptical at first "Are you sure it's not just another doppelganger curse?" she asked, a frown on her face. The name rang bells in her head but she couldn't quite place why.

Stefan shook his head "No, she told Damon she had the Phoenix curse. Not too unsimilar from your one actually, apparently she when she dies she gets reborn again from the ashes, all memories wiped,"

"Except when she wore that necklace," Damon interjected "If we could just find it, we could get her memories back!"

And she would remember me, went unspoken.

Stefan sucked his teeth slightly. Part of him wanted to dismiss Damon's hope, but the other half recognized that this was the first ounce of humanity Damon had shown in years.

"What did you say her name was again?" Elena asked

"Y/N, L/N," Damon said "Apparently she's now living with your friend, the Bonnie," he raised his eyebrows at her, as if demanding an explanation.

Elena's eyes widened "Oh my god," she muttered to herself before turning back to Stefan "Bonnie said that her Grams had signed the papers to adopt this girl, Bonnie said it came out of nowhere. But then she died, and demanded that Bonnie's dad do it instead,"

"Y/N, from my time anyway, was very close to the Bennet witches," Stefan mused silently.

"Yeah they spent years looking for her, and failing," Damon added

Stefan then turned very serious "Damon if she is Y/N you cannot go near her. Remember she doesn't know you, and you don't want to scare her away,"

"I won't scare her away," Damon said looking mildly offended "I am the eternal stud, everyone loves me,"

Stefan rolled his eyes "We really need to find out if it is her first, or just some weird coincidence,"

"What so she can fall in love with some boring human?" Damon asked snidely.

Elena stood up, looking sympathetically at Damon, which he hated.

"Look she loved you once right? I'm sure she'll love you again," she reassured and Damon scoffed so she continued. "She'll be with Bonnie on Monday, I'll become friends with her first, then we can go from there,"

Damon grumbled, but seemed satisfied with that answer, and disappeared upstairs without another word.

Stefan walked up to Elena, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"As much as I hate to say it, he's not the same person he was when he first met her, and chances are she's exactly the same,"

Elena sighed "We'll see what she's like on Monday,"

Y/N was terrified. Dressed in her flares and green top that Bonnie had kindly bought for her, she faced herself in the mirror.

The thought of being in the same room as people she didn't know made her feel rather sick.

"You'll be fine," Bonnie reassured, leaning on the door "Come on, I'll drive you,"

Y/N nodded, brushing all negative thoughts out of her head as she followed her new friend out of the door.

She tried to focus on Bonnie's voice as she chatted at her, telling her all the school drama as if knowing that would help her fit in more with the rest of the group.

But all she could focus on was the outside world, and how different yet familiar it seemed to her.

"We're here," Bonnie announced "Come on, Elena and Caroline are meeting us inside,"

Y/N nodded, giving the other girl a grateful smile. Bonnie had already told her everything about the two others girls, Elena was the sweet one who's parents died in a car crash, and Caroline was slightly outspoken, but lovely when you got to know her.

Elena hadn't told her friends about Damon's history with the new girl, for some reason it didn't seem right. She didn't want to taint anyone's view of the girl before they met her.

Y/N hid behind Bonnie slightly, as they approached the two girls who were waving excitedly at them.

Caroline was quick to embrace Y/N in a hug "Oh I am so excited you're here! It's about time we got some new people in this town,"

Elena rolled her eyes with a smile "It's nice to meet you," she said

As Elena studied Y/N she couldn't help but think that she was nothing like she imagined. She pictured someone meddlesome, someone stony faced and cold hearted like Damon not - not this.

Elena watched as Y/N gave a shy smile, her head held high but fidgeting fingers giving away her nerves.

She reminded her of a baby deer...or lamb...or maybe an otter. Something vulnerable.

"How are you finding it? Have you ever been to school before?" Caroline asked. Elena smacked her arm

"Caroline!" she exclaimed and Caroline looked sheepish.

"Sorry,"

Y/N shook her head with a smile "It's okay, I don't mind answering questions. I - I actually have amnesia, I don't remember anything until I reached about sixteen? Then I was home-schooled by my foster mom,"

Caroline stared at her with wide eyes "So you've never been to a party?"

Y/N shrugged "I mean I might have done, I just won't remember it,"

"Well you're in luck, the founders ball is soon!" Caroline practically squealed "I won Miss Mystic Falls last year, so I can help pick out your dress!"

Y/N hesitated, the thought of entering the hall with yet more people was giving her heart palpations, but she also wanted to make friends.

"Sure, when?" she asked with a smile

"How about Saturday?" Caroline asked and Y/N looked to Bonnie for help.

"We'll be there," Bonnie reassured and Y/N sighed with relief, at least there would be somebody she knew.

"What class have you got first?" Caroline asked, reading Y/N scheduled over her shoulder "Oh no fair! You'll be with Elena and Bonnie," she sighed dramatically.

"ooo History with Mr Tanner, good luck," Elena said, giving Y/N a smile "He's evil,"

Y/N laughed "Surely he can't be that bad,"

Y/N was wrong.

Not only did Mr Tanner sit her at the back in between a boy called Matt Donavon, he also sat her behind another boy called Stefan Salvatore, who was so tall she had very little hope to see the board in-front of the class.

And then he had the audacity to ask her question's in-front of the entire class.

She was quite sure he face was utterly red, and Stefan turned round to face her, making the redness worse.

"It's okay, he did that to me the first time as well, he's a dick," he reassured and Y/N felt the sudden urge to hide under her desk.

"Thankyou," she whispered, her eyes lowering to her paper and Stefan gave her a soft smile, trying not to show his concern.

If he had any doubts now they were sealed. He only knew one person who looked that panicked when talking to people, and he could recognize that face anywhere.

Unfortunate it meant she was still the same person that she was before, and Damon wasn't.

After history Y/N was grateful to Caroline, who talked her ear off on who was hot and who was not, although she found herself growing weary of the constant chatter and found her gaze wandering across the courtyard.

A large crow caught her eye, as it stared at her unblinkingly.

"We're going to the Grill after school wanna come?" Bonnie asked, cutting Caroline off her rant as she did so.

"I'd love that," Y/N said softly, breaking her gaze from the bird.

"What have you got next?" Elena asked

"Er - maths," Y/N replied, checking her schedule.

"Ah shoot, we've all got Biology," Bonnie said sympathetically

"It's okay, Stefan has maths, he can show you the way!" Elena interjected, smiling at her friend.

Y/N grimaced, as much as she didn't have anything against the boy, she'd take getting lost as appose to having to strike up a conversation with a stranger.

"I don't want to bother him," she said quietly.

Elena shook her head, before waving Stefan over from where he sat on the bench.

"You'll like him, he's quiet like you," Caroline reassured and Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"Ignore her," she said smiling apologetically.

"What did I say?" Caroline frowned, but Y/N smiled.

"It's okay, I get what she meant."

Caroline smiled from ear to ear. She often felt out of place, constantly saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, or saying it the wrong way and getting reprimanded. But Y/N made her feel understood.

"Do you mind walking Y/N to maths?" Elena asked Stefan as he approached.

"Sure," he shrugged "I'll make sure you don't get lost,"

Y/N smiled gratefully, not quite meeting his eyes before waving goodbye to her friends and following alongside him.

"How are you finding your first day?" he asked eventually, noticing her fidgeting hands immediately.

"It's okay, just a lot of people," she shrugged, glancing around at the people shoving past her and she shrank a little.

"Must be overwhelming," he mused thinking slightly "You know there's a graveyard not far from here - sounds dark but I find it's the only place you can really get some peace and quiet,"

Y/N looked up at him, for the first time meeting his eyes. "Thankyou," she said earnestly. "I've only got a half day today, something about adjusting to school life, so I might go after then - where is it?"

"Turn right out of school, go down the road to the old bridge and turn left," Stefan said simply as Y/N hurried to jot it down.

Someone with her sense of direction had to be prepared.

"Great and er - how do I get to the Grill from there?" she asked nervously.

Stefan didn't judge "Follow the middle path into the woods, keep going and then go left at the second turning. Turn right when you get to the old building. Just follow that path and it'll lead you back to the street,"

She thanked him again, feeling slightly relieved that she wouldn't have to navigate it without help, nor would she have to ask a complete stranger.

After Maths, Y/N bid goodbye to the younger Salvatore brother, before texting the girls where she was going, and that she would meet them at the grill later. With Stefan's direction's written down, she was sure she wouldn't get lost, and too her relief she didn't.

So there she sat, next to a random grave, her head resting against the cool stone.

In her hands lay a notebook, the date marked clearly at the top as she jotted her thoughts down.

Her doctor had suggested a diary, after losing your memory for no apparent reason there was no evidence to suggest it wouldn't happen again.

She didn't notice Damon watched her from the shadows, a pained look on his face. He hated the way she looked so tense, her fingers often pulling at the strands of hair that had escaped the messy braid. He could even smell the blood that came from her bitten lips.

But what he hated most was how she was exactly the same. The same slight crease between the brows, the same nervous fidget patten, the same soft hum as she wrote.

It was like she had never changed, like nothing had ever changed her.

He wanted to speak to her, even for a moment but he stopped himself. She hadn't changed, but he had. Even if she did, even if she could, remember him, would she still love him after learning everything he had done? Everyone he had killed?

Would she be able to see past the scars he's obtained and his bloody hands and still be able to see him?

He didn't know. And that killed him.

So there in the shadows he stayed, watching and praying that she would be kept safe.

Y/N shut her book with a sigh, stuffing it back in her bag. She glanced at her phone and saw that it was time to go, surprised that she had been this long.

But it was nice, the quiet, it made her feel whole again.

"Right, to the Grill we go," she muttered, biting her lip slightly.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and started walking down the middle path. She was unaware the Damon was still watching her with the same pained expression.

She came to the turning and abruptly turning, feeling rather pleased with herself as she did so for not getting lost.

As she walked she took out the slip of paper she had jotted the directions down in, and to her absolute horror the ink had smudged.

"Oh no. Oh nononono," she muttered, looking around herself in horror. She remembered something about turning near a building but what building was that?

She turned, telling herself she would just go back the way she came and ask for help, before realising the path she was walking down was a forked path and she couldn't remember which one she had taken.

"Oh crap crap crap," she whispered.

She felt the air around her grow colder, her lungs fighting for air as she tried not to panic. She'd been lost before, she'd be fine. It's not like Mystic Falls was dangerous.

Behind his hiding place, Damon cursed himself. He looked at her panic stricken face, the face he'd seen a thousand times before when she was forced into social situations, and felt his heart tug slightly.

"You lost?"

Y/N whirled around, her eyes wide and heart pounding, before coming face to face with the man she met her first night of Mystic Falls.

"Damon?" she questioned, frowning slightly "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, walking towards her trying to look as non threatening as possible. "I like it here, it's quiet,"

Y/N relaxed slightly "Stefan said the same thing - you're related aren't you? Same last name and all,"

Damon smirked slightly "Brothers," he responded. "So are you lost?"

Y/N's cheeks reddened slightly, a slight pout on her lower lip "If I say no, will you save me my dignity but help me anyway?"

Damon laughed "So you've got an abysmal sense of direction, it's not the worst thing to be bad at - come on, it's this way,"

"How do you know where I'm going?" she asked

Damon froze for a second before recovering "Stefan's going to the Grill too, I just assumed,"

Y/N shrugged, falling comfortably into step besides him. She couldn't tell what it was, but she felt more at ease with him than anyone she'd met so far at Mystic Falls. Like she already knew him.

"They go out a lot, I don't know how they do it," she mused, covering up a yawn.

Damon eyed her carefully, not wanting to come off like he was staring but also unable to tear his gaze away from her.

"You could just not go?" he offered but she shook her head.

"I can't, I need to go to the Grill anyway to ask about any jobs they've got going there," she sighed "These girls love shopping,"

Damon frowned "Job? Aren't you a little young to have to work? You should be out their partying," he smirked.

Y/N wrinkled her nose "Plenty people my age work Damon, I'm not a child. Besides, I don't have any family money...or any family and once I turn eighteen I don't get any support anymore,"

Damon said nothing at first. Money had never been an issue for him, he was a Salvatore after all, and his powers of persuasion meant he could get anything he wanted if he was smart about it. But she was just playing a human over and over again, with nothing to fall back on.

"Well I'm sure you'll find something," he said finally "Mystic Falls is fully of rich people, which mean nobody wants to work," he said amusedly and Y/N laughed.

"Alright Miss Y/N, you're here," Damon announced waving his hand in-front of his as if she would miss The Grill building right in-front of her.

"Thankyou so much Damon, that's twice you've helped me out now - I can't thank you enough," Y/N said sweetly, smiling up at him.

Damon swore he felt his dead heart stop.

"It's no problem - just do me a favour and don't tell my brother. He doesn't like me much,"

Y/N didn't question it as she waved goodbye to him and stepped into the restaurant to meet her friends.

Damon watched her through the window, still not wanting to tear his eyes away from her. His attention soon diverted to the bar manager coming out the store for his smoke break.

Within a flash Damon was next to him, forcing the man to look him dead in the eye as he did so.

"You are going to accept Y/N L/N into whatever job she wants, with whatever hours she requires and pay her double for working weekends," he said lowly.

Compulsion really was handy.

In the bar, Y/N was laughing with Caroline, the other two not appearing yet.

"So who's your date going to be?" Caroline asked gleefully, "I mean you don't have to have one, but you also kinda do if you want to go for Miss Mystic Falls," she added.

Y/N shrugged "I don't really know anyone Caroline, I'm quite happy just to watch and support you,"

Caroline's features softened slightly "You're so sweet," she gushed "Elena and Bonnie don't really like it, they think it's old fashioned,"

"Well it is," Y/N pointed out "But just because something is traditionally feminine doesn't mean you can't enjoy it,"

Caroline smiled "See this is why I like you, you just get it. So tell me, any cute guys caught your eyes yet?"

Y/N shook her head with a smile "Is that all that goes on through your head?" she asked.

Caroline shrugged "You'd only say that if you were deflecting!" she pointed out "Spill,"

"There isn't! I've met like, three guys since I've been here, one of the is Elena's boyfriend and the other is her ex!"

"So who's the third?" Caroline asked, her eyes widening.

Y/N blinked - she hadn't expected Caroline to catch onto that little detail. She gulped slightly, the feeling of tightness returning to her chest. Damon hadn't wanted Stefan to know about him helping her - and Caroline would surely tell him. But she also didn't want to lie.

"Oh erm...I met him on my first day. I got lost finding Bonnie's house and he helped me,"

Caroline clapped her hands together "Oh my goodness! What did he look like, was he hot? What was his name?"

Y/N laughed slightly, amused by the blonde's actions "I don't know, he was tall, dark hair. Really sweet,"

"Oh I bet it was Tyler! You know he's been staring at you all day," Caroline gushed and Y/N blinked.

"Tyler?" she questioned the name foreign on her tongue.

Caroline nodded "Yeah he's on the football team! A bit of a douche but when he likes you he's just the sweetest,"

Y/N nodded slightly, her gaze shifting round the bar "Does anyone at school work?" she asked nervously and Caroline's gaze shifted into one of sympathy.

"Yeah, Matt actually works here. And Tyler sometimes helps his dad with Mayor stuff,"

Y/N nodded, the gnawing pit in her stomach growing slightly. She hadn't even considered that people would look down on her for having a job before Damon's tone of voice told her otherwise.

"But don't worry, no one will care. A girl called Vicky used to work here, and nobody picked on her for having a job," Caroline reassured

Y/N then spotted the manager who was heading back to the bar. "Oop - there he is - wish me luck!"

"Good luck sweetie, hope you get it!"

As Y/N walked over, she mustered the courage to actually look the man in the eyes as she spoke to him, hoping that forcing herself to make eye contact would help.

"Hi," she gave a small awkward wave "I'm Y/N L/N, I was just wondering if you had any waitressing jobs going,"

The Managers eyes seem to shift a little, before he responded with a great smile on his face "Of course! Someone just left today so we have an opening. We can fit the hours around you, and you get double when you work on weekends,"

"Oh!" exclaimed Y/N, not expecting it to be that easy. In fact she was kind of upset since she had a whole speech written on how she would be a great worker. "Oh great, when can I start?" she asked.

"How about next Wednesday? Wednesdays are the quietist days, so we'll have plenty of time to show you the ropes,"

Y/N tried to hide her excitement "Great - thankyou so much!" she called over her shoulder as she practically raced back to the table.

Bonnie and Elena had arrived, sitting down in the vacant seats.

"Did you get it?" Caroline asked and Y/N nodded happily. The girls applauded her, giving her hugs and for the first time Y/N felt truly in place.

"What you can still come shopping with us right?" Elena asked worriedly and Y/N nodded,

"Yeah he said I start on Wednesday and I can pick my hours," Y/N said, taking a sip of her drink.

"Nice," Elena said approvingly "Well done Y/N,"

Y/N blushed a little "Thank Elena,"

Non of them noticed Damon, sat in the corner facing away from them, a small smile on his face.

Saturday rolled around sooner than Y/N had expected and she found herself slightly dreading it. As much as she loved her friends, they were richer than she was and whilst they would be looking at the prettiest dress, she would be looking at the price tag that came with it.

But as she entered the dress shop with her friends, all thoughts soon vanished as she laughed at Caroline's dramatics.

"I wish we could of found you a date - you would have had such a great shot at winning," Caroline said sadly but Y/N shrugged.

"I'd rather just sit and watch then have to dance with somebody I don't know," she replied.

"Well still...I'm going to try this dress on!" she announced picking up a blue number.

Elena patted Y/N shoulder "Ignore her, it doesn't really matter," she reassured. "Which one should I try on?" she then asked, holding up two almost identical dresses.

"Both of them," Y/N replied simply "We've got all day haven't we - and Bonnie why don't you try that green one over there, you'd look stunning!"

Bonnie smiled, grabbing the green dress to change.

It was then a dress in the corner corner caught Y/N's eye, it was a dusty purple, the slight jewels encrusting the top. It was beautiful.

She glanced at the tag.

Way out of her price range.

"Would you like to try it on?" The shopkeeper asked gently but Y/N shook her head.

"No it's okay, it's way out of my budget anyway,"

The shopkeeper bit her lip, "You can try it on anyways, no harm in a little dress up,"

Y/N looked at her hopefully.

"Really?"

The shopkeeper nodded with a smile and Y/N's smile brightened, as she rushed into the changing room.

The dress fit her perfectly, hugging her figure in all the right places before flaring at the bottom. The colour seemed to make her skin glow.

Too bad it was too expensive.

"Come on, let us see!" Caroline begged and Y/N sighed, opening the curtain and letting the girls squeal over it.

"Oh it fit's you perfectly!" Bonnie remarked "You need to get it,"

Y/N shook her head with a smile "And buy the first dress I try on?" she responded, not wanting to tell them that it was simply too expensive.

"See - she get's it," Caroline said with a laugh "No go change so we can try more stuff on," she pulled the curtain back over her friend.

She sighed, wriggling out of the dress with difficulty before placing it back on the hanger.

She handed it to the shopkeeper with a smile.

"It was beautiful but I just can't afford it," she said sadly.

The shopkeeper nodded understandingly "We have a sale section over there if you'd like?"

Y/N nodded, before spotting Caroline sorting through many dresses in her arms.

"Got enough there Caroline?" she asked amusedly and the blonde sighed in exasperation.

"I just don't know which one to pick, I wore blue when I won last year, but I've already worn blue," she tutted putting the blue dress back on the rails. "You found anything yet?" she asked.

Y/N thought back to the purple dress, but didn't want her friend to pity her.

"No, I might come back another day," she said softly. Or to another cheaper shop she added in her head.

"I'm starving, shall we go to the grill?" Bonnie asked.

"We go there all the time, I'm sick of chips and the smell of beer," Caroline whined. "Can't we go back the the Salvatore house, they always have great snacks,"

Elena hesitated. Her and Stefan were trying everything they could to keep Damon from doing something rash, and that meant trying to keep Y/N away from him.

"I'm actually kind of tired," Elena said, yawning. "Why don't we go to that smoothie place downtown and then we can all go home?"

That seemed to go down well with the rest of the group, and Caroline quickly bought Y/N's smoothie before the other two could notice, and before she could protest.

"Don't worry about it," she brushed off when Y/N tried to pay her back, so the girl just sipped her smoothie in peace.

When Y/N arrived home, she was utterly exhausted from the full day, and was about to collapse on the bed when she noticed a parcel on it.

She frowned, wondering who on earth would have put it there. She's been with the girls all day and Bonnie's dad was away on business.

Perhaps Elena had Stefan drop it off, or maybe Bonnie had snuck in whilst Y/N was downstairs.

She opened the box carefully and gasped.

Inside it was the same dusty purple dress she had tried on in the shop.

She gingerly took it from the box, looking everywhere for some kind of tag to say who it was from but there was nothing.

"Bonnie?" she called uncertainly, not knowing whether or not to be excited about it.

Bonnie came in, fresh out the shower and drying her hair. "You o - oh you bought it!" she gushed remarking at the dress.

But Y/N shook her head.

"No I couldn't afford it, it was just here when I got back,"

Bonnie frowned "Oh...maybe Caroline bought it for you then? You know what she's like,"

"Yeah," Y/N echoed staring at the mystery dress "Do you think I should wear it?"

Bonnie nodded "I mean it would be rude not to, and it is a beautiful dress. Besides what harm could a dress do?"

Y/N shrugged, putting the dress on the hanger and hanging it outside her wardrobe, admiring it in the light, before a tap on the window startled her.

She whirled around, only to see a crow staring at her unblinking through the glass pane.

"Oh shit," Bonnie muttered, her eyes wide "Y/N I'm just gonna make a phone call okay?" she said quickly, before practically running out of the room.

But Y/N attention was on the bird as she opened her window for it.

"You hungry?" she asked and threw the bird a bit of bread. It just stared at her some more, before flying away. She shrugged, closing the window.

Back at the Salvatore household, Elena and Stefan rounded on Damon with narrowed eyes.

"Tell me why Y/N has just received a dress that she didn't buy, but was trying on earlier today?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

Damon scoffed "I don't owe you an explanation," he said snidely.

Elena shook her head "You need to stay away from her Damon, she doesn't remember you. You're just going to end up hurting yourself,"

Damon shook his head "I didn't go near her did I? I bought her a dress that she wanted, and she doesn't even know it was me. Tell her Caroline bought it, she's always doing stuff like that,"

Stefan had so far said nothing, not even when Elena turned to him for backup. Instead he was looking at his brother with a saddened expression.

"It's okay," he finally said with a sigh "I mean, it's not like he's hurting her,"

Elena pursed her lips, not wanting to admit that she simply just didn't trust Damon around her new friend. But she had to admit, she met Damon when he was at his worst, and Y/N originally met him when he was still human.

Damon said nothing, but carried his bottle of bourbon up to his room.

"Maybe they should meet," Stefan said lowly "I mean, he's not going to kill her,"

Elena shook her head "So he can take his pain out on other people when she doesn't fall in love with him? You said so yourself, Damon's a monster - and Y/N just doesn't seem like the type to deal with that,"

Stefan stared into the fire, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What if they met here? That way we could keep an eye on Damon, make sure he doesn't do anything too rash, but at least he wouldn't be secretly trying to see her without us knowing,"

"Okay," Elena nodded, "But after the founder's ball next week, I can only focus on so many things at once,"

Y/N found herself in two minds over the founders ball. On the one hand, it was quite exciting to be getting dressed up and ready with her new found friends, but on the other hand, it was a long day to be around people.

She tried to push that thought out of her mind until Bonnie said,

"We're all having an after party at the Salvatore's, so I'll drive you there after,"

Y/N tried not to show her grimace "Do I need to bring spare clothes?" she asked and Bonnie shrugged.

"I'm pretty sure Caroline will change into another dress, but me and Elena will be going casual so it's up to you,"

Y/N then crammed a skirt and jumper into her bag, with some joggers in case it got too cold.

After Bonnie helped her tie the corset laces on her dress, the sudden restriction of breath was noticeable but not uncomfortable.

"You look stunning," Bonnie reassured, seeing the fleeting look o nerves overtake her friends face. "Now listen, I'm driving but me and Elena and Caroline all have to go upstairs because of the Miss Mystic Falls thingy, but we'll come find you as soon as we can okay?"

Y/N nodded, deciding against speaking for the fear that the nerves would make her be sick. She was nervous, and she didn't even have a part to play.

She was grateful for the three girls as they all chatted in the car, meaning that she didn't have too, and even as they left to go upstairs, Y/N gave them a small smile and wished them good luck.

Now what.

She glanced around the room, feeling suddenly very small as she realised she didn't really know anybody in there. She settled by grabbing a glass of champagne that she knew she wouldn't drink and settling in the corner, watching everyone go by in their dresses.

She watched and clapped as one by one the elected girls descended the stairs, each one getting an applause before moving to the middle of the room.

"That's a beautiful dress," Came a voice, and Y/N jumped slightly, turning towards the sound of the voice. Her demeanour relaxed slightly as she realised who it was.

"Hello Damon," she said, her smile more genuine. "And thankyou, I'm not entirely sure who got it for me, but I love it,"

Damon said nothing, but a small smile played on his lips.

"You don't look to be enjoying yourself," he acknowledged and she sighed.

"I know, I'm just...I hate crowds," she admitted "I'm so glad you're here, finally a face I recognize,"

Damon stared at her a little, the want to let all of his emotions tumble off his tongue was great, but he knew that it would be a disaster if he did so.

"You owe me a favour, Since I have rescued you what - twice now?" he asked teasingly.

Y/N rolled her eyes "Alright Mr Salvatore, what do you want?" she went along playfully.

"A dance," he replied simply, extending his hand and she laughed nervously.

"I'm a terrible dancer, I don't think I've ever even learnt!" she exclaimed but Damon's blue eyes met her wide ones and she relented a little.

"I'll lead you," he replied gently, taking her hand in his own. "Come on,"

Y/N accepted his hand, gracefully walking to the middle where more couples were now dancing with the original girls.

"This is going to be so embarrassing," she muttered, her eyes darting around as she saw that other people were watching her.

"Hey - look at me," Damon commanded, his tone soft. So she did, his blue eyes staring into her own and she felt her breath hitch slightly. There was something ever so familiar about them, like a safeness that she couldn't quite place, like somewhere she had been before but couldn't quite remember.

And they were dancing, in sync and ever so graceful, neither one of them ever breaking eye-contact with each other.

"Oh my god, is that Y/N with Damon?" Caroline ran up to Elena, horrified and Elena nodded with a grimace.

"It's complicated," Elena whispered back to her friend. "We think Y/N used to be an old friend of his - well old girlfriend - back when Damon was human. But she disappeared, and now she's back. And here's the catch - she doesn't remember any of it,"

Caroline's eyes widened "Y/N a vampire?" she whispered in shock but Elena shook her head.

"No she's cursed, every time she dies she get's born back into the same body, with no memory of the life before,"

Caroline looked at Damon, narrowing her eyes "If I didn't hate him so much I'd feel sorry for him - do you think he still loves her?"

Elena nodded with a sigh "Stefan said he never stopped looking for her after she disappeared,"

Bonnie grimaced "Can we please stop feeling sorry for Mr Killer over there, he's literally killed people Elena. We can't let him have Y/N, we both know he's end up hurting her,"

But as the trio watched Y/N and Stefan dance, even Caroline who hated Damon the most, couldn't help but admit the softness in his eyes when he looked at Y/N. Like a humanity that wasn't there before.

"You're an excellent dancer," Damon remarked, pulling her to the side after the song ended.

"I was only following you," she laughed, "Also why do all these drinks have alcohol in, what's wrong with something that actually taste nice," she said bitterly, setting down a champagne glass with a wrinkled nose.

"I'll get you something," Damon reassured "Wait here,"

Y/N didn't have chance to tell him that he didn't have to, he was already gone.

"I do hope my brother wasn't bothering you," Came the voice of Stefan Salvatore as he walked over to her.

She shook her head "No, he's actually really sweet," she said with a soft smile, glancing back to where he had gone too. "He's actually gone to get me drink since I don't like champagne,"

Stefan raised his eyebrows but didn't comment further on the matter, not daring to spoil her image of his brother.

"Where's Elena?" she asked.

"Gone to find her brother I think," Stefan glanced around to spot his girlfriend who was indeed chatting to her little brother. "I'm driving you all to the afterparty now, but I'm coming back for him because there's no room in the car,"

"I thought Bon was driving?" Y/N asked with a frown but Stefan shook his head.

"She's already drinking," he said amusedly

"No worried Brother, I'll take her," Damon had come back, standing besides Y/N and staring at his brother with an emotion Y/N couldn't quite place. "Got you some orange juice," he said, giving her a slightly smile. She thanked him.

Stefan hesitated, not wanting to start a scene, but also not having an excuse ready.

"Alright," he finally said after staring his brother back some more "We're leaving in ten minutes,"

Stefan then left, and Y/N eyed the que to the toilets with distaste. She didn't fancy waiting in the line just to get changed like many of the other girls were.

"Can we go back sooner?" Y/N asked, and Damon turned back to her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"And why would you want that?" he asked and Y/N's cheeks burned.

"No - I didn't mean-" she stuttered slightly before gathering her thought's and frowning at him "I just want to get changed," she said defiantly.

Damon laughed "Relax I'm just messing with you, come on before Stefan think's I'm kidnapping you,"

Y/N rolled her eyes, put picked up her skirts so they wouldn't trail on the floor, before picking up her bags that she had left in the cloakroom. Or tried to, before Damon took them from her.

"And who would I be if I let a lady carry her own bags," he asked, raising his eyebrows.

She curtseyed playfully "Well thankyou Mr Salvatore," she said mockingly, a slight blush blossoming her cheeks.

She didn't understand why, but she felt more comfortable around Damon than anyone else she had met so far, except perhaps Elena, and she had been around him the least.

But there was something utterly familiar about him.

He gave her a cocky grin before opening the car door for her.

"How long are you going to keep up this gentleman act?" she asked as he got in the drivers seat. He put a hand on his chest in mock offense.

"What makes you think it's an act?" he asked, and Y/N laughed, which was quickly followed by a yawn. "You're sure you're up for a party?" he asked.

Y/N nodded, her head resting against the window watching the scenery drive by.

"Thank-you for being so kind to me," she said, glancing at him. His fingers tightened one the wheel slightly.

"You're welcome," was all he said. As she turned away, he tried desperately not to look at her, not to wear his heart on his sleeve like she wore hers.

"Welcome to the Salvatore party," he said when he arrived "Bathrooms down the hall, go right then wa-I'll show you," he said, realising that she would probably get lost.

He then noticed the slight frown on her face "What's wrong," he asked, concerned.

She shook her head "Nothing, It just looks really familiar,"

Damon shrugged "Looks like any old museum I guess,"

She smiled at him as he opened the door to the bathroom, shutting it behind her as she entered.

"Be quick, or I'll miss you too much," he called out and smiled to himself when he heard her laugh.

In the bathroom, Y/N was quick to get dressed, the only problem being she couldn't quite reach the laced up corset and she groaned.

Stepping timidly out of the bathroom she spotted Damon who was leaning against the wall, staring into space.

"Damon?" she asked, and he turned to her with raised eyebrows. "Ca you help untie me please?"

He froze for a second as she lifted her hair, turning her back to him.

His fingers danced carefully over her skin, the temptation to hold her almost overwhelming but he cleared his throat and pushed that thought out of his head.

He carefully undid all the silk ties, letting him fall beneath his fingers. Y/N clasped the front of the dress tightly, so not to let it fall down.

"There you go," Damon said quietly, almost whispering. Y/N turned to him, almost bumping noses with how close they were.

"Thankyou," she replied softly, glancing into his blue eyes as they studied her own, before clearing her throat and returning to the bathroom to get dressed once more.

Damon leant on the wall his hands rubbing his head.

He needed to get a grip he decided.

Y/N changed into the miniskirt that Elena had leant her, with an oversized jumper that barely brushed the bottom of the skirt.

"Okay I'm all ready," she announced and Damon smiled lazily at her.

"About time, the party is about to get started." he said, leading her away and to where numerous people were already standing and Y/N felt herself shrink behind him slightly.

"Y/N!" Elena announced, grabbing her friend by the arm and leading her away from Damon with a glare to the man. Damon watched, biting the urge to follow her down.

Y/N looked back to him, looking slightly regretful and giving him a soft smile, which he raised his glass too.

"So you and Damon?" Bonnie questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Y/N felt her skin burn slightly "He's really sweet," she said quietly

Caroline screwed her nose up "But-Damon seriously? He's such a dick,"

Elena rolled her eyes "Maybe he just really likes Y/N," she said pointedly to Caroline, who pursed her lips slightly.

For the rest of the night the girls kept a close eye on Y/N, not wanting her to see Damon but also not wanting her too suspect anything. However as the night drew on, the girls got more drunk, and Y/N remained sober allowing her to slip away.

It's not that she wanted away from them in particular, but the crowds were getting far too much for her.

So she found herself wandering the halls of the Salvatore building, the vague familiarity of it making her head spin a little. Her fingers ran down the walls as she walked, feeling the old wallpaper beneath her fingers.

She came to the double doors, and something in the back of her mind was begging her to open it, so she did and gasped.

A library.

It was beautiful, with even a seating area near an old fireplace and rows and rows of books.

She marvelled at the sheer amount, before picking a random one and collapsing on the sofa that was there. It didn't take her long to get comfy, curling up against the arm, the book on her lap.

Back at the party, Damon was looking for her, the slight worry settling in his heart.

He cornered Elena, frowning at her "Where's Y/N?" he demanded "I thought you wanted to keep her safe,"

Elena looked around "I thought she went to find you," she said, the worry edging into her voice, barely audible over the slurring of her words as she danced with an empty cup in her hands.

Damon glowered at her, if it was anybody else she would have had her throat ripped out, but he stopped himself.

"Guess I'll go find her," he said sharply.

It was then the thought occurred to him that Y/N said she found the place familiar, and he was sure that apart from in 1864, she had never stepped foot in the building.

And where did she go whenever there was a party?

The library.

He almost laughed when he saw her, curled up against the arm of the sofa, a book in her lap and utterly oblivious to the world around her.

"We were worried about you," he said smoothly, trying to mask the dying worry in his voice.

Y/N looked up with wide eyes, quickly shutting the book and scrambling to her feet. "Oh God I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. It's just...you have a library in your house," she said weakly, looking embarrassed.

Damon waved her off "You're welcome to use it any time you like, the door is always open,"

Y/N smiled gratefully at him, sitting back down in the seat.

Damon watched as she read, the uncanny similarity between now and when he first met her almost to real to bare. Yet she didn't know him now, just like she didn't know him then.

But maybe she didn't need to remember him, maybe he could get her to fall in love with him a second time.

Y/N shivered slightly, even her thin jumper not quite enough to protect her from the coldness of the large house, especially since the room itself was so big.

Damon eyed her "You look exhausted, want me to take you home?" he asked sincerely.

Y/N shook her head "I can't, Bonnie has the house keys and god knows where she is,"

"You're more than welcome to stay here," Damon said softly and Y/N looked up at him in surprise.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," she declined but Damon shook his head at her.

"It's a boarding house Y/N, we have tons of spare bedrooms for exactly that reason,"

Y/N bit her lip, her eyes downcast as she considered her options. "Only if you're sure," she said finally and Damon resisted the urge to celebrate.

"Come on then sleepy, up to bed," Damon said smirking slightly, helping out of her cozy position on the sofa. She groaned softly as she felt her joints click, but the warmth of Damon's hand in her own made it all worth it.

"Do we have to go through the party?" she whispered as she exited the library.

"God no, Elena would kill me," Damon said mindlessly.

"Why?" Y/N asked curiously and Damon froze, realising what he just said.

"I can be a dick," he responded after a beat. He didn't want to go any further, unsure on what she already knew, and the fear that she would then hate him was evident.

Y/N shrugged "Well, at least you admit it," she said a smile "First step to recovery I guess,"

Damon scoffed "I do not need to recover,"

Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from laughing, which Damon noticed with a slight smile. He opened one of the doors, allowing her to step inside.

"You should find everything you need in here, there's an en-suite so you won't get lost trying to find the bathroom, and there will be some clothes you can sleep in," he said in mischievous tone, a suggestive joke on the tip of his tongue but for some reason he stopped himself before he could say it.

"Thankyou Damon, really," Y/N said sincerely, after marvelling at the room.

Damon nodded at her with a smile, before going to close the door as he left.

"Damon?" Y/N asked, and he popped his head round the door lazily, his blue eyes never leaving hers. "For what it's worth, I like you,"

Damon felt his heart leap into his chest. It wasn't a love confession, he knew that, but she liked him. She wanted to be his friend, and that was a step in the right direction.

"I like you too sleepy, now get some sleep,"

Y/N nodded with a smile, staring at the door as he closed it behind him.

Part of her wanted him to stay, but the other part was content knowing she'd see him in the morning.

[rotagnus]

love/self-growth in march !! 🫐

my usual pick a pile is here, darlings. pick just as usual--if it doesn't speak to you, don't force yourself to choose. there are messages for you that lie elsewhere.

this reading deals with both platonic, familial, and romantic love. don't expect to get a certain aspect of love or the result you want.

-1. ooouu you're a bright person. probably very creative with a tendency to get stuck within your own head. as for love in march, i think that this month will focus on a connection that already exists. maybe you've been working on self-love, and that's what's growing. for some of you, you've adopted a pet recently and that connection is going to grow stronger. if you're crushing on someone right now, there probably won't be any change except for your feelings growing stronger. my advice to you is to decenter this because if you focus completely on that, it'll be really terrible. you are so full of beauty and flame and wonder, and you should harness this energy and create beauty, not look for it elsewhere. time will bring you everything. you deserve a love which knows no bounds, and whether this person is it or not, you must first find that love within. i know a lot of you don't want to hear this, but it's the truth. i would highly suggest trying to talk to this person, though--to find out what they really are. ask deep questions if you're already on a talking basis with them, if not--try to make a friend.

-2. now baby tell me why you've given up on love. it seems to be a sour topic for you that you shy away from. you've done a lot of self-growth in the past ~6 months, and you're farther along on your self-discovery journey than either of these two piles are. for you, you try not to love. a lot of the times, you feel like you are still unseen. this month will bring change to that. i'm not sure what kind of change, i can't exactly tell, but you'll feel a bit more seen than you did before. this may be to personal circumstances, or maybe another person does something--even a simple action--and you realize that, damn, maybe i really am seen. this month will deal with opening up a little bit more to let the love flow in. lol, for pile 1, it's not really time for love, but for you it is; but you've closed all doors to any possible encounters with love. 🤣 listen, i highly suggest doing some exercises for your vulnerability. it's a great step forward, and i think that it could benefit you. if a person comes into your life, let them. but don't be scared to set boundaries and not settle for less.

-3. you have rose-colored glasses, darling. now, don't take this the wrong way. it can be a very great thing, being idealistic--you at your heart are a ruthless optimist and honestly, a little bit naive. you've been dealing with both ups and downs, this past couple of months. there's been some trouble in your family, and in your love life. you're always the one making ends meet in order to benefit mass sums of people. you're awfully responsible and confident, but you're still...you. you still need rest. i feel like most of you are women--babies, you do NOT need to be the men in the relationship, if you're a masculine woman, disregard this. but for a lot of you, you're stuck in this disbalanced masculine energy. i don't really like talking about the divine feminine and divine masculine and whatnot, but for you i feel like it's important. girl, put yourself FIRST. i promise you there's a man/woman/person out there who's gonna bring you flowers every damn day of the week, you just gotta put yourself first. start to say NO. you might meet someone new in march. someone unexpected. i know you've been taught that change is bad, but in this case, just wait a little bit. baby steps, darling. baby steps.

[gh0stly-mp3]

would you break my heart, oliver?

oliver aiku x teammate male!reader

synopisis: oliver aiku, your best friend, shows up at your apartment at 3 AM after breaking up with his gf cause he cheated, but you get mad at him

tags: bff!reader, center back!reader, reader is lovely, oliver is bad with real feelings, both are secretly in love

warnings: cheating, angst w happy ending, fear of unreciprocated love, pretty gn (like 2 mentions of gender)

Oliver is the typical womanizer (but with all genders) who never dates the same person for more than two months. According to him, he gets bored very quickly, which is why he has a new partner every few months.

You, on the other hand, have always been in long-term, consistent relationships, taking a while to confess to whomever you liked and always wanting to make sure that you both feel the same way about each other.

Even though you were opposites, you were still best friends and teammates for a long time, and you always scolded Oliver for his inconsequential attitudes towards his love life (but he hardly ever listened).

The last straw for you was when he showed up at your house at 3 AM because his then-girlfriend kicked him out after discovering he was talking to someone else on instagram. You were incredulous; you knew he was a scumbag, but you didn't expect it to be this bad; after all, he was there when you got cheated on, something that affected you a lot.

"What the fuck, Oliver? What are you thinking, man? Jumping from relationship to relationship is one thing, but cheating is another level! I can't believe this, dude." - You yelled.

"I made a mistake, okay? I'm sorry, it's just..." - Oliver tried to explain himself, visibly nervous about your reaction.

"I don't care! If you stay at my place tonight, tomorrow you'll have to apologize to her and admit that you're an idiot... Oh, and you'll sleep on the couch".

"What? I know i fucked up, but it's cold, man, you always let me sleep with you".

"Not today, cause if you betray the trust of someone who trusted you with their body and heart, why the fuck would anyone else trust you? Grow the fuck up..." - You said harshly, heading for the cupboards and taking out a pillow and a blanket for Oliver. - "Good night, Oliver. We'll talk tomorrow"

As you lay down on your bed, you curled up, clutching your legs. If he could do this to a girl as beautiful as Haruka, what could he do to you? You were just one of his male friends.

You've been friends forever, you were the first guy to talk to Oliver when he joined your team. Your bond was incredible, you understood each other so well, you liked the same things and had the same mindset on a match. You two occupied the same defensive position as center backs, and together you were unstoppable.

But how did it all end up like this? How did you end up falling in love with him? Oliver was incredible at everything except relationships, and the one thing you shouldn't have wanted was exactly what you did want. His love.

You listened to the way he talked about his partners and wished he'd talk about you the same way, but then you remembered what was to follow, a dry and emotionless breakup. How could such a gentleman be such a whore at the same time?

Anyway, there you were, crying silent tears, thinking that if you tried to confess your love for him, you would end up with a heart broken into more than a thousand pieces. While these thoughts were running through your head, you heard footsteps and then a knock on the door.

"Hey... Can we talk? I..." - It was Oliver, speaking in a low, weak voice. "I don't want you to think I'm terrible..."

"Oliver, not now..." - You replied, distressed at the thought of him seeing you cry. - "It's okay, man..."

"Promise you won't hate me?" - He asked, scared. - "I didn't know you'd be so pissed off and... You're the only person I really have, I don't want to lose you over something I did without thinking..." - Definitely something you'd rarely hear come out of Oliver's mouth, he was finally putting his real feelings into something.

"It's not that, Oliver..." - The words, stuck in your throat, urgently wanted to come out. Just say it, three words, that's all. - "I..."

The door handle is pushed down slowly, you see the face of a distressed Oliver, which makes your heart squeeze a bit. You don't hate him, it's quite the opposite actually, but you can't tell him that, can you?

"Look... I was a jerk to Haruka, and besides, I did exactly what you said I should never do. I'm sorry, okay? I just don't want you to hate me, even though I might deserve it... I just want to have someone like you around, you know?" - Deep down, Oliver knew exactly what his problem was, his stomach full of fluttering butterflies was a symptom he'd hardly ever felt. A symptom of this so-called love.

"Would you cheat on me? If you loved me, would you betray me too? Would you get tired of me?" - You asked hopelessly, not wanting to hear the answer.

"Never. Absolutely never." - He answered without hesitation. - "You?... only a complete lunatic would cheat on you. For fuck's sake, I've been your friend for years and I've never even been bored around you! I'd give anything to have someone like you!" - Oliver shut up abruptly when he realized that perhaps he had said too much.

"How could I be sure of that?"

"If I cheated on you, I'd give up soccer" - a direct and honest answer, the truth of his heart. Few words would have such an impact on you as those.

You widened your eyes, wondering if you had actually heard those words come out of Oliver's mouth. He would give up soccer for you? Really? A wave of emotions washed over your body and with an impulse you got out of bed and hugged him tightly.

"Please don't give up soccer... Keep playing with me... And love me." - the most heartfelt words you've ever said, put into play, all your cards on the table. Now it was his turn.

"I already love you, idiot."

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I don't know anything about Batman comics but I am very curious, who is this Jean Paul Valley fellow?

(I could google it but I feel like your answer is going to be a lot more enlightening)

okay so imagine you're a grad student just trying to get your degree in computer science. your mom is dead, you've never been close to your dad. you've made the best of it. one night your dad shows up on your doorstep in weird armor, terribly injured, and he dies in your arms telling you that you have to take up his mantle now. what the fuck does that mean? what mantle? oh, okay, turns out he was a warrior for a secret religious order. okay, it turns out all the men in your family have been for generations. alrighty, this is accomplished via childhood programming that creates a secondary warrior personality that lives in your head and comes out when you need to hurt people. maybe even kill them. you don't really want to do that but it also seems like you don't have a choice. sometimes you just kill people with a sword now, I guess. but Batman's here, Batman is going to help. he promised. he takes you under his wing, says he'll teach you how to manage this. you can't stop fighting but you can fight for good, maybe. Batman will show you how. except things are going wrong in the city, and Batman is running himself ragged trying to fix it. he's busy, too busy for you. Robin is trying to help you as best he can, but Robin's just a boy. and things are getting worse, Batman is fading. but you're also getting worse, there are voices in your head. and then Batman nearly dies. he certainly won't be able to walk again, not any time soon. so you're Batman now, I guess. you have barely even know how to be yourself anymore and now you also have to be Batman, and the man who was Batman has disappeared. out of the country to solve another mystery, left the city to you. you don't know what to do. you don't know what to do and people are dying and this city is hell on earth and why? why did he let it get this bad? what the fuck was the old Batman doing? you have to be a better Batman. you have to do whatever it takes to fix this place. maybe the old Batman wasn't hitting hard enough. maybe his enemies should have been more scared of him. maybe he shouldn't have let them get away in the first place. you're so alone. Robin is gone. Batman is gone. the only advice is coming from the voices in your head. you help people, sometimes, but you also feel increasingly disconnected from them. you're not really yourself anymore, are you? you're the voices in your head, your programming. you're Batman. you barely sleep and when you do it's on the floor of a cave, in your armor. and you keep this up until the old Batman comes back. he's walking again; it's a long story. and he wants his name back. he brought the other sidekicks and all three of them hate you, and when they come for you they don't stop until you're stripped of the armor, the mantle, and the name. they kick you out of the cave. you spend months living on the streets of this awful city you couldn't fix, hallucinating and trying to figure out who you are. they leave you like this until Batman comes to find you. you still work for him. he has a job for you. he doesn't like you, isn't even sure he trusts you, but he has a job that needs doing and you're a warm body. you're grateful. what else do you have?

that's Jean Paul Valley.

[s0urw00lf]

Amazed and afraid

Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧: 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐝!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬… 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐍 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐦.

Masterlist - Tag List

Dean had been more accepting than you originally expected him to be when you told him about your origins.

And ever since he found out he’d been begging you non stop about using your powers in front of him. And you wouldn’t budge.

Dean had started to get worried that it was something brutal process that you had to go through every time you sent a soul off.

To be completely fair it was a odd sight to any normal person, but to Sam and Dean it wouldn’t be too bad it was like extracting a demon from a body, except instead of the glowing light that came from the eyes and mouth it was blood.

So not very appealing. You usually sent the boys off before you extracted a soul and they obliged without argument most of the time.

If you would extract souls while fighting it’d make hunts a hell of a lot easier but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

That was until a particularly hard hunt. The three id you were tied up to chairs against three of four large posts.

The girl pissed by a demon sent a punch to your face “look at you, big bad Demi-god bought down by a Demon as low ranking as me” she taunted.

You spat in her face causing her to glare at you “you could kill me right now, what’s stopping you. Don’t want your precious Winchester toy to think any different of you?” She pouted and you could feel Sam and deans eyes on you, now wondering the same.

“If you know what I am why are you stupid enough to do this” you asked not breaking your glare from her.

She smiled standing up and moving to Dean, touching his face gently. He struggled against her hold “get your filthy hands off of me” he shouted. She turned his head towards you and licked the side of his face.

Your blood boiled under your skin “because even though you can kill me I’ve got a sneaky feeling that if your winchesters saw who you really are they’d kick you to the curb.”

You glared at her “maybe so but at least you’ll be dead and gone” you said before focusing on the small portion of a soul she still had, her body fell to the ground as the blood seeped from her mouth and eyes.

Deans eyes laid on you and he took in your appearance, your eyes were black and dark veins filled the bottom of your eyelids.

The veins subsided and your eyes returned to their normal color, sending the soul down to your father, keeping a small portion for yourself.

You kept your eyes off of Sam and Dean. Afraid to see the expressions on their face. You broke free from the bounds of the ropes. Moving to help them out not looking either of them in the eye before you walked out.

Dean looked at his brother who held a sullen expression. Sam understood now, why you’d hidden it. He knew what it was like to feel like a monster. Especially around his brother who had no clue what it was like to be born that way.

Sam gestured so wards where you went with his chin, “Go. Talk to them ill take care of this” he said.

Dean nodded, following you out of the building trying to catch you before you disappeared something you were good at doing.

He caught sight of you before you rounded the corner. He called out your name and you paused involuted , but didn’t turn around.

The two of you stood in silence Dean wasn’t sure what to say. And you, weren’t scared of much but right now you were, afraid he’d cast you away. Or look at you differently, like a monster.

Dean didn’t say anything, and it was driving you crazy, he knew he should’ve said something but he didn’t know what. He didn’t look at you any differently than before, maybe he was a little more amazed and the tiniest bit afraid, but he still felt that same for you.

“Did you tell me to stop so we could just stand here?” You asked, closing your eyes waiting for his words. You heard him take a few steps closer, “sweetheart i- why’d you take off?”

you sigh dropping your head “because dean i can’t- the only reason I wouldn’t show you is because when I’m doing that I’m at my most vulnerable, in those moments i am who i was born and raised to be. A monster, I’m supposed to collect the thing most people cherish dearly. I’m a monster dean, it’s who i am. Without the demons and the blood i was born to do this my father is king of the underworld” tears fill your eyes as you continue talking, turning to meet his sad face “But when you look at me you see past it, i can see that you do. You don’t take a step back when i come close to you, or just avoid me completely. But you hadn’t seen that yet, and I’m- I’m afraid that you don’t feel that way anymore.”

Dean listened to you, confused on why out of all things you thought this would push him away. “Sweetheart you’re still you. I’ve known who you were since you let me in enough to tell me. if I didn’t accept you I would’ve split after your dad payed us a visit but I didn’t. If you’re a monster that makes me a monster, and Sammy and Bobby and every other hunter we know. The way i see it you’ve got less bloodshed on your hands than i do alone. I love you sweetheart and ain’t nothin’ gonna change that. Ok?”

You nodded, teary eyed and dean pulled you in for a hug, kissing your forehead, you inhaled his scent deeply. Thankful that he actually accepted you as you are. “I’m glad you said that or else that would’ve made for an interesting conversation with my dad” you joked letting out a watery laugh.

Dean chuckled to himself “not sure much talking would’ve got done” he smiled. Your dad would’ve sent him to the deepest parts of the underworld imaginable but you kept that thought to yourself, happy to have still been in his arms.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @hpxmcusworld @fandom-princess-forevermore @flow33didontsmoke @sweetiecelin @theprettylittlebambi @multiversefanfics @l0v3cuts

[amberlynnmurdock]

Come Back Down

Pairing: Benjamin Poindexter x Reader

Summary: You always bring Dex back down when he feels like his world is spinning; tonight you show him a physical way he can find relief.

Genres: Angst, SMUT

WARNINGS: 18+ content, unprotected sex

Words: 3k exactly

“I’m having a bad night,” Dex says to you over the phone as he stands on the balcony of his apartment, leaning over the rail. It’s cold out, nearly forty degrees, and he was out here only in a teeshirt and sweatpants. The cold helped when his body became too hot with anxiety and spiraling thoughts. It tensed his muscles and helped cool him down physically, although mentally he wasn’t doing well still. It’s why he called you—you said he could when he needed to, and now was one of those times. “Do you—“

He pauses though. Blinks hard twice to steady the tremor in his voice. He didn’t have to be embarrassed to sound like this, but he was. As hard as it was all the time to pretend to be a tough FBI agent, the worst was feigning he was okay when he spoke to you. Dex takes a shaky deep breath. “Do you mind coming over?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. Gut-wrenching, heart-stomping silence. He holds his breath for as long as the silence lasts. God, he’s really done it this time—scared you off with his issues. He felt needy and like an unlucky penny tails up on the ground when he met you. It was only a matter of time until you also pushed him away, like everyone else had in his life. 

“I can come over,” you finally say, and he can hear it in your voice that he’s woken you up. You were probably deep in a peaceful sleep when he called you in his terrible state of mind. The worst part of the way you sounded was that he could hear the hint of hesitation in your voice—he didn’t want you to come over unless you wanted to. Not feel obliged, or pressured, but wanted to. Doubt fills his mind again, and Dex runs a hand over his face. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Dex says regretfully, even though deep in his heart he wants you here anyway. He’s afraid of where his mind might take him if he stays alone and you’re the only person who can bring him back down and quiet his mind. He had his therapy recordings, sure, but they were nothing compared to your presence. 

“I want to, Dex,” you said without hesitation this time. “I was just worried about the time of night and getting there alone.”

“I can meet you,” Dex says hopefully, convincingly. “I can come to your place and we can walk here together.”

“Or you can just stay here,” you offer him. “If you’re comfortable with that?”

Dex paused—this was the first time you’d ever invited him over. The hope he felt in his chest was almost insulting. 

“Yes,” Dex says. “I am.” 

“Are you sure?” You ask him. “You don’t mind?”

“How could I? I need you, __,” Dex replies, clutching his chest. “I need to talk.”

“Okay,” you tell him. “Come now, then. I’ll be waiting.”

Dex throws on his jacket, hat, and shoes and immediately begins walking down the few blocks it takes to get to your place.

The cold is bitter against his face as the wind blows in the opposite direction he walks. When he finally reaches your building, he presses your apartment number and waits in anticipation for the buzzer to go off. When it does, he immediately opens the door and walks to the elevator. 

You heard a faint knocking on your door as you sat in the corner of your couch, a cup of peach tea in your hands. Dex was here. You placed your tea on a coaster and walked over to your door. Before opening it, you looked through the peephole to make sure it was Dex (he often reminded you to do this) and it was. His face was hidden underneath his baseball cap, but when you opened the door, he immediately met your eyes. 

“Hi,” was all he said. You opened the door wider. 

“Hey,” you replied, motioning him to come in. When he did, he took off his hat and looked around your place. It was about the same size as his apartment except much more colorful. He didn’t spend too much time looking. You shut your door and locked it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You offered. 

“No,” Dex shook his head, “I’m okay. Listen, I’m sorry to call you this late.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you wave his apology off. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you called.” 

You walked over to him and brushed his dirty blonde hair to the side, fixing it from his hat. Dex fluttered his eyes closed when he felt your fingertips on him. He took a deep breath to refocus. You ran your fingers down the side of his face before stopping at his shoulder. 

“I was having a bad night,” Dex finally said, opening his eyes to meet yours. 

“Was?” You asked. 

Dex smiled a little and looked down at your carpet. He met your eyes again. “I feel better being here.”

“What was bothering you?”

Dex shook his head—what a complicated question. "The same stuff. Bad day at work. Makes me think of everything I’ve been through. I feel like I need this job more than it needs me, and that scares the hell out of me,” Dex confessed feeling his breathing getting faster. You moved your hand from his shoulder to over his heart.

“It’s okay,” you soothed. “We all have bad days at work.”

“Not like me,” Dex gently argued. “No one gets it like me.”

“So if I came to you about a bad day, would you tell me I have nothing to worry about, and I should forget it? Because I don’t have bad days like you?”

“Oh,” Dex shook his head. “I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then you should listen to what I’m saying. It’s normal to have some bad days, Dex. Just breathe. Reflect on why it was bad. And tomorrow, go in with your heart in the right place.”

Dex nods and swallows his response. “It’s just so easy for me to spiral like that.”

“I know,” you said softly, knowingly, feeling his heart begin to steady against your hand. “You’re here now. The day is over.”

Dex looks away from you again—your kind eyes could be so intimidating to him like he’s not sure how to reciprocate the feeling even though he wants to offer you the same. His eyes were always so full of worry. You never looked away from him. 

“Thank you,” Dex says, placing his hand over yours, and holding it on his chest. You could see the veins on his wrist travel to his knuckles. 

“What happened at work anyway?” You asked him.

“Just the job in general,” Dex shakes his head. “I do what I can and it’s not enough.”

You smile ironically, “a tale as old as time.”

“Yeah,” Dex laughs, despite himself. “I guess so. It can be stressful.”

“I bet it can be,” you agree. “You need to find ways to bring relief to your stress. How do you relax?”

Another complicated question for Dex to answer. He furrowed his brows. The only thing he can think of is listening to his therapy tapes. It never really relieved his stress—it only brought him back down to a level he could manage. He’s never completely been at peace, for as long as he can remember. 

There’s one thing that does bring him to that peace, and it’s standing right in front of him.

“I call you,” Dex answers. “I talk to you. You—“ he stammers, looking at his hand on top of yours, “your touch relaxes me. It brings me back down.”

You smile sadly, placing your other hand on his bicep. “Other than me.”

“Nothing then,” Dex instantly replies, like a statement of fact. “Nothing relieves my stress like you.” It was his turn to fix your hair now—he pushed a loose strand behind your ear and dragged his thumb over your cheekbone.

You reach up and wrap your hand around his wrist, holding him there. You turn into his palm and kiss his hand. Dex takes a shaky breath—you’ve never kissed him like that. You’ve never kissed him, period. He wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer to him so your chests are touching. It’s your turn to feel nervous—your romantic feelings for Dex are hard to hide now.

“Dex,” you say his name, resting your forehead on his chin.

“Do you want me to let go?”

“No,” you shake your head. You meet his dark hazel eyes and hold his intense gaze looking down at you. “I want to kiss you.”

Dex's mouth parts open as you stand on your tippy toes to meet his lips with yours. And when your lips finally meet, a gasp escapes you both. Dex devours the kiss, devours you, wholly. Your tongue dances against him. Dex hasn’t been this intimate with anyone, ever—in a long, long time. In the army, there were encounters in the past, but they were nothing more than something to keep him busy. Kissing you felt different—being this intimate with you felt different. You emitted something in him he didn’t think possible, something he can’t even admit to himself because he’s so afraid of losing it. And little did he know, you felt the exact way. 

“Dex,” you pull back out of breath, “is this okay—“

“Don’t stop,” he demands, and it’s the surest thing he’s said all day. “Don’t stop.”

You kiss him again, placing your hands on his neck and holding him still. Dex traces his fingers on the sides of your body, tracing your curves and feeling the softness of your pajamas. He’s hesitant to move his hands anywhere else, even though he so badly wants to. Restraint was something they taught him in FBI training. Restraint is what he’s practicing now. You feel his hesitation in his movements, and your heart melts at how sweet it is—but it’s not what you need right now. You move your hands over his and move them to your breasts. Dex is nearly shaking when he touches you through the thin fabric of your tank top. He feels your nipples in the palm of his hand and squeezes ever so gently. It’s the most delicate thing he’s ever held. You.

“Remember I asked you how you relieve your stress?” You pull back breathlessly. “This is one way.”

Dex laughs. “Show me more.”

Dex shrugs his jacket off as you drag him to your couch and sit him in the middle. Dex is breathing heavily again, but not out of anxiety or worry. Out of anticipation. Out of sheer thrill. His mouth is parted, and even in the darkness of your living room you know it’s the sexiest he’s ever looked. His hair is fluffed perfectly to the side and you take a look at him before you straddle yourself in his lap. You slide your tank top off of you and Dex looks at you in amazement. 

You tug at his shirt and he pulls it off over his shoulders. You look at his chiseled body for a moment and run your hands all over his torso, stopping when you reach his shoulders. You lean down to kiss him again. Dex crashes his lips on yours and brings you even closer. He has one hand on your right breast, while the other steadies you on the small of your back. You feel your wetness between your legs as you grind on Dex’s hard cock through his sweatpants. He places his hands on your waist and moves you back and forth against him, feeling his cock throb at the motion. Throbbing at how much he needs that sweet relief. 

He looks up at you. You could tell him to do anything and he’d have it done in a second. You both tug on each other’s pants, signaling for the other to take them off. Once fully unclothed, you find yourself back in Dex’s lap, sliding your pussy up and down the length of his cock. 

“How does this feel?” You whisper in his ear.

  “Good,” Dex says in a low voice. “Really good.”

“Good,” you affirm. “I like it too.”

You continue to move back and forth on his cock, sliding your wetness all over him. You watch him carefully, as his eyes become half closed as he watches you grind yourself on his cock. Mouth parted, a slight furrow in his brows. He’s mesmerized by your movements and the way you feel against him. He’s mesmerized by you and how easily your slick pussy moves against his cock. You place your hands on his face and motion for him to look at you. Dex runs his hand up the length of your torso and stops between your breasts, feeling how hard your heart is pounding against your chest. 

He shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Are you okay?” He can’t help but ask. 

“I’m nervous,” you tell him truthfully. 

“It’s me,” Dex comforts. You nod as his hand trails back down to your stomach, close to wear you need to be touched. Dex gently brushes his thumb over your clit before putting more pressure on your sensitive bud. He likes the way you look when he does. He likes the way you sound.

You move a bit to move his cock to your entrance, not before stroking him a few times. Dex takes a deep breath and rests his head on your couch as he lets you take over. You move the head of his cock to your slick pussy and slowly push yourself down on his size, biting your lip from the way his cock stretches you. You and Dex sigh at the same time as you fully sit your pussy on his cock. He looks up at you with intense eye contact, feeling safe with you taking control. You hold it back and watch as he clenches his jaw as you begin to move up and down on his cock. 

“How do you feel, Dex?” You ask breathlessly. 

“Good,” Dex whispers, chest heaving. “Good.”

“You feel so good,” you say barely above a whisper. You begin to ride his cock faster with each bounce, holding onto his shoulders to steady you. You felt his cock touch you all the way inside, the part of you that makes you moan naturally, the part of you you’ve been needing Dex to touch for so long. You love the way his cock stretches your tight pussy out—you love the look on his face as you continue to bounce on him. Your pleasure was pooling out of your pussy and getting his cock all wet. Only the sounds of both of your pants and your wetness coating his cock filled the silence between you. You kept your half-closed eyes on Dex; Dex hasn’t stopped looking at you since the moment you straddled him. 

“I needed this,” Dex says breathlessly, “Fuck—“ it’s hard for him to form coherent thoughts with you looking down at him sensually as you ride his cock. 

Growing tired, you lean your body against Dex and rest your head in the crook of his shoulder. Dex holds you tight against him as he thrusts his cock into your tight pussy, feeling you clench onto him with each thrust. Dex holds you as he continues thrusting inside you, but he needs to see you. He pulls you back and rests your forehead against his. You find it in yourself to bounce on his cock again. 

“Oh Dex,” you moan, feeling your pussy tighten around his cock as you feel your climax inching on. “Dex.”

“I know,” Dex pants, moving his hands to hold you by your waist. He begins to lift you up and down on his cock, lifting you up slowly to slam you back down all over his length. Feeling your pussy envelope his cock was a way to relieve stress he never thought of. He can’t focus on anything except you on top of him. Dex feels his release coming close, but he wants you to come first. 

“Mm, Dex,” your eyebrows furrow as you feel that aching feeling deep inside you intensify with each thrust of Dex’s cock. “Dex!” Soon enough, your shaking from your orgasm as you feel the tip of Dex’s cock touch that spot deep inside at the right angle, making you feel so full and complete. Dex isn’t far behind. Watching you come all over cock and listening to your breathy moans was all it took. 

“Fuck,” Dex whispers as he keeps you in place, cock deep inside your pussy, as he feels his cock release his come inside you. You feel the warmth of his seed completely fill you and the feeling alone is enough for you to orgasm again. Dex’s mouth is open as he pumps his come inside you, watching it leak back out all over his pelvis and your thighs. He holds you in place as your pussy squeezes every last drop of his seed and the only thing left filling the air are your breaths, slick skin and beating hearts.

You fall against his chest, burying your face in his neck, Dex’s cock still inside you. Suddenly it feels cold. You’re shivering, and Dex holds you tightly in his arms as he catches his breath—burying his face in your neck, too. Your chests are heaving against each other, letting the other come down from your highs. Dex closes his eyes tight and breathes in the smell of your shampoo, breathes in your skin, breathes in you. He feels completely at peace, holding you like this in his arms. You hold onto him just as tightly, making a promise inside you’ll never let him go. 

[mellowwillowy]

Every Wednesday at 10 AM sharp, a handsome old man visits you for his weekly book.

Content: Subtle yandere, eldritch horror bs

Despite his wrinkled features, he seems ethereally handsome. You know he is not one friendly man because you've seen his wrath at his family or pests firsthand, but he has never even once treated you as though in a rude manner.

This ritual went on until he decided to start a conversation with you one day.

"Isn't it boring to work as a librarian in this vast library alone?"

And Mother, did you know he has a very rich voice. You were always flustered whenever he spoke and he found it amusing.

"It can't be helped. If not me, then who will take this role?"

Instead of leaving with his book as usual, he decided to stay for a moment. His eyes studied each detail of your appearance meticulously. The two of you were wearing spectacles, except that his was a monocle.

The man only nodded in response and left your counter as usual.

-

Yoggy. A silly name for a man like him but he had grown too used to it to even fuss about it. Unlike you who were just a lesser being, a vessel to your Mother, he was a god with immense power. You'd always think of him as a scholar instead of a glob of featureless tentacles, opting to not scare yourself to meet his almost golden-like eyes.

Wednesday, 10 AM sharp, he waited patiently for you to hand him another book for him to peruse. This time it was a book from the 14th century.

He examined the leather cover and carved the title on it, hand feeling the texture of the old book.

"Have you perhaps ever read that, sir? Should I get another one?"

Yoggy stayed silent for a moment, skimming through the book before shutting it tight with one hand.

"I suppose reading this again wouldn't hurt."

You shivered at his voice. Had you been anyone but not the librarian from this Capital of Life (library), those words would have been delivered more as a warning, a threat, or maybe even the last words you'll be hearing.

As though he noticed your concern, he cleared his throat uncharacteristically.

"I mean that. Cease your worry, librarian."

Perhaps it was because he considered the time you two had cultivated this relationship? It had almost been centuries.

You looked up through the rim of your glasses and looked through his eyes. He really meant it.

Unlike that one time, you accidentally wandered into his territory and saw him shredding someone like a paper for displeasing him, he really had no intention of doing that to you.

Yoggy left with a click of his cane, leaving you all alone on your counter before you dropped to your knees, breathing out the breath you had been holding in. Suddenly, a familiar bright man surprised you as he leaned through the counter, "You thought you almost lost your life again, didn't you~?"

You threw a book lying on the floor at his face out of reflex. Fortunately, he had a quick reflex and caught it with his left hand.

"I think he fancies ya'" He returned the book for you and you accepted it graciously.

"I don't think you should speak of him like that..."

"Why? Because he might behead me for it?"

You nodded and he burst out laughing.

"No no, but I'm serious, dead serious. Don't you think he finally felt lonely again?"

"I'm pretty sure his sons sometimes visit him..."

The man you were speaking to was one of the few friendly gods, alas he was the most likable one due to his friendliness but you chose not to indulge in a friendship with him lest you fell into one of his trickeries.

Nyarla shook his head and waved his hand dramatically, "Oh non non non! Lonely does not only mean 'lonely', but it can also mean 'lonely'."

As though he could read through your puzzled face, he inched closer into your face, mouth close to your ear, and whispered, "I bet he's horny right n-"

Suddenly Nyarla's head was hit by a cane you were familiar with. He immediately regained his composure, jumped into the counter, and hid behind you.

Yoggy came back with a book he didn't lend and a cane pointed toward Nyarla's forehead. His gazes weren't necessarily deadly but still threatening to Nyarla. You stood in front of Nyarla, shielding him from Yoggy's wrath before he got wrung like a dirty dishcloth again.

"Anything I can help you with, sir?" You looked at his face and then at the teal-colored book.

Yoggy glared at Nyarla who was hiding behind you before giving up the idea of wringing him. He handed you the book and you examined it. The leather-covered book had no title carved on it and it was notably old parchment papers. There was not a single content in the book as you skimmed through the pages. You looked at him questioningly.

"I figured I wanted to try something new this time. Librarian, do you know how to write?"

He wanted you to write him a story. Was it some sort of penalty for handing him a book he had once read?

"It's no punishment. I just wish to read a story from the librarian I frequent."

Nyarla whistled and suddenly groaned in pain. You immediately looked behind you and saw him folded in double, clutching his stomach.

"D-do I need to call the nurse, Nyarla?" You placed the book onto the counter first before tending him, trying to pry his hands off his stomach, and saw a black glob of eyes, presumably, Yoggy's doing.

"Nah, just gonna... yank this off." Nyarla pulled the glob from his abdomen, you noticed his organs splattered on the floor before dissipating into nothing. The bloody, open wound that was originally there also healed almost instantly. You shivered from the memory of Yoggy shredding that poor soul again.

Yoggy cleared his throat and your attention returned to him.

"Can you do it?"

Unwilling to be the next subject of his wrath, you nodded frantically and pushed Nyarla's early remark far behind your head. A coward as usual.

-

For the next whole week, Nyarla frequented your counter when he had the time, watching you writing and throwing countless drafts, your counter filled with crumpled paper. Your hands were dirtied by ink and your eye bags showed your lack of sleep.

Nyarla didn't stop teasing you, often reminding you about how 'lonely' Yoggy was and how he was just trying to woo you with this nonsense. You remained diligent with your work to provide Yoggy entertainment lest you became a gruesome lump of meat to sate his boredom.

Today too, Nyarla sat in front of your counter, pouting at the lack of attention you gave him while mindlessly playing with your hair. It was Wednesday at 9 AM, an hour away before Yoggy would visit you for his weekly read and perhaps your story.

Nyarla's golden eyes never left you and you could feel it bore into your pores uncomfortably.

But you paid no mind to it and tried to finish the book, rushing to meet your deadline.

You couldn't hear Yoggy's footsteps mainly because he wasn't walking but Nyarla could sense his presence.

Nyarla inched closer to you, his eyes mesmerized by your eye bags. His lip twitched into a playful grin before he playfully whispered into your ear, "I think I like it more when you are tired."

You didn't understand what he was trying to say. Did he mean he likes you more when you are stressed? If so, you weren't surprised until he nibbled on your ear playfully.

For the first time after centuries, an uncharacteristically high-pitched distress noise slipped out of your mouth. A thud was heard and it was Yoggy's cane falling. Nyarla didn't have to look back to know what it was and opted to clasp his hands onto your face, peppering your face in feather smooches until he was yanked away by angered Yoggy.

Like a mother cat picking its kitten with its mouth except that Nyarla's neck was strangled by his bare hand.

You saw a glimpse of his limbs, limbs filled with eyes staring into the distant and Nyarla, curling around his arms and legs, pulling him even further from you before slamming it into the bookshelves behind him.

If you could scream, you would have screamed but you decided to not bring any attention to yourself. You really didn't want to anger the god further. Nyarla could survive by installing his limbs back like an android but you couldn't. You decided to put all the pity on you and not Nyarla, opting to finish your proofreading ASAP while Yoggy swung Nyarla around like he was a cowboy.

This went on until it was 10 AM and Yoggy lined in front of your counter, his presence demanding another book as usual. You could tell how pale your face was without even having to look into his monocle's reflection.

"Have you finished writing your tale?"

"Y-yes." You mentally scolded yourself for the croaked voice. "Yes, I have sir."

You handed him the teal-covered book and just before you could leave to bring him his weekly read, he held you still by your hand, awfully gentle with how he tried not to scare you after the bloody display he had to show you.

"I will only be reading your writing for this week... so there's no need for another book."

Instead of comforting you, it only dreaded you further. And he could tell by how your pupils were shaking.

Nyarla who had just finally finished putting his limbs back together slinked his arm around his nephew while grinning at you, "Yoggy wants to enjoy your writing to the fullest. Even if it's crap, I'm sure he'll still enjoy it."

"I will, (Name)."

His hand went to reach your ear Nyarla nibbled on earlier and wiped it clean for you before he wiped it on Nyarla's face forcefully again. Just as Yoggy was about to leave, he made sure to drag Nyarla out from the capital.

You could hear Nyarla playfully tease him until they were finally out of earshot. You dropped to your knees and let out the breath you'd been holding on after Yoggy touched your ear, his face dangerously close to you.

You were used to Nyarla's stunt but never Yoggy's. You could feel his breath fanning against your skin and how his eyes looked almost like the golden sun. Your heart drummed against your ribcage, screaming to be ripped out.

Oh never mind, you've never had any heart to begin with and it was just the illusion of your heartbeat spiking up. It reminded you of the time when high schoolers would feel when they were near their crush.

Crush. Feelings? Do you perhaps feel that way for Yoggy or was it just unfamiliarity to his sudden action?

--

"Stop getting under my skin." Yoggy spat through gritted teeth.

"Why? Don't tell me you really fancy that librarian? Oooo, tough time for--"

Just before Nyarla could finish his line, Yoggy swung his cane and Nyarla managed to dodge it this time.

"If you won't quit it, your devotees will be shredded into my devotees' dinner."

A threat. And perhaps a warning. As much as Nyarla liked to push his buttons, he'd rather not risk weakening himself for something silly like this. Nyarla dissipated into nothing and left Yoggy alone with the teal-covered book.

He felt the carved title with his thumb and bit back a smile.

He wasn't sure how he thought of you but he wouldn't deny how pleasant your company was to him. He didn't have to specify what it was yet but he'd like to know what it was soon. For now, he was pleased to be able to see you once a week and perhaps twice a week soon.

He wished you'd require his assistance one day. To have you indebted to him would make it easier for him to grow more inside your mind. He'd rather not use deceit on you. You were a pleasant thing, not a pest or a sacrificial lamb.

Yoggy didn't realize he was walking into someone else until he heard a groan, too immersed in his imaginative world.

Yoggy didn't realize he was smiling until his son pointed it out.

And he refused to realize that he had slaughtered the few people who tried to court you.

... he'd like to understand what he was feeling as soon as possible.

[seraphicloves]

𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅?

⊱✿⊰ summary: the overblot aftermath except yuu has my personality lmao

⊱✿⊰ warnings: book 2 spoilers, lowkey bullying leona (but nice), yuu is reader, fully self indulgent, fluffy tho, like a few refs to reader being small cuz im smaller than even ruggie so yeah. Thats like the only physical depictor i think

⊱✿⊰ notes: i had this dream last night and boom bam i made this. I think its preppy and also its lit ny personality and also leona is like 😍

your eyes slowly fluttered open, the bright fluorescents adding to the dull ache in your head. as your vision adjusted you realized you had quite a few people surrounding you. ace and deuce and jack and grim? what happened...?

"what happened?" you muttered out, sitting up in the...cot? you were in the infirmary but why? the last thing you could remember was playing the special round of spelldrive and grim mentioned something about a special move.

"at the beginning of the second half grim threw the disc at your noggin and knocked you out." ace answered barely concealing his snort, "don't you remember?"

"no i don't remember." you grumbled, narrowing your eyes in a glare. ace gave you an apologetic smile that you weren't sure held any real sorry in it.

"i was trying to aim for victory!" grim exclaimed, pumping his fist up. he smiled widely at you and plopped into your lap. despite your annoyance you curled your arms around him, letting him snuggle into your chest.

"you amateurs need to work on your throwing skill." jack replied with an eyeroll.

deuce quickly interjected with a gentle smile, hoping to ease any tensions that might appear. "i for one am glad you're awake! i was scared the hit did some real damage."

"true, you were asleep so long you even missed the closing ceremonies. they're taking everything down now." ace said, still trying not to laugh. evem through your annoyance you couldn't really blame him. it did sound kind of funny that you got hit by a disc because of grim's terrible throw.

"which dorm won?" you asked suddenly, words falling from your lips hurriedly, "how did savanaclaw do?"

even with leona being so underhanded you still wanted him to get what he wanted. he just wanted to feel like he was good enough, something you could relate to heavily. you hoped none of them could tell the way your face warmed with your rambles. maybe you could blame it on pain meds..if this place even had them.

suddenly that growly rumble of a voice filled your ears, leona saying, "diasomia won, unsurprisingly."

your eyes jumped to where leona was, him and ruggie in cots side by side. leona looked goregous, with his long hair still braided and a few bandages scattered across his dark tanned skin. you really ought to focus instead of fangirling over his looks like a silly school girl.

"there was nothing we could do to stop it." ruggie added with a sigh, looking slightly more healed now, "it didn't help that we took a beating from every other dorm before we got to them."

you winced sympathetically, unsurprised the other dorms had gotten their revenge out during the game. even still you felt bad, but perhaps that was your annoyingly empathetic heart talking.

"housewarden! ruggie!" jack exclaimed, turning his body around to see the others in their cots. you slowly sat up, ignoring your dizziness in favor of getting the chance of getting closer to leona. you are surely going insane, why were you wanting to comfort leona after everything he did? why were you wishing to kiss his hurt away in front of your friends no less.

leona tsked, his arms crossed over his hardened chest as he said, "being stuck in the infirmary for anything other than a mid-day nap is about as lame as it gets."

his eyes wandered over to you and you felt your body warm, self conscious about the way you look. you could feel that your hair was a bit tangled and your clothes were slightly frumpled, making you wish leona would suddenly forget you existed. did he think you look bad? you looked at your hands, trying to cease your racing heart.

"and what's worse? none of the diasomia kids ended up here." ruggie pouted, his ears flattening aganist the top of his head. you felt your lips quirk in amusement, finding the small boy's annoyance kinda cute. he reminded you of your friends from your world (though that thought suddenly made your heart feel heavy.)

ace nodded and started talking about the head of the diasomia dorm, apparently being a major powerhouse. you didn't doubt it, seeing as half the guys at this school were insanely large or annoyingly good at magic. they still scared you, seeing as you were neither of those things.

"with that attitude you're never going to beat them." jack said with his fist clenched, all good old determination, "i didn't beat them but i will next year! i'll do anything it takes."

"does 'anything' include your capacity for evil?" leona asked with a slightly malicious grin. you felt mildly deranged for wanting to kiss it off of his face.

"have you learned nothing?" you asked, fighting the urge to get closer. once his grin widened, deliciously evil glint in those pretty brown eyes you felt your resolve wavering.

so you did get a bit closer, sitting on the chair beside his cot. he didn't seem displeased with your proximity as he said, "i didn't realize this was an after school special."

you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past your lips, eyes lighting up with amusement. he was insufferably wonderful. "i didn't realize you knew so much about those after-school specials."

ruggie interrupted with his infamous laugh, making you feel suddenly aware of the way you were sort of flirting with leona. you backed up and looked shyly away, grateful your friends didn't seem to notice the way you had been half tempted to settle your and leona's debate with kisses.

"there's the leona i know!" ruggie said, making jack roll his eyes. jack reminded you of captain america if he was part of the omegaverse, but the boy's brain might explode if you tried explaining that to him..

"i can already tell this won't end well." jack muttered with a slight shake of his head. you felt your lips curve into a grin at the same time as leona. even though you most definitely didn't want leona try to cheat his way to the top you also liked his...ambition. you were far gone.

deuce, ace, and grim chimed in talking about how they wanted to play in the tournament for real next year. a small part of yourself wondered if you'd still be around by next year or if crowley would have found a way home for you by then. then you quietly wondered whether you would return to your old life or stay in your new one.

suddenly a little boy with red hair bounced into the room, jumping onto leona without a care in the world. your eyes widened, surprised by the freaking kindergartener entering the infirmary. he was adorable and sort of reminded you of your younger cousins, who were all around his age.

"unca! there you are! i finally found you!" the child giggled, hugging up close to leona. leona looked shocked for a moment before his face relaxed to his usual pissed off look and he hugged the kid back.

"unca leona...?" jack mumbled, matching your confusion. all the boys seemed equally confused that this tiny person was calling leona uncle and cuddling up to him without getting beat into a pulp.

"this is cheka, my brother's son...my nephew." leona explained boredly, ruffing the boy's hair. your eyes widened, reeling at the sudden revelation.

"so this is the next in line for the throne." ruggie said in a low tone, amusement filling his expression. you were still shocked this adorable little baby was leona's nephew.

"unca! i saw you play, you were sooo cool!" cheka giggled, his hands tapping against leona's shoulder in a badly attempt at rhythm, "teach me how to play pleaseeeeee!"

"fine, fine just stop screaming in my ear." leona grumbled, plucking cheka off his body and putting him down. which made cheka notice everybody around, particularly you.

the tiny redhead ran to you, jumping onto your lap. he was very similar to your cuddly baby brother so it was easy to just wrap your arms around cheka and let him hug you. you giggled, amused by leona's nephew.

leona was about to protest, and you could have sworn you saw a light dusting of pink across his cheeks. it gave you the smallest glimmer of pride, close enough to the third year that you saw the tiniest details.

"so the source of all leona's anguish is..." jack began, struggling to understand what was happening. everybody was to be quite frank.

"this innocent angel." you finished for him, ruffling cheka's hair. cheka giggled and squirmed in your arms, eyes wide and happy as he looked at you.

"shuddap, all of you." leona grumbled, "stop gawking."

you grinned and couldn't help the way you decided to sit on his cot beside him. you were small enough that you could fit on the bed at his side. cheka seemed happy by this decision because he could now crawl freely between you both.

despite leona's annoyance, he wrapped his arms around your waist to prevent you from falling off the cot. ruggie raised his eyebrows in silent shock, probably surprised to see his big scary upperclassmen cuddle with the random girl who just appeared at the school.

cheka rambled incessantly, asking questions and talking to leona. cheka seemed to idolize leona, making you wonder if he realized that. does leona know how much cheka loves him?

ruggie was laughing like a maniac at the new side of leona they had all discovered, probably wanting to use this as blackmail. you did think it was funny, but it was also freaking adorable seeing leona so soft. leona nuzzled his face into your shoulder, glaring at the first and second years all laughing their heads off.

"are these your friends?" cheka asked, turning around to look at them all. then he looked back at you, "is she your girlfriend?"

"oh for sure. we're besties with leona." ace grinned, even happier when cheka asked about your relationship with leona. you felt your cheeks warm, lips opening to deny the assumption.

but leona didn't give you a chance as he grumbled, "i won't forget about this."

though the boys were still amused they decided to leave, laughing and talking about "unca leona". the older boy glowered, tightening his hold on your body. hell even ruggie left, feelinf well enough to leave the infirmary for a moment.

"you gonna marry her?" cheka asked, bouncing on leona's stomach. leona groaned and pulled the kid off of him, so he wasn't treating the third year like a jungle gym. cheka glanced at you and added, "what's your name?"

"my name is [name] but everybody calls me yuu." you said, ignoring his first question and especially ignoring the way your heart throb at the idea. it was silly, you were a teen and thinking about marrying leona.

leona also ignored the first question just mumbling out a quiet, "furball always trying to start stuff..."

suddenly cheka jumped up, hearing the voices of his attendants. the little redhead ran away as quickly as he came, probably going to cause more chaos. he really was lucky he was so adorable...and the fact he was a prince.

being alone with leona made you acutely aware of the way he was cuddling you. his arms wrapped around your waist and his tail curling around your shin. he was warm, his firm body pressed aganist your back in such a comforting way.

"i didn't say this earlier," he began, his low timbre full of the beginnings of sleepiness, "but im sorry for hurting you when i overblotted. i didn't mean for you to get involved."

you blinked with surprise, your heart stalling as a lump in your throat. maybe he really did feel remorse for what he did, the thought sending a flutter of excitement through your tummy.

slowly you turned so your front was against his, faces inches away. you were both laying down on the small cot, his strong arms keeping you steady and grounded.

with that delightful dizziness in your head, you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. he froze, soft gasp of surprise falling from him. his arms tightened around you, squeezing the skin on your waist.

"its okay, leona. i'm not mad." you replied softly, gifting him your forgiveness like you were sent straight from god. not that you knew if he even had a god in his world. perhaps even without a god, you wondered if he knew how to worship one. if he might worship you like you were one.

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

[tan1shere]

Scare You

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: not much to say except enjoy ! I hope this is good :) (it's kinda bad I'm sorry ☹) @omwtfybbbbb

Warnings: none really ! She comforts you

Masterlist

You didn't want to be here. But yet you were forced by your friends. Claiming, "You never got out of your house." - "You're a scardy cat Y/n." - "Loosen up, Y/n." So ofcourse you wanted to prove that wrong. But you were failing. Terribly. So terribly whenever a scare actor would come anywhere near you, you'd hang onto your friends arm for dear life. Was it stupid? Maybe, but you couldn't help the fact you got scared easily. Maybe it was down to childhood trauma so when stuff like this happens it triggers you. It couldn't get worse, surely.

Yup. It does.

You were walking around and for a good amount of time, you thought you were alright. No one had come up to you. Which is why this hurt really bad. One of them, a girl. Comes up behind you grabbing your shoulders briefly and making a loud growl. Your body sinks to the floor curling up into itself as you scream. Billie had faced many people with bad reactions. But not this bad. Not one she'd truly feel sorry for. Your friends tug you up. "Come on, it's fine." But it truly wasn't, you look back at the actor. Tears brimming your eyes slightly.

Her mood changes and her heart aches. She loved her job but not at that price. Sure she loved scaring people but not to the point of tears. This hurt her deeply, and all she wanted was to comfort you. But you were sadly out of sight.

Your friends continue to drag you along until one of them realizes your tears. "Ok, guys maybe we should call it quits for tonight." One of them furrows her brows. "Oh come on, Y/n needs to toughen up a bit." Their voices become distant as they argue. You couldn't take it, standing up and walking off. "Some friends." You mutter, walking along when all of a sudden you feel a hand on your shoulder again. You screech but they shh you calmingly. You turn to face them warily. "Hey its ok. It's just me from earlier." The woman says, taking off her mask. She was gorgeous.

"Oh.." you shy away. "I was going to say it wasn't my intention to scare you but- that's literally my job. I mean-" She sighs. "I just didn't mean to scare you to the point of literal tears." You blink at her. "Are you ok?" Your shoulders just shrug. "I'm so incredibly sorry-" But your tears come again. "I- I didn't even want to come here but my so called friends made me, making me feel like I was pathetic and I just wanted to prove them wrong but I didn't because I truly am pathetic, getting scared over people pretending all because of what happened when i was younger." You sob.

All the sentences were shakily said. She softens her look, going to carefully bring you into a hug. You tightly wrap your arms around her, needing that comfort right now. "They are certainly not friends. Nowhere near that title." Her hands smooth out your hair softly. Your breathing coming back to normal. "Shhh." She gently says. Your eyes close. "You're not pathetic, I promise you angel. I'm scared of alot of things too." You pull away to look at her. "Really? But it can't be anything like this? And I doubt it's silly like mine." "Water."

You stare at her for a second. "Water?" She nods. It honestly made you feel better. "Not so silly now huh?" You give her a faint smile. "You have a beautiful smile, keep it on more." Your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Thank you for coming back to see me." She smiles, nodding. "It hurt when I saw you were crying I had to make sure you were ok." It was sweet to you. The reassuring nature of this girl was a huge comfort.

"Hey, what do you say we give those 'friends' a run for their money. Literally." She says.

"Great idea."

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi! I'm a huge fan of your writing(you're low-key why I downloaded Tumblr so I could read more)! If you were up for it I'd love to read more from your to be or knot to be universe, or literally any of your freak4freak stuff! Thank you so much for writing, and I hope you're having a good day<3

hi! that is very sweet and i hope you're enjoying it! and i'm still just very happy and a little surprised how much people enjoy my malec verses (it's not a self-confidence problem i promise! i'm just still surprised ppl like the same stuff as me)!

i also hope you are having a good day too!!

here is some more of to be or knot to be last part here'

i hope you enjoy it and i am having a delightful time because i have a puppy who keeps pretending to get scared by something out the window so he has a reason to come climb in my lap (he doesn't need a reason? but like he's very particular about how things are done and he especially likes it when i comfort him if i think he's been scared?) but it did take me about 6 different instances to realize he was laying down sleeping, would wake up and feel lonely, boof at nothing and then look to see if i was watching him and then run to me 'so terrified!'

now that he's laying next to me, i'll sometimes kind of watch him and he'll wake up, look to see if i'm paying attention and most of the time he can't tell i can see him? so then he'll boof first and then jump up like he had a nightmare.

it's really ridiculous. i love nightshade so much tho

<3 lumine

Magnus pulls Alexander to him, enjoying the hitched groan as metal tightens and Alexander’s forced to come closer. Nephilim blood is a potent ingredient and yet instead of collecting it for use, Magnus licks it away.

Alexander’s fingers are covered in blood and under that are small, tiny little cuts. Magnus sucks each digit into his mouth to carefully clean away the blood and viscera, letting magic heal the wounds.

“You took too long.”

Alexander’s laugh at his reprimand is breathless, the look in his eyes wild and his boy swallows heavily against the martingale chain. The hunger in Alexander’s eyes only grows as the metal around his neck bites further into his skin and Magnus is tempted, so very tempted.

Yet warlocks have certain traditions that Magnus wants to follow.  Not only to give Alexander every legitimacy and protection as his mate, but also to ensure the Clave has as little authority or ways to meddle as possible.

Magnus has no interest in shadowhunter politics, except in the ways it will help his own people.  The kind of influence and access to information he’ll have thanks to a shadowhunter mate isn’t something to be taken lightly.  Alexander is a threat for the Clave and they’ll know it immediately.  Even if Alexander never expressly commits treason, just going against them as publicly as he’s doing makes Alexander dangerous.

If his mate gets to keep the Institute, then Magnus will do everything in his power to support his boy. Including join Alexander not perhaps in an official position, but even just as his mate,  supporting him and being seen around the Institute.

Alexander has certain privileges as a shadowhunter Commander that won’t disappear simply because the Clave hates his mate. Magnus has seen some of the papers and strategies that Alexander has gone over and they’re good.

Good enough that Magnus can boldly state that it’s better not to have his mate for an enemy, simply by the measure of Alexander’s own merits. The Clave probably know that, which is yet another reason they’ll be both  furious on wary.

“How long is your leave?” Magnus asks and his voice is hoarse with want but he holds himself back, managing not to twist the loop of Alexander’s collar and instead just leaning forward.

Alexander meets him, their foreheads pressing together as they both sigh in the relief of being close enough to share breath again.

“A minimum of three weeks. I wasn’t sure how long warlock mating instincts require so I set the maximum at five.  If you need longer then I’ll take sick leave or resign if they refuse.”

The steadfast way Alexander makes it clear that Magnus is his priority has Magnus sighing with delight and nuzzling Alexander as he pulls him closer.  The blood grows tacky between them and the thrill of Alexander being covered in it turns into disgust that his boy is still covered in such unworthy filth.

A snap of his fingers and Magnus cleans and strips them both, it probably isn’t needed and he could have simply cleaned their clothing — as evidenced by the fact that Alexander’s collar remains and is now pristine — however he wants to.

Alexander grins, something delighted and awed in his expression as he brings one of Magnus’ hand up to nuzzle and then kiss his palm.

“There are a few rituals we need to do, before we share a rut.” Magnus rubs his other hand down the curve of Alexander’s arm and then tangles their fingers together. “So while I will share a bath with you, I’m afraid as tempting as you are, I cannot fuck you just yet.”  Magnus can’t help the chuckle he lets out at Alexander’s bewildered and crestfallen expression.

“Don’t worry kitten, we can start the rituals tomorrow. It won’t be long Alexander, I promise.”

AN:

alec: ... i should have left the institute even quicker. this is terrible. my self-control is going to be both better and worse being around magnus

magnus: oh he's so cute when he's flustered. this is going to be delightful.

magnus is 100% treating this like foreplay and alec is too caught up in the shock/whiplash to realize he's getting played (in a good way and magnus isn't lying about the rituals he's just also enjoying himself) and alec's still getting used to Magnus and Magnus' scent and him and his magic and he's catching up but it'll take him a little bit. like he'll definitely figure out how to tease magnus but he's still learning how to breathe around magnus atm so... he needs a bit.

alec is going to be suffering... but like, not in a bad way

alec wants magnus there, as his mate, as his alpha, respected and capable of ordering (and being obeyed) by alec's institute because it's another way for alec to show that he belongs to magnus. so completely that what is his to rule also belongs to magnus to a certain degree. like obviously magnus can't tell them orders contradictory to the claves or alec's, but yeah. alec basically has a set of standards and if clave cant meet them, he wont stay. magnus is more important to him than that. and so are his own persona priorities and instincts

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 9)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist. but, some wounds don't heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: and... here i here i am! (a month later) hope you are all still with me, lol. enjoy :) 🤍

word count: 7.8k

warnings: fluff and butterflies in the stomach!!!

next: chapter 10

tag list: @avalentina @a1leexxa

The apartment was quiet, the kind of silence that settles in long after the world outside has gone to sleep. Adeline sat curled up on the edge of the couch, her damp hair twisted into a bun and her phone resting untouched beside her. Stella had gone to bed an hour ago and Lily was fast asleep in the guest room, her tiny body tucked beneath a yellow blanket and her favorite stuffed bunny.

Adeline stared at the blank TV screen, her mind anything... but still.

She could still feel the water clinging to her skin, the way Mason’s hand had brushed her waist — that maddeningly soft touch that hadn’t felt accidental at all. And his voice, low and teasing.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might think you actually like me.”

She brought her knees up to her chest, burying her face for a moment in her arms. God, why did her heart skip when she remembered the way he’d looked at her?

Like he saw right through her carefully constructed walls — and wasn’t scared of what he found there.

And then, of course, his friends had shown up. Perfect timing, really.

Just when her pulse had started to race for all the wrong reasons.

Just when her body had leaned forward, ever so slightly, as if it belonged there — right there — in that charged space between them.

Adeline sighed, dragging a hand down her face.

Get a grip. It was nothing.

Except... It didn’t feel like nothing.

Worse still, it wasn’t the first time lately that Mason had managed to catch her off guard. That storm… the way he’d held her without asking, without pushing. The way he’d offered her quiet comfort instead of empty words.

And now, this.

Her eyes drifted to her phone again. A message from him, still unread, glowed on the screen.

Mason: The offer still stands. My old flat’s free. It’s closer to the hospital and big enough for both you and Lily. No pressure. Just… think about it.

She had. Too much, in fact. It was tempting. More than tempting.

It was practical, smart even. And yet, the thought of being in his space again — alone — sent a flicker of nervous heat through her chest.

Adeline let out a slow breath, tilting her head back against the cushions.

A soft yawn from the hallway made her glance up just as Stella padded barefoot into the room, rubbing her eyes and heading toward the kitchen. She stopped mid-step when she spotted Adeline on the couch.

“You’re up?” Stella’s voice was rough with sleep, her messy ponytail swaying as she tilted her head. “Did Lily wake up?”

Adeline shook her head. “No, she’s out cold.”

“Then what’s your excuse?” Stella flicked on the soft kitchen light, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. “You were already half-dead when you got home.”

“Just couldn’t sleep.” Adeline offered a tired smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hm.” Stella filled the glass at the sink, then leaned against the counter, eyeing her over the rim. “You always get this look when you’re thinking too much.”

“Do I?” Adeline raised an eyebrow.

“Yep. It’s your ‘I’m spiraling internally but pretending to be fine’ face.” She sipped her water, then walked over, plopping down beside her. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Adeline groaned, flopping her head back against the couch. “I’m not spiraling.”

“Sure. You just happen to be sitting in the dark, staring at your phone like it personally betrayed you.” Stella nudged her with her elbow. “What’s going on, Ady?”

There was a long pause.

Adeline stared at the ceiling, biting the inside of her cheek. She didn’t know how to explain it. Or maybe she did — and just didn’t want to say the words out loud. Saying it would make it real.

She felt Stella watching her, patient and quiet in that way she always was when she knew Adeline needed to be nudged without being pushed.

“I went to Mason’s today.” she finally said.

“I figured.” Stella’s tone was casual. “Another session?”

Adeline nodded. “Yes. His progress is good. He’s getting stronger.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment before Stella spoke again, voice soft.

“But, that’s not what’s keeping you up, is it?”

Adeline hesitated. Then: “We ended up in the pool.”

Stella’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Ok?”

“Not like that!” Adeline rushed to say, cheeks already heating. “He— he picked me up and threw me in. As a joke. It was stupid.”

“Sounds like flirting.” Stella grinned.

“It was… playful.”

“Flirting.”

“You’re impossible.” Adeline covered her face with her hands, muffling her groan.

“I’m not the one tossing people into pools like it’s a rom-com, Ady.” Stella teased, nudging her again. “Come on, babes. Spill it.”

“Nothing happened.” She peeked at her friend from between her fingers.

“But something almost did, didn’t it?”

That silenced her.

Stella’s voice softened even more. “You’ve got that look. The one you had when you first told me about Lily’s dad. Back when you didn’t want to admit he meant something to you.”

“This is different.” Adeline lowered her hands slowly.

“Yes.” Stella said. “Because this time, I think he actually sees you.”

The words landed harder than Adeline expected. Her throat tightened.

“I don’t know what this is, Stells.” she said, barely above a whisper. “He’s my patient. And I— I can’t afford to get caught up in something that’s going to complicate everything.”

“You’ve been through hell, Addy. I get it. But just because things have been hard doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to want something good again.”

Adeline looked down at her phone. The message from Mason still glowed softly.

“And... He offered me a place to stay.” she said after a moment. “His old apartment. Just until I can figure things out.”

Stella’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s actually… really thoughtful of him.”

“Yeah. Too thoughtful. Who does that?” Adeline shook her head. “He barely knows me. I mean, not really.”

“Maybe he wants to.” Stella just looked at her.

Adeline’s chest tightened. There it was again — that terrifying flicker of possibility. She hated how much it tempted her. How easily the idea slipped into her head and made itself comfortable.

“He makes me nervous.” she admitted quietly.

“Good nervous?” Stella asked.

Adeline paused. Then nodded.

Stella smiled gently. “Then maybe… don’t run from it just because it’s unfamiliar.”

Adeline leaned her head on her friend’s shoulder, and Stella rested hers against Adeline’s in return.

“I’m not saying move in and marry the guy.” she said lightly. “But maybe give him a chance to show you he’s not going to disappear the moment things get real.”

Adeline closed her eyes.

She wasn’t ready. But maybe… she didn’t need to be. Not all at once.

(...)

Adeline's shoes squeaked faintly against the polished floor as she moved through the corridor, clipboard tucked under one arm, a half-drunk bottle of water in the other. The night shift had been unusually slow — a few consultations, a patient with a fractured wrist from a night out gone wrong, and a brief handover with A&E. She was exhausted, of course, but it was that quiet kind of tired that gave her a moment to breathe. A moment to think.

Unfortunately.

As she pushed open the break room door, her phone buzzed in the pocket of her scrub top. She slipped it out, thumb tapping the screen, it was a text from Lily's sent from Stella's phone.

Lily: Mum I had a dream about dinosaurs and they were on a bus and the bus was flying.

Adeline smiled, biting her bottom lip.

Adeline: That’s mad, bug. I hope they dropped you off at school and didn’t eat your lunch. I’ll call you when I finish, okay?

She tucked the phone away again and stretched her arms above her head. One more round on the floor and she’d be done. Thank God.

She was halfway down the corridor when she turned a corner and nearly collided with someone.

"Whoa—sorry!" she said instinctively, stepping back.

"Alright, easy there." came the familiar voice, warm and distinctly amused.

Her eyes flicked up. Mason.

He stood there in joggers, trainers, and a slightly oversized hoodie, hood down, hair still slightly damp like he’d had a rushed shower before heading out. He was holding a takeaway coffee cup that read ‘Jo & Bean – Coffee for the Sleep-Deprived’.

Adeline blinked. “What on earth are you doing here at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same, Ady.” he replied, smiling. “You lot never sleep?”

“Some of us don’t have the luxury, Mase.” she said, playfully.

He lifted the cup. “I thought I’d pop in before my appointment. Early bird and all that.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Wait—you’ve got a check-up?”

“Bit of a progress review and chat about easing into pitch work again. Nothing serious, though.”

“Back on the grass, then?” She gave him a slow nod.

“Sort of. Light training, no contact. Not allowed to go full tilt. My physiotherapist says I’m coming along.”

She smirked. “Wonder who’s been working on that knee...”

“She’s alright. Bossy.” he said, leaning slightly closer.

“Sounds dreadful.”

They stood there for a second, quiet except for the faint buzz of overhead lights and someone wheeling a trolley down the far end of the hall.

“Fancy a quick break?” Mason asked suddenly. “I’ve got enough caffeine for two.”

She hesitated, then glanced at the clock. Still time before her shift ended. “You’re lucky I like coffee, Mount.”

“I had a feeling.” He grinned.

They sat side by side in the small waiting room near the atrium, just by the window where the sun was beginning to bleed in through the glass. The vending machines hummed quietly behind them.

Adeline took a sip of the coffee — slightly bitter, not her usual, but warm enough to count. “So… how’re you feeling about going back?”

Mason leaned back, gaze flicking out to the car park below. “Buzzing, honestly. But a bit nervous too.”

“Nervous? You?” She glanced sideways.

He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, well. Bit mad, isn’t it? You spend your whole life doing something and then an injury takes it all away for a bit. You start wondering what it’s gonna feel like when you’re finally back.”

“But you’ve done the work. You’re not rushing it.” Adeline nodded.

“I know. Still—" He paused, tapping the side of the cup. “There’s always that voice in the back of your head.”

“You’ll be fine, Mase. Better than fine.” She looked at him quietly, the sharp edge of vulnerability in his words not lost on her.

He turned his head to meet her eyes, and for a brief moment, neither of them spoke.

Then a voice cut through the quiet.

“Adeline?”

She turned, startled.

Elliot.

He stood near the corner, dressed in his usual soft tones — a light jacket, navy jumper beneath it, messenger bag across his chest. He looked surprised to see her, and even more surprised when he clocked Mason sitting beside her.

“Hey, Elliot.” she said, standing. "How's everything?"

“I was just… dropping off a few forms for the council thing.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking awkwardly to Mason. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh—this is Mason. Mason, this is Elliot. My neighbour. He’s been helping out since the flood at my place.”

“Nice to meet you, mate.” Mason stood, polite but reserved.

Elliot extended a hand, clearly trying to process the face in front of him. “Wait, are you—? You play for—”

“Something like that.” Mason gave a small nod.

“Oh, wow. That’s… brilliant.” Elliot laughed, slightly too loudly. “Didn’t expect a footballer in the hospital corridors.”

“Not usually where we train, no.”

Adeline fought the urge to laugh at the slight tension. Mason wasn’t exactly glaring, but he’d gone very still — the kind of stillness she recognised from when Lily watched cartoons and didn’t like a new character.

“Well...” Elliot said, turning back to her. “I’ll text you later about that fundraiser thing. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t.” she said, then added. “Thank you, Elliot.”

“Anytime.” With one last glance at Mason, Elliot gave a nod and walked off.

There was a beat of silence.

Mason watched Elliot head down the corridor, his jaw tight as he swirled the last bit of lukewarm coffee at the bottom of his cup. He looked sideways at Adeline, who was pretending not to notice how closely he was watching.

“What’s the fundraise about?”

“Well... It's a bit posh.” she said, stifling a yawn. “Hospital’s organizing a black-tie gala next month. Trying to raise money for a new medical wing. We’re short on space, staff, equipment—you name it.”

“Suit & Tie, huh?” Mason echoed, glancing at her with a crooked smile. “Didn’t have you pegged for the glitter and heels type.”

“That makes two of us.” she said, chuckling softly. “I’m not big on long dresses or awkward conversations over overpriced champagne, but it’s for a good cause.”

“What sort of stuff do they auction off?”

“Oh, all sorts of nonsense.” she said, waving her hand. “Luxury holidays, someone’s worn dress from a film premiere, private dinners with C-list celebs… last year someone bid £5000 for a weekend on a yacht in Mykonos.”

Mason let out a low whistle. “And let me guess, they want you front and centre in your best gown?”

“I’m part of the staff, not the main event, Mase.” she said dryly. “Elliot asked if I’d go with him as a plus-one, which sounded innocent enough… but I’ve not said yes, yet.”

Mason’s brow flicked, almost imperceptibly. “Right.”

She glanced at him, and for a moment, the air shifted — not tense, just aware.

“Still.” she added lightly. “if I do go, I’ll need to find a dress. Something decent but not too dramatic. It’s hard enough walking in heels, let alone pretending I belong in a room full of million-pound smiles.”

“You’d steal the room, Ady.” Mason said easily, his eyes on her now, unwavering.

Adeline raised an eyebrow, caught slightly off guard. “Would I?”

He gave a small shrug, but the smile tugging at his lips was undeniably flirtatious. “You’ve got that look… the kind that makes people stop talking when you walk in.”

She let out a short laugh, trying not to smile too much. “You rehearsed that one?”

“Not at all. Swear.” He grinned. “But if I’d known it’d make you smile like that, maybe I would’ve.”

She shook her head, biting back the laugh. “Alright, charmer."

“I’m just saying. You’d look great. Even if the dress ends up being some mad glittery thing. You’d still pull it off.”

A beat passed, her smile softening just slightly.

“Only problem is…” she said. “I don’t even know when I’d find the time to go. Between Lily, the hospital, and my sessions with you, I’m all over the place.”

Mason leaned back, tapping his fingers against the edge of the bench. “Then let me take you.”

“What?” Adeline blinked.

“To get the dress. I’ll drive. You can critique my music choices, roll your eyes at my fashion opinions, the full package.”

“You want to come dress shopping with me?” She gave him a skeptical look.

He shrugged again, nonchalant. “Why not? I’m free. And I’d rather be dragged round a shopping centre by you than sit through another tactical review video.”

Adeline narrowed her eyes at him playfully. “And what exactly is in it for you?”

Mason tilted his head, his voice dropping ever so slightly. “A couple of hours with you. That’s not bad, is it?”

For a second, she didn’t have an answer — and that was answer enough.

He stood, casually brushing off his trousers. “Think about it, yes?”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile that spread across her lips lingered long after he’d turned away.

(...)

The market bustled with Saturday noise — trolleys clattering, tills beeping, someone’s baby crying in the next aisle.

A smell of fresh bread and ripe tomatoes filled the air as Adeline held up a bunch of basil, arching a brow at Stella. “This one? Or are we pretending we’re doing fine dining and going for the organic overpriced one?”

Stella, inspecting a basket of cherry tomatoes, shot her a grin. “Go big or go home, darling. My date’s a lawyer. I need herbs that scream ‘I’ve got my life together.’”

“You’re cooking pasta, not hosting Master Chef.” Adeline chuckled, tossing the basil into the trolley.

“Details!” Stella waved her off. “Besides, it’s not about the food. It’s about the illusion. Candlelight, jazz, and a half-decent Chianti. He won’t know what hit him.”

They moved through the aisles, tossing in garlic, fresh parmesan, and a loaf of crusty bread. But even as she helped her best friend prep for a charming evening, Adeline couldn’t quite shake the nervous flutter in her stomach.

She stared a little too long at a shelf of sparkling water, lost in thought.

“Alright, what’s that face?” Stella glanced sideways.

“What face?”

“Pretending everything’s fine, but is not.”

“Mason offered to help me find a dress.” Adeline hesitated, then sighed.

“A dress? For that hospital event?” Stella blinked.

Adeline nodded, trying not to smile. “He said he could come with me. Moral support. Carry bags. Give rubbish fashion advice.”

“Did he now?” Stella smirked, tossing a box of breadsticks into the trolley. “And you just casually dropped that in here between tomato tins and rigatoni?”

“I didn’t want to make a big deal.” Adeline laughed, cheeks flushing.

“Oh, it is a big deal.” Stella said, dragging out the words. “He offered to go shopping. That’s not just flirting — that’s practically a romantic gesture in footballer language.”

“Stop.”

“I will not. Because now I need to know how you responded. Did you agree? Did you melt? Did your soul leave your body?”

“I might’ve said yes.” Adeline gave a half-hearted shrug.

Stella beamed, victorious. “So, the famous Mr. Mount is going to help you pick out a gown? Bet he’s hoping you try on about fifteen just so he can stare.”

“It’s not like that.” Adeline elbowed her.

“Oh, but it could be.”

They moved toward the wine aisle, the mood still light, but Stella noticed the shift in Adeline’s energy. She slowed the cart and asked gently. “Is it making things harder? Being close to him again?”

Adeline didn’t answer right away. She ran her hand along the bottles of red on the shelf, gaze unfocused. “It’s not just that. He offered the flat again. Said Lily and I could stay there, at least for a while, until I figure things out.”

“Are you thinking about it?” Stella’s expression softened.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, Stells.” Adeline admitted. “I hate feeling like a guest at your place — even though you’ve made it feel like home. I just... I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing, Ady.” Stella’s voice was firm. “This is your home too, for as long as you need it. But I get it. If staying at Mason’s flat makes life a bit easier for you and Lily, maybe it’s not a bad thing.”

“Feels like a line, though. Like if I cross it, I can’t go back.” Adeline gave a small smile.

“Maybe you don’t need to, babes.” Stella said simply. “Maybe going forward isn’t such a bad thing. Besides... he offered to help you shop for a gown. If that’s not a man ready to be crossed over the line for, I don’t know who is.”

Adeline laughed despite herself. “You always make it sound so easy.”

“Because I know you. And I know how long it’s been since you let someone in.”

They reached the checkout and Stella nudged her with her shoulder. “If you’re falling for him, Ady... it’s alright. Let yourself.”

Adeline didn’t reply — but her silence said more than words ever could.

(...)

The guest room had never felt smaller.

Adeline sat cross-legged on the bed, Lily tucked against her side with a tablet balanced on her lap, watching Paddington solve puzzles with a British accent far too posh to be realistic. Crayons were still scattered across the floor, abandoned after Lily’s brief artistic burst, and every few minutes, a burst of jazz filtered in from the kitchen — followed by another round of laughter from Stella and her very chatty date.

Adeline winced slightly at the sound of a cork popping.

She wasn’t annoyed — not really. Stella deserved a date, especially after putting up with a houseguest and a three-year-old tornado for over a week. But there was something about hearing the flirtatious hum of adult conversation from behind closed doors while you were sitting in borrowed pajamas and trying to keep a child entertained with cartoons that made you feel about twelve years old.

She sighed, shifted on the bed, and reached for her phone. A moment passed. Then, with a quiet exhale, she opened Mason’s chat.

Her fingers hovered for a second before typing.

Adeline: Is the shopping trip still a thing?

The “read” receipt popped up almost instantly.

Mason: Are you asking because you’re free or because you’re finally admitting you can’t shop without me?

Her eyes narrowed, amused. She could practically hear the grin in his voice.

Adeline: Let’s go with option C: I’m desperate and slightly horrified at the idea of shopping alone in a dress department.

Mason: That’s tragic. But lucky for you, I’m available. Tonight work?

Adeline blinked. Tonight?

Adeline: You’re joking.

Mason: Dead serious. You said it was urgent. I’m your knight in shining trainers. Well… joggers, technically.

Adeline smiled despite herself, glancing down at Lily who was now half-asleep, her head slipping off her arm.

Adeline: If you’re serious… can Lily come too?

There was a pause, then:

Mason: Only if she helps me judge the sparkly options. And you let me pick at least one ridiculous dress for you to try on.

She laughed softly.

Adeline: You’re insufferable.

Mason: And yet... you texted me.

Adeline: Fine. But, no pink.

Mason: No promises. I’ll be there in twenty.

Her stomach flipped. She looked down at her hoodie and socks, then quickly tapped out one last message.

Adeline: Stella’s date is here. I feel like a teenager sneaking out of the house.

Mason: Good. Let’s make it a proper rebellion. I’ll text when I’m outside.

She grinned. Of course he’d say something like that.

Tossing her phone to the side, she leaned over to nudge Lily, gently.

“Hey, sweetheart.” she whispered. “Fancy helping me and Mason find a dress tonight?”

“With sparkles?” Lily stirred, rubbing her eyes.

Adeline kissed the top of her head. “Definitely sparkles.”

And just like that, the jazz music outside didn’t matter anymore.

(...)

The car was warm and smelled faintly of cologne and something citrusy, like those fancy car air fresheners Adeline never bothered with. Mason reached across the passenger seat to open the door for her, the most casual gesture, but it made something flicker in her chest. Lily scrambled into the back with a beaming grin, already impressed just by the shiny car and the footballer behind the wheel.

“Hi, Mason!” she chirped, kicking her little legs excitedly.

“Alright, Lily?” he replied with a smile, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “You ready to be my fashion consultant?”

“Yes.” she said, very seriously. “But only if there’s snacks.”

Adeline let out a short laugh, shutting her door. “That’s non-negotiable.”

“I like her style. Smart girl.” Mason looked over at her, grinning.

He started the engine, the quiet hum barely audible under Lily’s voice already filling the space.

“Can we play music?” she asked. “Mommy has boring songs.”

“Oi!” Adeline said, twisting in her seat. “ I do not.”

“I mean the ones without singing.” Lily added, innocently. “It’s just instruments and feelings.”

Mason tried to contain a laugh and failed. “She’s savage. I respect it.”

“Don’t encourage her, Mount.” Adeline muttered, though the edge of her mouth tugged into a smile.

He tapped the screen on the dashboard. “Alright, DJ Lily. What’s the vibe?”

Lily gasped like he’d just offered her ice cream. “Taylor Swift!”

“Since when do you know your way around a pop playlist?” Adeline raised an eyebrow.

Mason shrugged, pulling out onto the road. “You pick up a thing or two in locker rooms. Also, Taylor’s got bangers.”

The car filled with the opening chords of Shake It Off, Lily singing along enthusiastically. Adeline relaxed into her seat, watching the city pass through the windows, a small smile playing on her lips.

“You’re really trusting me with this whole dress business, yeah?” Mason said after a few minutes, his tone casual.

“I wouldn’t call it trust...” she replied. “More like mild desperation.”

“Still sounds like a compliment to me.” He turned to look at her briefly, eyes playful.

They pulled into the shopping centre car park, and Lily unbuckled herself before either of them could stop her, already bouncing with energy.

“Right.” Mason said, stepping out and opening Adeline’s door again. “Let’s find something that says: I’m elegant, powerful, and not here to flirt with Mr. Fundraiser.”

She rolled her eyes, hopping down. “You do realise he has a name?”

“Do I?” Mason said, locking the car with a click and shooting her a look. “Haven’t heard it.”

Lily reached for both their hands — Mason’s with no hesitation — and tugged them toward the entrance.

Adeline glanced at their hands, then up at Mason. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger already.”

He looked down at Lily swinging between them and smiled. “What can I say? She’s cooler than you.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Adeline laughed, bumping his arm gently.

“True.” he said. “But I’m still the one helping you find a dress. So I win.”

The mall was buzzing with the hum of weekend shoppers, golden light pouring from the skylights above. Wide, polished floors gleamed under designer storefronts — cool marble tiles and endless glass displays that screamed luxury. Everything about it felt like it belonged to another world. Adeline adjusted Lily’s hand in hers and glanced sideways at Mason.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” she said, eyeing a nearby boutique window filled with mannequins in glittering gowns.

“You say that like I dragged you here.” Mason smirked.

“You didn’t.” she sighed. “But you bribed me with coffee and the promise of moral support.”

“Exactly. Which means I’m technically a hero.”

They began their search in a more laid-back store: soft lighting, minimalist decor, racks of gowns that leaned trendy rather than timeless. Adeline tried on a slinky silver dress first — too tight, clinging in uncomfortable places. Mason gave it a “3 out of 10, only because it’s shiny.” Lily squinted, then shook her head with a very serious, “You look like a disco ball, Mummy.”

The next was a strapless teal dress with feathers. Lily laughed so hard she nearly fell off the bench. “You’re a bird!” she squeaked. Adeline was laughing too, cheeks pink.

Dress after dress followed — an emerald green one that looked beautiful on the hanger but too stiff on her body; a floral ruffled one that made her feel like she was playing dress-up in someone else’s closet.

Each try was met with theatrical reactions from her “judging panel”: Lily with her hands over her mouth, Mason giving mock-serious notes like “it needs more drama” or “too garden party, not enough red-carpet.”

And yet, in the chaos of failed fashion experiments, Adeline found herself... happy. Watching Mason help Lily with a juice box, crouching to fix the strap on her shoe, their heads tilted together in laughter. She could almost forget this was meant to be a quick errand.

By the time they stepped out of the sixth store, her feet ached, her hair was messy, and her mood hovered between amused and exhausted.

“Alright.” she sighed, glancing at the sleek glass front of a boutique tucked near the end of the corridor. The interior glowed gold and ivory, with velvet chairs and mirrored walls, and gowns that looked like they belonged on magazine covers. “This is the last one. I probably can’t afford anything inside, but... might as well look.”

“You sure? Looks a bit... posh.” Mason tilted his head.

“I’m already dying, Mase.” she muttered. “Might as well do it in tulle.”

The moment she stepped inside, the air changed. A soft piano melody played overhead. The gowns shimmered in blush tones, muted metallics, and creamy whites. An attendant greeted her warmly and asked what she was looking for. Adeline explained quietly, almost shy, and was ushered to a dressing room while Mason and Lily settled onto a velvet couch with a handful of mini cookies.

Then, she saw it. The dress.

Delicate pink with embroidered roses blooming across the fabric. Soft layers of chiffon and organza created a flowy silhouette that felt romantic but effortless, dreamy without being overdone. It cinched gently at the waist and fell in a cascade of petal-like folds. She ran her fingers over the embroidery. It felt like something from a storybook.

She tried it on with care, her breath catching a little when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.

Then, cautiously, she stepped out.

Mason stood up instantly.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. He blinked once. Twice.

"Mommy, you’re a real princess!” Lily’s eyes lit up.

Adeline smiled nervously. “Is it too much?”

Mason shook his head slowly. “No. It’s... you. It’s perfect.”

She turned a little, struggling with the zipper. “Damn thing won’t go up.”

“Here.” Mason said softly, already stepping behind her. She gathered her hair to the side, letting his hands slide gently to the small of her back. The zipper moved slowly — partially because it was delicate, partially because he was distracted by the way she smelled like rosewater and something warmer beneath it.

She met his eyes in the mirror. Their gazes locked.

The air felt suddenly tight, like the silence might crack from the weight of it.

“That dress should come with a warning.” He cleared his throat, voice quiet.

“Why?” she asked, half breathless.

“Because if you wear that to the auction, no one’s going to look at the items being sold.”

“Let me check the price before I fall in love for real.” The moment shattered. Adeline laughed, stepping away.

She disappeared into the changing room again, heart still oddly fluttering — and then she saw the tag.

Her stomach dropped.

Literally, a month of her salary.

Later, at the register, she handed the dress to the attendant. “It’s beautiful.” she said softly. “But... it’s a bit out of my range.”

But, Mason waited until they were a few paces away, quietly stepping back to the counter and pulled out his wallet.

“Can I buy it for her?” he asked, his voice low. “But don’t say anything. Just — wrap it up and deliver it to her place. Make it look like it came from the store. No receipt, no names.”

The assistant’s eyes softened. “Absolutely. I’ll take care of it personally.”

“Do you have a card I can write on?” Mason glanced at the dress still hanging nearby, catching the light just right.

She handed him a small cream envelope and a pen. He stood for a second, thinking, then bent over the counter. Before Adeline could notice he was still in the store, Mason quickly tucked the card into the folds of the tissue paper as the woman began wrapping the dress, tying it off with a sleek black satin ribbon.

“Make sure it gets to the right address.” he added, handing her his card for the delivery.

“Sure.” she said. “Discreetly.” she let out a smile.

By the time Mason caught up with Adeline and Lily outside the shop, they were already walking ahead, Lily chattering about a dog she’d seen passing by. Adeline turned slightly as he joined them.

“They really should’ve marked it down.” she said with a small sigh. “Would’ve made it easier to walk away.”

“Looks like it was meant to be, anyway.” Mason shrugged casually.

Adeline gave a faint laugh, shaking her head, but her smile lingered. The kind of smile that made her eyes go soft, like she was still holding on to a little bit of the dress, even without having it in her hands.

And Mason — well, he smiled too.

But it wasn’t just about the dress.

It was about the way she looked at it like it was magic. The way she didn’t try to talk herself out of wanting it.

The way, just maybe, she was beginning to believe she deserved beautiful things.

Even if someone had to help her get them — quietly, from a distance.

(...)

The car hummed quietly as Mason navigated through the early evening streets of Manchester, city lights flickering to life like little promises. Adeline sat in the passenger seat, her fingers loosely laced in her lap, while Lily dozed with her head resting on her mother’s shoulder, the day finally catching up to her.

“I’ll drop you both at Stella’s.” Mason said, glancing sideways. “Unless…”

Adeline raised an eyebrow. “Unless?”

“There’s this little Italian ice cream shop I used to love. It’s right around the corner from my old flat.” He shot her a look, not quite a smile. “Figured we could celebrate the great dress hunt victory.”

“She’s almost asleep.” Adeline hesitated.

Mason lowered his voice. “She’ll wake up for ice cream. Come on, it’s great. I used to walk there after every match I didn’t screw up.”

“Alright.” she relented, hiding a smile. “But if she turns into a sugar gremlin, I’m sending her home with you.”

“Deal.” Mason smirked.

The bell above the door chimed as they stepped into the cozy little gelateria, nestled at the corner of a quiet block. It smelled like warm waffle cones and caramelized sugar, and the faint hum of Italian jazz drifted through the air.

“Mom, look at all the colors!” Lily came to life instantly, bouncing to the display case with wide eyes.

“Pick two. Two, Lily.” Adeline leaned down beside her, already laughing.

“Three.” Mason whispered to the girl. “We’ll tell your mom it was a sample situation.”

Lily giggled and looked up at the attendant with reverence. “One scoop of mint. One cookie dough. One… that pink one, please!”

“Strawberry?” the man behind the counter asked.

“No, the sparkly one.”

“She’s got good taste.” Mason leaned in, inspecting the glittery flavor.

“You’re not helping, you know.” Adeline tried not to smile as she picked a simple hazelnut scoop in a cup.

“I’m not trying to.” He winked as he handed her the spoon. “Besides, she’s got a system. Mint first, sparkle second, cookie dough always last.”

“You memorized her order?”

“She talks a lot when she’s excited.” Mason said, then looked down at Lily. “And she was very excited about this plan.”

Lily beamed like she’d just been knighted.

They took a seat near the window, the three of them tucked into a corner booth. Mason’s cone melted slowly under the warmth of his hand, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy watching Lily draw smiley faces on her napkin with the end of her spoon.

“She’ll crash in the car.” Adeline murmured, watching her daughter fondly.

“Worth it.” Mason said.

She looked over at him then — at the soft ease in his face, the way he leaned back with one arm stretched along the booth, utterly at home.

“Do you like this neighborhood?” she asked.

“Yeah.” he said quietly. “Still do, honestly.”

Adeline stirred her ice cream. “Stella’s place has been… kind. But temporary.”

“I figured.” He looked out the window, then back at her. “You know… my flat’s just around the corner. Still furnished. Clean. Quiet. Yours, if you want it.”

“You’ve offered before, Mase.” She hesitated.

“And I’ll keep offering, Ady.” he said gently. “But right now, just come see it. You don’t have to move in. No pressure. I just… want you to know it’s there.”

Adeline glanced down at Lily, who had just finished her cone and was now lazily tracing hearts in the condensation on the table.

“I don’t want her to get attached to something we can’t keep.”

“She already likes it here. That counts for something.” Mason’s voice lowered.

Adeline looked back up at him.

“Fine.” she said after a moment.

The building was set on a quiet street, tucked between trees and well-kept brick townhomes. It stood tall and modern, its facade a blend of charcoal steel and white stone, with balconies that overlooked the city skyline. The entrance glowed with soft recessed lighting, and a doorman greeted Mason with a familiar smile.

Adeline looked up, feeling suddenly small beneath it all.

“Chic.” she murmured as the elevator doors closed behind them.

“It’s not as dramatic inside.” Mason chuckled.

When the doors slid open, they stepped into a wide hallway with cream walls and dark hardwood floors. He led them to a door at the end, unlocking it with a quiet click.

The flat opened up before them — airy and warm, sunlight pouring in through massive windows that framed Manchester in dusky gold. The living room was sleek but inviting, with a deep navy couch, soft rugs, and touches of green from a few still-thriving plants. A bookshelf sat near the corner, filled with novels and old match-day programs. A pair of trainers sat neatly near the door.

“I kept most of it the way it was.” Mason said, slipping off his shoes. “Someone comes in once a week to keep it clean, just in case.”

Lily wandered in without hesitation, curling up on the couch like she’d done it a hundred times before. Adeline walked slowly through the space, fingers brushing along the kitchen counter, the back of the dining chair. There was nothing overly fancy about it — but it felt intentional. Comfortable. Real.

She stopped at the wide window in the living room, staring out at the view.

“It's beautiful, Mase.” she said softly.

“I bought it because of the view.” Mason said from behind her. “It always made things feel… less chaotic.”

When she turned around, he was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her like he wasn’t sure what she’d say next.

“I didn’t expect it to feel like… this.” Adeline exhaled slowly.

“Like what?”

“Like maybe I could picture me and Lily here.” She shrugged.

Mason’s gaze shifted toward the three-year-old, now dozing with her hand tucked under her cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Ady.” he said quietly. “Not rent. Not gratitude. Nothing. I just want you both to have somewhere safe. Somewhere that’s yours. Even if it’s temporary.”

“Let’s see the rest of it.” Adeline’s throat tightened, but she nodded.

The hallway was dimly lit, the kind of lighting that made everything feel slower. Softer. Mason gestured first to the guest bedroom.

“This one’s smaller, but bright in the mornings. Would be Lily’s, obviously.”

Adeline stepped inside, taking in the warm beige tones, the soft comforter, the books already stacked neatly on a floating shelf. There was even a little desk in the corner with a pinboard, a single daisy still pressed in the middle.

“She’d love it.” she said softly, more to herself than to him.

Mason didn’t say anything — just watched her as she touched the desk like she was already imagining her daughter there.

“And yours, would be this one.” he said after a beat, pushing open the next door.

Adeline stepped past him, and Mason’s breath caught — not because she brushed against him (though she did), but because she paused in the center of the room and looked around like she’d just walked into someone’s memory.

His.

The room was clean, but lived-in. A few trophies lined a shelf, and on the dresser sat a framed photo of his early days at Chelsea — him, barely out of his teens, with a grin that didn’t quite know how to hold ambition yet. Another frame held a picture of him and Declan, both younger, sunburnt and laughing.

The bed was unmade. Not messy, just… used. Like maybe Mason hadn’t stayed here in a while, but still came back sometimes. Still belonged here, even if it wasn’t his home anymore.

Adeline’s fingers hovered above the dresser before she spoke.

“You didn’t pack much.”

“I never really needed to.” Mason said quietly from the doorway. “I moved, but… not far. And I guess I liked the idea of this place waiting for something better.”

She turned to him then, and something shifted in the air.

It wasn’t loud — no thunderclap, no dramatic pause — but something fragile and electric threaded between them.

“You look different in those.” Her eyes softened as she glanced at the photos.

“Better or worse?”

“Younger.” she said. Then, after a moment: “Lonelier.”

Mason didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was low.

“I think I was.”

“And now?” Adeline stood still, her fingers curling at her sides.

“Now?” He met her gaze.

His voice barely made it to her.

“I don’t feel so alone.”

And there it was — that pause. That breath between something innocent and something that could be more. Her heart beat faster, but she didn’t back away.

“Mason…”

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.” he said quickly, eyes steady on hers. “I just wanted you to see that this place… could be yours. For however long you need it. No strings. No pressure. Just… a door that’s open.”

Adeline looked at him — really looked. The soft light from the window casting half of his face in shadow, his hands loose in his pockets like he was holding himself back.

“You always do that.” she said.

“Do what?”

“Say the exact right thing.”

Mason smiled — crooked, self-deprecating, that little spark of something mischievous in his eyes. “Only when it’s true.”

She moved closer, just slightly, just enough that the room felt smaller.

“I can see why you loved this place.” she said. “It feels like you, Mase.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Safe. Warm. A little messy.” She tilted her head.

“Ouch.”

“In a good way.”

Their eyes locked. The space between them didn’t shrink, but it didn’t need to — everything had already shifted.

And Mason, for once, didn’t make a joke. He just looked at her like he was waiting for permission.

Just one word. A blink. A breath.

And then maybe — just maybe — the moment would finally break.

Adeline didn’t move away. Neither did he.

The silence wasn’t awkward — it pulsed between them, thick with unsaid things. The kind that made your chest ache in the best way. The kind that made everything else — the world outside, the hum of the fridge, even the sound of Lily’s soft breathing in the living room — fade into nothing.

She glanced toward the window, her eyes catching the Manchester skyline bathed in dusk. Everything outside was steel and lights and movement.

But here, in this room, with him. It was still.

Safe.

Mason’s voice came, low and rough at the edges. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here since I left.”

Adeline looked back at him.

“I didn’t think I’d care about this place again. But now… with you here, I don’t know. It’s like I remember why I liked waking up in it.”

She swallowed, something pressing tight in her throat.

“I’m not saying it to get anything from you.” He took a step closer, slowly. “I know I push sometimes. I joke. I throw things out there just to see what you’ll do. But this...” his hand gestured between them, almost shy. “This isn’t a joke.”

Adeline’s breath caught.

It had been building for weeks — glances held too long, conversations that dug deeper than they were supposed to, his hand on her back when the wind picked up, her voice softening when she said his name. She hadn’t let herself name it. She hadn’t dared.

But now it was here. Right in front of her.

Mason was standing just a foot away, his eyes scanning hers like he needed to make sure she was with him in this moment. His voice dropped, barely audible now.

“I think I started falling for you the second you glared at me in that hospital room.”

Adeline’s lips parted — in surprise, in disbelief, in a thousand things she didn’t have words for.

“You hated me.” Mason smiled softly.

“I didn’t hate you, Mase.” she whispered.

“Sure felt like it.”

“You were cocky.”

“And you were impossible.” He took another step. “Still are.”

She let out a breath that was half a laugh, half something else entirely. He was right in front of her now, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him.

Her heart was a mess of rhythms. Fear. Hope. Wonder.

“Mason…”

His fingers brushed the side of her arm, barely there. Testing. Waiting.

“I just—” His voice cracked a little. “I just want to kiss you.”

Something in her chest gave way.

Her voice trembled as she nodded.

He moved in slowly, almost reverently. One hand cupped her jaw, warm and steady, the pad of his thumb grazing just below her cheekbone. Her eyes fluttered shut.

And then, finally, his mouth met hers.

It was soft at first. Careful. A question and a promise all at once.

But when she leaned into him — just slightly, just enough — it deepened.

Mason exhaled against her lips, like he’d been holding that breath for weeks. His other hand slid around her waist, drawing her close, like he couldn’t help himself now that he’d started. She gripped his shirt, needing something to hold on to, something to ground her in the middle of whatever this was exploding inside her.

The kiss grew — slower, then more urgent. Her back found the edge of the dresser and she didn’t care. His fingers slid into her hair. Her heart was racing, but she wasn’t scared.

She felt wanted. Completely, entirely wanted.

And not just her — Adeline. All of her.

When they finally broke apart, her forehead rested against his, breath mingling, eyes still closed.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

Until, Mason whispered. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Adeline nodded, lips still tingling. “Me too.”

He smiled against her skin.

And somewhere in the other room, Lily shifted in her sleep — a tiny sound in a quiet world. A reminder of reality waiting just outside the door.

But for now, in this room, nothing else existed.

(...)

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 12

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, some angst, mentions of nightmares, mentions of PTSD, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, therapy (we love), mentions of death/being sick, mentions of limb loss (it'll all make sense),

Word Count: 9500

Summary: Everyone prepares for the storm, and you're left with a lot to think about as some forgotten feelings come back.

A/N: Hiiii guys, I am so sorry this took SO LONG. For some reason it was so hard to write and school started so ya know how that goes. But hopefully this makes up for it?? I love all of you and as always I hope you enjoy. Reblogs and comments feed my life force just btw

p.s. you know I love to hear what you think, so fire away

Masterlist

Bob knows he messed up. He knows that, and as much as he wishes he never put you in this situation to begin with, he can’t undo what he said. Things have just gone completely downhill since he told you how he felt and it just…. feels like it’s all his fault. You’re quiet, secluding yourself, and almost scared at work now. But there’s not much he can do if you refuse to open up to him. He can’t help but worry for you, but it’s up to you now. If you want to talk to him, great. If not, he just hopes you talk to someone else.

The wind has slowly been gaining speed since early this morning when he took Sylvia out for a run. It was his last chance to get her out of the house before the shit hit the fan and he wasn’t gonna keep her cooped up anymore than she had to be. He’s been in a daze since yesterday. Can’t quite seem to focus on anything he puts before him, including the several garden gnomes and pieces of porch furniture belonging to his neighbors.

“You sure all of this will fit in the garage?”, he asks while carrying a chair down from the front steps.

“Oh I’m sure”, Rich replies. His eyes have been more focused on placing their gnome collection inside the house, but he’s been making room for everything else in the garage. He’s skeptical as he eyes the rest of the room, they’ve still got to fit their cars inside, too. He’s sure if he moved a couple of those storage bins to a higher shelf he’d be able to-

“You’ve already done enough for us, why don’t you come inside for some sweet tea, huh?”

“I’m ok”, he tries to brush him off.

“I’m not taking no for an answer Bob”, Rich offers with a raise of his thick eyebrow. Bob gives in, like he does most of the time with these two, and follows Rich inside. Harry sits at the table as he wraps up the rest of their pointy-hat clad lawn ornaments, but pauses at the sight of his husband.

“How’s everything going out there?”

“We’re just about done”, Rich responds from behind the fridge door, “I thought we deserved a water break.” Bob laughs to himself, he really hasn’t done much except move a couple pieces of furniture. He probably could have been finished by now if they didn’t keep offering him water or tea.

“Oh that reminds me”, Harry turns to his husband, “We need to bring the hose from the side of the house in. I forgot when I finished watering the garden yesterday.” Bob isn’t able to take one step in the direction of the door before Rich urges him into the seat across from Harry.

“Don’t you worry about that one young man, I got it.”

“It’s really no trouble-”

“I insist, you take a seat and drink your tea. You can take a turn listening to Harry complain for once.” Rich slides a glass of sweet tea in front of Bob before patting Harry on the shoulder and stepping outside.

“I just wish I could help you boys more”, Harry starts. “But ya know the leg starts acting up whenever a storm is coming.” He emphasizes his point by tapping his metal prosthetic onto the side of the table, shaking it the slightest bit. Bob’s never sure if he’s talking about the actual prosthetic hurting, or what’s left of his leg, but at this point he’s too scared to ask. All he knows is that whenever he gets a call from Harry early in the morning, there’s bound to be a storm before the day’s over. This time however, he got his weather from the news, like a normal person.

“So-”, Harry starts as Bob takes a swig from his glass, “Are we going to be seeing Miss Mitchell anytime soon?” The sweet tea halts in Bob’s throat, sliding down the wrong tube and causing him to choke on the beverage. He does his best to not drop the glass onto the table in order to stop himself from spraying the drink everywhere, but Harry looks like he could care less as his brow raises. Bob clearly was not expecting him to bring you up, and Harry’s squint gives into the fact he’s happy to catch him off guard.

“I’d make an assumption, but I’m not quite sure how to make one out of that kind of reaction.” Bob continues trying to clear his throat by coughing, but Harry waits.

“No”, he chokes, “She uh- she won’t be coming by anytime.” Harry hums to himself as he turns back to the bubble wrap.

“That’s too bad. She was quick, I liked her.” Me too, Bob thinks to himself. He just gives him a slight frown at the news. “Seemed like you were pretty fond of her, too.” Bob’s cheeks heat up at his insinuation, and he tries to make a run for it.

“Ok! I should probably go help-”

“Sit back down”, Harry groans. Bob begrudgingly does as the man says as he begins to toy with the condensation forming on his glass. “All I’m saying is, you both obviously like each other. What gives?” All he can do is shake his head at the thought. There’s too much, but maybe he’ll understand.

“There’s just a lot of other stuff involved.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Well, for starters her title isn’t ‘Miss’... it’s Lieutenant.” Bob’s gaze flicks over to watch Harry’s eyes widen in realization.

“Shit. Is she a WSO, too?”

“Nah, she’s a pilot”, he smiles, “A damn good one.” Harry chuckles as he crosses his arms.

“I shoulda known.” Bob furrows his brows, silently asking him to explain. “She just had this look in her eye…Can’t really explain it.” Bob knows the one. The silent determination he sees whenever you climb into the cockpit. No matter what happens on the ground, once you ascend that ladder… you’re focused. And no one can take that away from you.

“So that’s it then? You're just gonna let her go?” Harry probes as Bob shakes his head. He focuses on a grain of wood in the table, avoiding the man’s gaze.

“It’s against strict rules”, Bob shrugs, “I don’t want to be the reason she gets into trouble. It’s better if we just leave it.”

“Is it?” Bob grabs his glass of sweet tea and takes a sip before Harry leans forward in his seat, “If I know anything about you Bob, it’s that you’ve got a level head on those shoulders. And from what I can tell about Lieutenant Mitchell, it’s that she does, too. But you can’t forget underneath all of that, you have hearts. You can’t leave that out of the equation.” Bob stills as he taps his finger on the rim of his glass. Yeah, Bob has a heart, but you do, too. And who knows if deep down this is what you really want? If he’s what you really want.

His thoughts are interrupted by Harry once again, this time as he finishes wrapping up the last gnome.

“Mitchell, huh?” Bob mindlessly nods. “You don’t happen to know if she’s got any family who served, do ya?”

“Yeah, actually. Her dad just happens to be our captain. Pete Mitchell-”

“Maverick?!”, Harry all but yells. “That cocky motherfucker’s still in service?” The front door slams shut as Rich makes his way back inside.

“What cocky motherfucker are we talking about?”, he asks as if this is a normal topic of conversation for the two of them.

“Pete Mitchell”, Harry tells him as he stares at Bob in awe.

“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time”, Rich replies as he grabs himself and Harry their own drinks. Bob pivots in his seat as Rich brings both glasses to the counter, eyes wide in shock. “Don’t tell me-” He’s obviously already made the connection as Harry nods at him. He simply shrugs and continues to pour their drinks, brushing off the fact that Harry seems to be stuck on. Something he thought Rich of all people would want to talk about.

“Did you fly with him?” Bob directs the question at Harry. He rolls his eyes.

“For a very brief time. He’s a few years younger than me, but always acted like he was the best of the best. Didn’t even win the goddamn Top Gun trophy.”

“Well”, Rich chimes in as he sets the glass in front of Harry, “That wasn’t entirely his fault.” Bob’s eyes unintentionally squint as he tries to think back on what he actually knows about your dad. There’s very limited information he sought after Hangman revealed he flew with Rooster’s dad, and- then it hits him.

“Wait”, he stops the two men, “Were you guys here when they had the accident?”

“I wasn’t”, Harry responds, “But Rich was. He was actually one of the-” Rich’s hand claps down on his husband’s shoulder, effectively stopping him from finishing the story. He grants Bob a forced smile.

“I was. It was a… a very sad day.” Rich keeps moving, leaving his glass of tea untouched as he moves the box of packed up gnomes to the living room. Bob leaves it at that. If there was more to the story he wouldn’t want to probe where he’s not welcome to.

After helping move the small outdoor coffee table into the garage, he insists on parking their cars himself. Just to make sure he did leave enough room for everything to fit. And with his many years experience with Tetris, he’s able to pack anything that the wind might sweep away into safe hiding spaces for the night.

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

If the puffy eyes that greet you in the mirror are any indication that you’d been crying, the wad of tissues scattered around your trash can would certainly do the trick. It was an ugly cry, one that you realized was futile to resist against the snot dripping down your nose. You’d cried more in the past couple months than you had in the past five years. Not to mention you haven’t cried to the point where you kept a roll of toilet paper to use as tissues next to your bed since you were a teenager. But even then you had mastered to cry in silence, to not alert anyone or “bother” someone with the noise of your anguish.

It wasn’t a question that was the reason for your headache. You even forgot you got hit in the face until you tried wiping the sleep from your eyes, only to pull your hand away as soon as it brushed near the red and purple bruise.

“Son of a bitch”, you muttered as you made your way to the bathroom. The wind howls outside your room as you splash your face with cold water, hoping to reduce the swelling before inevitably seeing your father. Gently, you wipe your face with a towel, taking a good hard look at the aftermath from the night before. You huff out a breath before tearing your gaze away from the mirror, gathering the tissues you’d thrown half-heartedly in the direction of the trash can the night before.

Your father is already up and moving as you descend the stairs. Granted, you did allow yourself to sleep in today. He’s sitting on the couch, slipping his shoes on when you make eye contact. He immediately smiles with a grimace upon seeing your face.

“Hey sweetheart”, he greets you, “How you feeling this morning?” You simply scoff and turn to the kitchen. The coffee machine is still warm, your dad already having at least his second cup of the day.

“Like I got hit in the face”, you respond. The machine hums while you let it work, and you grab an emblazoned Navy mug from the cabinet. You turn to lean on the counter, watching him finish lacing up his boots. “Where are you going?”

“Well, Penny’s moving everything at the bar and I figured since I took care of our stuff yesterday, I’d go help out. Plus it’ll be my last chance to take the bike for a spin this weekend.”

“And they say chivalry is dead”, you comment as the coffee seeps into your cup. He chuckles and makes his way over to you. You turn, mug in hand as he walks up. He grimaces again at your face, but his shoulders slump as he notes your puffy eyelids. “How’d you sleep”

“Alright”, you mumble.

“I can stay here if-”

“Dad”, you groan as you roll your eyes, “What am I, five?”

“No- but I’m just saying, if you need me I’ll be here for you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine.” He seems unsure as he glances between you and the front door. “Go”, you urge him, “Be a knight in shining armor.” He laughs again as he bids you goodbye and leaves. The rumble of his motorcycle tapering off as he exits the neighborhood.

Truly, you are fine. You’re not great, but you’ve been worse. In fact, this is probably the most down time you’ve had in a while. If you were still talking to Bob you would probably text him and see what he was up to, but alas. There’s not much to do except waste away for the rest of the day. Which is exactly what you do. You turn the t.v. on and throw your feet up. They almost hit the large box Bradley left yesterday. You guess you could see what’s in there for you, but you’re already so comfortable and it's just so… far away. And soon enough, your eyes are drooping shut again.

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

The day passes by painlessly as you switch from folding laundry, to eating whatever is left in the fridge. Your headache slowly dissipates with every bite of food and drink of water, but as it gets closer to evening, the noises from outside get louder and louder. A leaf from a palm tree being ripped from its home and hitting the side of the house, ran pattering, and thunder booming in the distance.

Deciding you’ve had enough of scrolling aimlessly through your phone, you move back to the living room and turn on something you can watch without much thought. The cardboard box Bradley brought over still sits on the coffee table, and huffing out a breath you decide to take the lid off. There’s a bundle of old photos, a couple of dirtied up baseballs, and an old envelope you move to look at, but your phone rings before you can inspect it further. Your dad’s face appears on the screen and you swipe to answer.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

“Hey kiddo, listen, there was a lot that needed to be boarded up and taken care of at the bar, I just barely got back to Penny’s. I know everything’s taken care of at the house, but the wind and rain are picking up. I don’t want to leave you alone, but it might be safer just to spend the night here. Are you gonna be ok?”

“Dad, I'll be fine. I’d feel better knowing you’re at Penny’s rather than driving your bike in the storm.” You can hear him sigh on the other end. Even with your permission you know he still feels guilty leaving you.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I swear. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok sweetheart. Promise you’ll call me if anything happens or you need me, ok?”

“I promise”, you can’t help but smile through your words at his protectiveness.

“Alright, well I love you, and hopefully things will slow down and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Love you, too, dad. Bye.” He bids you goodnight, even if it isn’t 8 o’clock yet, it feels like much later with the storm clouds covering up any chance of dying sunlight.

Turning back to the box you pick up the envelope, there’s an unexpected weight to it and you hold your breath at the sight of Carole’s handwriting. There’s one word on the front and it’s simply labeled “Bug”. Your once steady hands shake as you trace the folded edge that has been sealed for almost two decades. You can’t open it fast enough, but at the same time you’re hesitant to see quite possibly what her last words to you could be. Slipping your finger under the seal, you try to minimize the damage as it rips open. As if it were an extension of the woman herself.

Inside sits a lined piece of journal paper, folded neatly into thirds. But your eyes linger on the item weighing it down as you huff out a breath in disbelief. Your fingers reach inside, and once completely taken out of its hiding place, a silver chain with a butterfly pendant hangs from your hand. 

 With the necklace still wrapped around your fingers, your eyes water as you reach for the note, unfolding it. The paper shakes as your heartbeat quickens. And her voice fills your head while you trace the all familiar cursive with a featherlight touch.

My Darling Bug,

Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice this found its way back into my possession? I don’t know why or when you did this, but I thought I told you it wasn’t mine anymore. I gave this to you for a reason, Bug. I wanted you to know that Bradley, your dad, and I will always be with you. I think you might need it now more than ever. It might be a little different, but I don’t want you to look at it and be sad I’m not with you. I want you to look at it and be happy that I still am, no matter what.

I know I made you promise me to be brave. And you have kept that promise, so if you think you haven’t, you’re wrong. But maybe I should have worded it differently, because you don’t need to be brave like anybody else. I want you to continue being brave like you. Because I know you are. Even so, I want you to remember how I got this necklace in the first place. It all happened because Goose was brave enough to ask. He taught me that being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared anymore. It means that even though you are scared, you do it anyway. You don’t run from it, you face it head on. He always told me I wasn’t born with the fear part of my brain intact, but he was wrong. When we lost him, I knew for a fact that part of my brain was there. I was so scared, but I knew I had to keep going. If not for me, then for Bradley and your dad. Heaven knows your dad was scared out of his mind, but that’s what makes him one of the bravest people I know. He kept flying, and then soon enough, you came along and changed our lives completely. And I know I’m rambling, but I just need you to know how much you mean to me- to all of us.

So I don’t want you to live your life in fear or with regrets, wondering the same things, so please; continue to be the brave girl I know you are. It’s hard to take those first steps. But it is so worth the risk, because you deserve everything good this world has to offer.

And this may or may not make it easier, but I just ask that you take this back and wear it with pride. I will always be with you, bug. And I can’t stand another moment having this sitting in my jewelry box, collecting dust when you can wear it and put it to much better use. You deserve it. I love you very much, don’t forget that.

P.S. I know Bradley’s a big boy and he acts like he can take care of himself, but I know he’ll need you just as much as you need him. Same with your dad. Be there for each other.

-Love, Carole

You move the letter away from under your face as you feel the tears start to fall. You’re just quick enough as they hit your lap instead. The necklace is now safely encased in your grip as you take in a ragged breath. All this time- You can’t stomach the thought. This entire time, these past 16 years you’ve been separated from this last piece of Carole you never even knew existed. And the necklace you thought was lost to time now sits in your palm. You hold on to it. Tight.

You still don’t let go as you gingerly place the letter back in the envelope. Deciding you need to put these two things in a safer spot than your living room, you walk up to your room and go to the shoebox above your closet. Inside, you move the velvet box with your Academy ring to the side, making room for the letter. You almost place the necklace in with it, but you’re not going to disobey Carole by not putting it on the next chance you get.

With the silver chain still wrapped in your hand, you put the shoebox back, just about tripping over your flight suit in the process. In everything that happened yesterday after therapy you must have forgotten to put it in your laundry basket, or hang it up at least. As you pick the jumbled green fabric up, your ears prick up at the sound of something hitting the floor. The gleam of a copper coin catches your eye and you drop your uniform altogether, opting to pick it up instead.

Carole’s words swirl through your head as your heart rate picks up. You stare at the penny in one hand, and open your other to reveal the silver butterfly. The memory of Bob’s crooked smile fills your senses and your heart beats faster again. There’s a phantom ache of his hand cradling yours, gently placing that first penny into your palm on the tiled floor of the locker room. Even before you kissed there was this urge to want to get to know him from deep inside the dark recesses of your heart. From places you thought you blocked off and boarded up after your last boyfriend. You left no room for weakness, no room for anyone to have the upper hand, but yet, you feel safe around Bob. You still do, even after it tore you to shreds resisting that same urge to talk to him, to look at him. It scares you, how after only meeting him a few months ago, it feels like he knows the darkest parts of you, and still wants to learn more. To care for you in a way that you haven’t let someone in a long time. And you want to do the same for him.

That urge sends chills up your spine as thunder booms in the distance, the once small patter of rain picking up as it hails on your roof. Clenching the penny in your fist, you delicately hold the necklace in the other, and you swear the lightning reflects off the silver butterfly, almost winking at you. In the glint, you hear Carole’s voice from when she first gave it to you, and again through her writing. “Be brave”, her whisper echoes. And in that moment, your heart beats louder, anticipating what you know you’re going to do next before your brain has the time to catch up. Placing the necklace on your side table next to your bed, your feet sprint down the stairs the moment the chain leaves your fingers.

You can hardly differentiate the thud of your feet  from the thunder that is somehow getting closer by the second. Throwing on the nearest jacket and lacing up your shoes, you grab your keys and head to the garage. Your old faithful Toyota lays dormant as you jump in, and start the engine. Or at least try to. It sputters a couple times as you turn the key again, and again.

“No, no, no. Please”, you plead as you take a deep breath, holding out hope as you try one last time, “C’mon!” With a final twist, the engine roars to life. “Yes! Thank you!” The garage opens and closes with the click of a button as you peel out of the driveway, probably a little too fast, but who would be crazy enough to be on the streets in these conditions?

The rain doesn’t stop on your account, and both hands are white knuckling the steering wheel as you attempt to maintain the little control you have of your vehicle over mother nature. Your windshield wipers are moving as fast as they can, but it’s little to no good as you traverse the streets. You might have been better off with a canoe.

Nonetheless, you’re so close. Your destination is only a couple blocks away, practically in sight as your car lurches forward, sputtering, before ultimately slowing as you pull to the side of the road.

“No, no, no, are you kidding me?!”, you scream as you hit the steering wheel. She was doing so good! What happened? Placing the car in park, you remove the key and try again, but nothing. Squinting through the rain pattered window, you make out the street sign up ahead as it sways in the wind. This is ok. You can do this. Clenching your jaw and ensuring your phone is buried deep in one of your pockets along with your keys, you push against the gusts of wind and open the car door.

Your face is immediately pelted with ice-like bullets, raining down on you without mercy. Even with the hood of your jacket on, it does no good as you run across the sidewalk and turn down the street. A few house lights are on, but you can barely see as the rain washes over you in sheets. A gust of wind almost gets the better of you as you try your hardest to hold the hood to your head, creating any kind of cover you can. You are so close to throwing in the towel. So close to going back to your car and hiding away until the storm is over. But you didn’t come this far just to turn back. You will not give up.

Shining just a bit brighter than every other house on the street, your destination is in sight. Just one block and your feet make the decision for you to move faster. To run like you never have before, because this time you’re not running from anything. You’re running towards something. The rain hits you quicker, but it’s hard to feel it soak through your clothes as your feet pound against the pavement. 

Your shoes slip on the step to the front door, and your fist meets the entrance much sooner than you were expecting. It creates a loud knock, but there’s no sign of life behind the door. Gaining your footing back, you knock once more. Nothing. You knock twice again. Damn it. He must not be able to hear you through the storm’s havoc. You don’t care anymore, you weren’t thinking when you hopped in your car, and you aren’t trying to stay out in the rain all night. Your knuckles are knocking repeatedly on the door, and that’s when you hear Sylvia bark. She’s getting louder as she moves closer to the door and you continue your knocking, hoping he’ll hear you over her.

“Please, c’mon”, you mutter to yourself as your teeth chatter against the words. Your knuckles are going raw from the sheer cold and the fact that you’ve been hitting them against the door for what feels like 20 minutes. The door opens with a rush of warm air and you’re greeted with the halo wrapped face of someone who only feels like warmness and comfort. The light shines around his features as they contort at what stands in front of him.

“Mantis, what the hell?!”, he yells through the wind while reaching forward to pull you inside. “Oh my god, are you crazy?!”, he exclaims as he holds your arms in place. Your teeth are chattering as he tells you to stay put before coming back with a towel that he promptly throws over your shoulders. It doesn’t do much good as you’re soaked to the bone, but he’s frantically looking for more before you reach out for him.

“Bob-”

“What are you doing here?!”

“I- I’m being brave”, you explain through the pounding rain and thunder. He pauses just for a moment, then shakes his head as he stares at you in utter confusion.

“Did you.. run here? Mantis, are you ok?”

“Bob I’m fine-”

“Do you know where you are? How did you get here?”

“Bob!”, you finally raise your voice and he meets your gaze instead of your rain-drenched form. “I will explain everything, but please just let me say what I came here to say”, you breathlessly supply. He looks back to you, hesitant, but nodding to let you continue.

“Ok”, he whispers. You can barely feel your fingers, or your toes for that matter, but your shaky hand reaches into your pocket and grasps onto the single penny you came here with. The only thing that you made sure to bring.

“What did you mean by this?”, you ask as you hold it out in front of him. “When you gave this to Phoenix, what did you want me to make of this?” His eyelashes flutter in a series of blinks as he silently takes in a breath. Without meaning to, the coin shakes in your hand, and he rushes an answer before you have to stand there any longer.

“It means what it’s always meant. I know I messed everything up, but I still want you to feel like you can trust me, and talk to me. Because you can. I know how scary it can be, and it’s…rare to find someone you feel so comfortable to be around and talk to about the nitty gritty parts of your life. And I like to believe I was that for you for a little bit, ‘cause… you were that for me.” Your heart melts at his sentiment as you continue to drench the walkway of his home.

“Now can you please tell me why you drove here in the middle of a hurricane?” You swallow, hoping whatever fears you have fall to the back of your throat to make room for what you need to tell him. Because, here you are: Soaking wet, standing in Bob’s home, with nothing but a penny and the knowledge that even if you’re scared, you can do this anyway.

“Bob”, you sigh, “You have not messed anything up. In fact, you did something I was too afraid to do.” Taking another deep breath, you ignore the lines riddled in his forehead and continue.

“I have been scared for most of my life. I know sometimes I act like I’m invincible, but I’m not. But I am also sick of being scared. I am sick of pretending. Life is too damn short, and for once instead of just acting like I am, I am trying to be brave. I can’t let this be another ‘what if’. I won’t let you be that. You deserve to at least know how I feel.”

“Mantis, you don’t have to-”

“No, but I want to”, you nod with authority, solidifying to Bob that this is a risk you want to take. You take in another deep breath as it fills you with courage. “Bob, it’s hard to explain, but- you make me feel brave. But at the same time you also scare the shit out of me”, you can’t help but laugh as the crease in his forward melts a little bit. “You scare me because you care so deeply for the people around you, and you’re so generous, and kind, and I can’t help but want to be around you all the time. And- and I’m rambling aren’t I?”, you ask as he breathes out a miniscule laugh. And then you’re gifted with the slightest uptick of his mouth. Just enough for you to know that he’s still listening. But when is he not?

“Anyway. I just- it kills me that you think so lowly of yourself, and I need you to know that I care about you. A lot. And if it hasn’t been blatantly obvious by how I’ve kissed you”, he blushes and looks down at his feet as if he didn’t kiss you with just as much passion, “I like you beyond the point of being friends. And- I feel like you see me. Not just as an aviator, not just as a woman, but as a person. But that’s also scary in itself because you’ve seen my flaws, and each time you didn’t look away. You stayed. You stayed and made sure I didn’t stay down.”

“You didn’t need me for that”, he shakes his head. And you smile through your shaky breath. “You don’t stay down long.”

“Maybe not, but it’s easier to get up when someone lends you a hand.” He stills at your words and your mind tracks back to find the courage you came here with. It’s not hard when Bob’s standing right in front of you with Carole’s voice running through the back of your mind.

 “I’ve tried brushing these feelings off, and staying away from you, thinking I was doing what was best for the both of us. And… I don’t know about you, but it’s only been like two days without talking to you- and I miss being around you.” The tell you’re about to cry starts with your throat straining, and at this point you’re trying everything to talk through it. “I don’t want to mourn you while you’re still here-”, you choke out as you clench your jaw to stop your teeth from chattering any louder than they already are.

“Hey”, Bob whispers as he moves closer to you, “It’s ok-”

“I don’t want to lose you when I’ve never even had you”, you breathe a shaky breath as he places his hands on your shoulders, the warmth permeating through your jacket and towel.

“Whoa, where is all this coming from?” Your breathing is rapidly increasing, as he stares down into your eyes, concern painted through the way he looks at you. That and something else you’re too hyped up on adrenaline to identify at this moment. 

“It’s ok, just breathe for me. Can you do that?” You nod as you stare back at him, his hands reaching out to grasp your own, placing one on his chest. Just like he did in the locker room. God, it feels like it was ages ago.

“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing”, he mutters as he puts both of his hands atop your own. Your fingers thrum over the soft cotton of his shirt, and you’re almost certain his heart is beating just as fast as your own.

“Your heart’s beating really fast”, you comment as you watch your fingers underneath his.

“Are you sure that’s not your own?” You exhale a laugh, but continue to feel that familiar thump from his chest.

“No, that’s definitely you.”

“Yeah”, he manages a nervous smile, “That usually happens when I’m around you.” Your hand is slowly gaining feeling back under the protection of his own, and your eyes meet his. He whispers your name softly, and this time you don’t flinch. You don’t break away, you don’t blink. Your teeth are still chattering, the noise distracting him from whatever he was going to say.

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes, yeah?” Silently you nod as he gives you a brief smile. He’s seemingly already accustomed to the idea of you staying the night, something you didn’t think of before running out of your own house. Taking your hand in his own, he leads you to the bottom of his stairs before jogging up to what you presume to be his bedroom. You wait as you attempt to clench your jaw to stop chattering your teeth, but that’s when you spot a shiny black nose poking out from the corner of the living room. 

“Hey Syl”, you whisper while bending down. She retreats almost immediately at the sight of you, but reappears at the familiar voice. You realize you must look kind of scary with your jacket hood plastered to your face. In an attempt to get her to come closer, you peel your hood off of your head and tempt her again with your outreached hand. “It’s just me sweet girl”, you whisper as she moves forward to sniff your hand. Her tail starts a wag at the appearance of your face and you smile as she gets close enough for you to pet her head. 

You’re scratching her ears as Bob returns from upstairs, now carrying clothes for you to change into.

“Ok, I’ve got some sweat pants and a t-shirt”, he explains as he sorts through them, “But I do have a sweatshirt in case you’re still cold.” He shifts his attention back to you as you stand and accept the clothes with a quiet ‘thank you’. Without the hood obstructing his view of your entire face, his brow immediately furrows at the shadow just to the side of your eye. He doesn’t get a good look at it before you’re turning to change in the bathroom. He must be seeing things. A shadow from your hair, the dim lighting, it just can’t be what he thinks it is.

Peeling your wet clothes off your body was something you didn’t think about while sprinting full speed down Bob’s street. But here you are, in his downstairs bathroom, admiring the softness of both the shirt and sweatpants he’s offered you. You’re soaked right down to your underwear, and rather than sitting uncomfortably in a wet bra and underpants, you decide to go commando. If you get cold enough Bob did offer you a sweatshirt. Tossing your wet clothes over the shower curtain, you slowly walk out of the bathroom. It’s quiet. Other than the occasional rumble of thunder, or whip of wind and rain against the windows, the only thing you’re aware of is your own breathing. Until you get into the living room and find Bob picking at his thumbs on the couch. He doesn’t notice you, and for the first time tonight, you hesitate. You run your fingers over the bottom of Bob’s shirt, holding it out slightly in front of your body. Just admiring how quickly he offered his own clothes to you. Your hair is slightly damp, but not dripping like it was moments ago, thanks to the towel he gave you when you first came in.

He must hear you shift on your feet, because soon enough his eyes follow your form in his clothes, the pants tight in some places, loose in others, but the large t-shirt does its job. He stops on your face as you give him a nervous smile and make your way over to the other end of the couch.

“Oh my god, what happened?”, he all but rushes out as you sit. His eyes are frantic with worry as you trace his concerned gaze to your cheek.

“Oh that”, you try to laugh, “It was an accident.” He swallows while he stiffens in his seat. Bridging the gap you left between the two of you, he catches your gaze as you look down at his hand.

“Mantis”, his voice darkens, “I need you to be completely honest with me.” He’s staring so intently into your eyes you feel like you’re center stage in a show you weren’t given the lines to. A kind of intensity you’ve never seen directed toward you from the man. “Did somebody hurt you?” You’re stuck in your spot, and without hesitating you answer him.

“No”, you breathe as you softly shake your head, “Bob, I promise you it was a complete accident. I was playing catch and wasn’t paying attention.” He eyes it one more time, and you see his hand twitch in his lap before it slowly makes its way to cup your face, turning it to take a better look. You hold your breath at the movement, but once his thumb strokes lightly over your skin you melt into his warmth.

“Well whoever you were playing catch with knows how to throw a pretty wicked fastball”, he mutters as he takes in the bruising along with the indent of the stitching.

“Yeah”, you sigh, not able to say much as he holds the weight of your face and much more in his gentle hand. “Rooster was a pitcher on his high school team.”

“You were playing catch with Rooster?” You let out a breathy laugh, knowing how confusing this must be.

“It’s a long story”, you tell him. “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“And he still threw it at you?”

“I try not to make sense of Rooster’s actions anymore.”

“Next time you wanna play catch, you come to me. Ok?” His eyes are still on the bruise, analyzing it from every angle.

“Are you saying you won’t throw the ball at my face?”

“No. I’ll make sure you’re ready first.” His smile fades the tiniest bit, but his hand has yet to move. It’s quiet again until a particularly loud burst of thunder has him dropping his hold on you.

“Um, let me get you some ice.”

“I’m fine. My face, feet, and hands are pretty much still numb.”

“May I?”, he asks, reaching for your hands. You’re facing him now, and he turns to mirror your own crossed legs as his hands clasp your own. Slowly, without looking back at you, he brings them closer to his face and before you have the good sense to realize what’s going on, his warm breath fans over your dead fingers. Something flips in your stomach as he starts rubbing his thumbs over the back of your palms after each slow and agonizing breath.

The contrast in temperature hurts your fingers down to the bone, but you can’t seem to take them away from Bob. He stops the breaths just for a second as he rubs your hands in contemplation.

“Mantis… Why are you here?” You’re almost certain your swallow is audible as you stare down at your joint hands. He doesn’t push you when you don’t immediately answer. He only continues to soothe your aching extremities. But when he starts breathing on them again and his glasses fog up slightly, that’s when you truly start to feel the discomfort seep from your fingers. And that’s when you know you have your answer for him. Because he will truly put your needs before his own. His clothes on your back, his sight for your warmth, his happiness for your own. But he doesn’t quite know the true extent of your own unhappiness without him in your every day.

Your answer sits on the tip of your tongue, but truly, your brain speaks before you can formulate the words you need him to hear.

“I went to therapy”, you blurt out as you stare at him. God, why can’t your mouth just say what it needs to? Why is this so hard? Bob looks at your face at your admission, blinking away his shock at the volume at which you spoke them.

“That’s- that’s great.” He goes back to rubbing your fingers, ruminating on your words, then stopping suddenly. “It wasn’t ‘cause of me, was it?”

“No!”, you’re quick to correct him. “Not at all.. I mean it wasn’t your fault, but I did talk about you a little bit”, you admit bashfully. He nods, seemingly drawing his own conclusions. “It wasn’t anything bad. Just-”. You’re hesitant to tell him about your dreams, about why your dad called him that day. Why you were so fidgety and couldn’t even look him in the eye. But then you look back at him, and you know everything will be ok. He won’t run, or look at you with pity. He might be concerned, sure, but he’ll still be there for you.

“After Nat’s party, I had a nightmare. I haven’t had one in years, and it kind of rattled me. And then I had another one. They usually happen after I feel like I’ve done something I shouldn’t have. Something that would- make my mother mad at me.��� He stiffens at your words, brows drawing up once more. He knows. And you don’t want him to blame himself. “But yeah, I got back in touch with my therapist. Gonna make it a regular thing now… but after my session she asked me to list three people who make me feel wanted. And it was very clear to me you’re on that list. And I hope I make you feel important, too. I know I haven’t this past week- and I’m sorry-”

“Hey”, he tugs your hands toward him just enough to get your attention, “You had enough going on, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do. I can’t help it.” He whispers your name and averts his gaze from your face like he can't even bear to look at you right now. You didn’t think this was news, last time you were here he told you essentially the same thing.

“What?”, you whisper back.

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

Bob did not imagine even in his wildest dreams you would run to him in the middle of a storm. But here you are, pouring your heart out to him, your hands in his, his old t-shirt draped over your shivering body, but there’s still that tiny part of his brain telling him it’s too good to be true. And in reality, it is. Because what is he supposed to do now? What did you hope to achieve by coming over here? Your feelings don’t change the fact that this is still wildly against rules in place.

It might have been easier for him to deal with it on his own not knowing exactly how you felt, but now? He can’t put you in a position for someone to take your dream away from you. Especially after how much you’ve had to sacrifice to get to where you are. And there’s still so much for you to do.

“What do you want me to do with these feelings?” He finally asks and you’re caught off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- a few days ago when you came to me you were so sure this wasn’t a good idea. And now?” He searches your face for an answer in your silence. “What changed?”

“I found a letter from Carole. It was meant for 12-year-old me, " you can’t help but release a watery laugh, “but she just reminded me that some things are worth the risk.” You pause for a moment, squeezing his hands for reassurance before continuing.

“Our jobs are dangerous, and even if they weren’t, life is so precious. And I don’t want to continue breathing if I’m only half-living. I already did that, and I refuse to do it again. And I’m not asking you to do anything with what I’ve told you, I just had to let you know. And that might be selfish, but I know running from what I’m feeling isn’t fair. To you or me.”

It’s quiet again, you’re not sure if Bob is looking at you anymore, but your eyes are drawn back to his hands. One of the single greatest comforts you can’t help but indulge yourself in. A flash of lighting pierces the corner of your eye and the boom of thunder follows shortly after. It almost bleeds into the rasp in his voice as he speaks.

“Is it selfish if we both want it?”. Your eyes snap to meet his and you’re hit with that intensity again. It’s slightly masked by insecurity, but you can see how much this means to him. You’re so sure he can hear you release a sharp breath.

“What do you want-” Your thought is cut off by a deep rumble of thunder, almost shaking the structure of the house. You flinch as if the roof were about to collapse on the two of you, but you’re not catching a break as the remaining kitchen lights click off.

“Damn it”, he mutters under his breath. Bathing you and Bob in total darkness, you instinctively squeeze his hands and he squeezes right back.

“It’s ok”, his voice echoes as he tries to see anything around the darkened room. Sylvia whines from beneath her hiding spot as he blindly searches the coffee table for his phone, petting her in the process to calm her nerves. With his phone located, he turns the flashlight on and you wince at the harsh white light. Sylvia continues to whine even as she scurries out from under the table and runs up the stairs. He runs a hand through his hair as he stands and you’re left in his absence. Goosebumps crawling up your arms and legs force you to shiver and Bob sees it out of the corner of his eye.

“Here- you can take my bed. It’ll be way too cold down here.”

“Bob, no. I’ll crash on the couch”, his mouth opens to protest but you stop him before he even starts, “Plus, I think your daughter might need you up there.” He moves his hands to his hips, deliberating his choices until he eyes you.

“I mean- we could always, ya know…”

“What?”

“We could share my bed. It’s not like we haven’t already slept in the same bed together- Not that I’m assuming you want to! But it’ll keep you extra warm if we’re both there, and that way we’re in the same room and-” With a soft smile you cut off his rambling.

“I think that’s a great idea.” That crooked smile graces his face for the first time in what feels like forever, and your nerves are put at ease. You want to be the reason he smiles like that for as long as you’re able.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He silently leads you up the stairs and offers to let you use the bathroom first while he tries to tidy up the mess you hopefully didn’t see through the lens of your phone’s flashlight.

There’s not much, just a couple of dirty shirts he didn’t have the time or energy to throw into his laundry basket. And then there’s the laundry basket of clothes he was going to fold today, but got distracted at Rich and Harry’s. Shoving the basket in the corner of the room, his eyes catch on the rain-pattered window. Palm trees sway in the wind, and thanks to a flash of lightning, he watches the street run like a river. He squints, trying to find where you parked your car, hoping the damage won’t be too bad.

The click of the door opening has him turning to you, brows still furrowed.

“Hey, where’d you park your car?”

“Oh, that. Funny story”, you laugh, “It stopped running about a block that way-”, you point up the street, “And I kinda ran the rest of the way.” His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as you stand there chuckling.

“Mantis”, he sighs, “Why did you think any of this was a good idea?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, I just knew I had to talk to you”, you bashfully admit. A flash of lightning reflects in his glasses, and you’re brought back to your conversation downstairs. Your unfinished conversation. The hairs on your arms raise before Sylvia whines from underneath Bob’s bed.

The two of you glance back and spot her nose peeking out from under the frame. You’re on your knees, petting her head as Bob stands at the window.

“It’s ok sweet girl”, you coo. With the two of you distracted, he takes a minute to finish getting ready for bed. God, he just can’t believe you’re actually here. Granted, he wishes it was under better circumstances, but still. Stepping back into his bedroom, he’s pleased to find you already underneath the covers, your back facing him. His heart speeds up at you already so comfortable in his bed, but he gathers himself quickly before turning to close the door to the room. The bedroom the two of you are currently sharing… with his dog lying on his side of the bed.

“Before you say anything”, you rush out as you sit up, “She got up here all by herself, and I don’t have the heart to tell her to get down. So you’re just gonna have to look into those big brown eyes and be the bad guy here.” He bites down a smile as he pretends to deliberate on what he should do. Not giving in and telling you that she normally sleeps on the bed with him.

“Plus, I don’t think she’ll be as scared if she’s up here with us”, you add. With us. Yes, that word just came out of your mouth. And it might not be a big deal, but you just used that word and Bob is having a hard time not pinching himself to make sure this is all real and not another dream. Clearing his throat, he manages to cough out a “yeah”. Or something akin to agreement.

He starts to settle onto his side of the bed, and you scooch as far away from the middle as you can. Sylvia moves down the bed in between the two of you and you finally lie back on your respective pillows. You can hear his glasses hit his bedside table as his hand falls to Sylvia. There’s an unspoken tension in the room, and you’re not sure if you can wait until morning to break through it. But neither of you say anything. You just lie there like a lifeless body whose heart is also about to burst through her chest.

Another flash of lightning slices through the curtain, followed almost immediately by a horribly loud boom. Sylvia whines again and your hand falls to her. You knew his hand was there, but it doesn’t stop the shock at the feeling of your fingers brushing his. As your hand swoops over Sylvia’s fur he almost moves back as you stop. But that single touch in the dark makes you want more. So with a clear mission, you bring your hand back over her fur and start to slowly trace his knuckles and fingers. His hand turns over, inviting you to do the same to his palm before he halts your motions and instead intertwines your fingers. He’s still so much warmer than you are, and your hand melts in his. It makes you feel safe.

You don’t say anything as his thumb rubs your hand. The two of you lay in the backdrop of rain and thunder, staring at the ceiling as if it had some kind of hidden message you have to decode. Bob must find what his side says because he clears his throat before speaking.

“What you asked earlier, about what I want- I want you to be happy. Above anything else.” Your heart turns over as you face him.

“I want that for you, too… But you should know you make me really happy”, you whisper into the night. His hand flexes as his pillow rustles to your right.

“You mean that?”, his voice is clearer as he turns his head, and although you’re having a hard time seeing through the dark, you can imagine the look of fear and insecurity in his eyes.

“Of course I do.”

“Cause you make me happy, too”, he rasps, his voice somehow even deeper. And you just can’t help the way you move closer to him. Reaching with your free hand, you hold onto his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomes it with a relaxed sigh as you get comfortable. Sylvia doesn’t seem to mind being squished in between your legs, and you’re happy for the warmth these two provide you.

There’s still a lot to talk about. A lot to figure out as to what happens next, but right now? You can’t seem to care what happens tomorrow because you’re content to hold onto Bob tonight. And as you feel him kiss the top of your head, you get that deep butterfly feeling in your stomach. The good kind this time. No overwhelming urge of anxiety or doom washes over you and you know everything is going to be ok. It has to be.

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

Hey Siri, play Fearless by Taylor Swift

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