#now she doesn’t have to come in and pay

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people speculating that Gemma’s storyline will lead to a cloning reveal, which like, it’s a decent theory and wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But god, this show is so specific and detail oriented Ben Stiller himself has even said nothing in the show is a coincidence. The cloning theory has also been shut down a couple times by some producers and writes from what I understand and idk I feel like a cloning reveal would just be so boring. And honestly, I don’t know if this is insane, but I’m fully leaning towards the idea that when it comes to Ms. Casey/Gemma, it’s more of a resurrection situation.

Okay so hear me out I believe our Ms. Casey is still physically Gemma her original body, her bones, her blood she’s alive baby that’s her but like also it’s not her. It’s like in horror or fantasy stories when a character dies and comes back but comes back wrong YK?. Physically it’s still them but it’s not them. In my opinion, her brain has been completely reset, wiping away whatever kind of person she used to be.

To back this theory I’ve been heavily leaning on the interaction between Ms. Cobel and Helena in the parking lot and just the general existence of the Mammalian Nurturable department.

Now, I might be reading into this too much, but I just love these characters so much and this show so please bear with me, this is a long one.

this season Harmony/Ms. Cobel is a problem. Like there is just no way she isn’t. Lumon is already struggling to keep it together after the scandal the main four caused, and a change in management isn’t helping. People are (probably) starting to pay attention, and they do not need that kind of heat. Ms. Cobel literally crashing tf out making herself homeless and sneaking around in the dark probably isn’t helping.

Helena’s choice of words have always stood out to me. She’s calculated, smart, and precise in how she speak just like Harmony. Both of them are masters at saying exactly what they need to without ever outright saying it yk? So when she she spots Cobel in the parking lot in the middle of the night she clocks her immediately.

Harmony walks out as if she still has a job in that bitch and has the audacity to tell Helena what her needs are and exactly how they should be met. And in my opinion, Helena is appalled but not surprised. She calls her out on her behavior.

“I hear ego, hubris, and arrogance. Kier teaches us they only cause pain.”

To me, this isn’t just a read it’s a warning. Harmony doesn’t take it. She bites back, calling Helena a NEPOTISM BABY. wild.

And I mean look at Helena’s face.

So Helena lays it out for her as plainly as possible

“We didn’t have to ask you back.”

No translation even needed, she just said it flat out Baby, we don’t need you here. You do not, no matter what you think, represent us. You are not Lumon.

And Harmony, being just as cunty clocks her shit right back

“You didn’t have a choice.”

At this point, Ms. Cobel isn’t just skating on thin ice she’s walking across a frozen lake in metal combat boots, her ass skipping around as if the ice won’t break. And that’s her mistake.

Helena, after giving Harmony multiple chances to walk away. Multiple chances to come back in on lumons terms. Multiple chances to stop playing in her fucking face, finally pulls back with a kind smile and offers her a chance to “restart”.

As they walk towards the car, Ms. Cobel locks eyes with Helena’s bodyguard and the instant terror is actually insane. Full deer in headlights.

A lot of people saw that shot and took it as a straight-up Sopranos esque death threat like, if she gets in that car, she’s not gonna survive the drive (RIP Audriana). And sure, it could be as simple as that, but this show is just way too good for it to be that simple.

I think Cobel recognizes the bodyguard. She knows him and I mean like fr knows him.

I saw a theory on Reddit suggesting that the bodyguard might be someone she knew maybe a former coworker, someone from her personal life (they suggested it could’ve been someone she was super close with before she even became the woman we know today) idk just somebody she knows knows and out of nowhere suddenly, he’s here, presented as Helena’s bodyguard. But it’s not him. It’s his skin, his bones, his blood but it’s not HIM.

And the way it plays out, it doesn’t seem like the bodyguard recognizes her at least not in the same way she knows him. That stare man that stare. I didn’t even know Harmony could experience fear. Who knows, maybe in that moment she’s reflecting on everything that’s happened. She bitched out the boss’s daughter in this empty ass parking lot on the brink of a mental break down, and suddenly there’s a chance to start over. All she has to do is get in that car, with that man, talk to the higher-ups, and hit the “reset” button.

Basically my theory is that Lumon are essentially grave robbing the fuck out of that town. Taking people who have been in serious accidents car crashes, house fires, construction site falls, factory explosion, hell even a drive by. I also think they’re also taking drug addicts, the homeless people who have no loved ones looking out for them, or even looking for them at all, the ones who are confirmed to be gone in every way, physically or emotionally. They’re taking these people and giving them a full system reset rebooting the computer.

By doing this, Lumon gets to create a free labor force that works 24/7 without question or resistance, exploiting people who have no emotional ties or support systems. Blank slate baby! They’re also using these individuals as test subjects for whatever weird shit they wanna launch out as a new product.

This helps explain a lot of the weird shit going on with the employees at Mammalian Nurturable. They look so rough and are also really off-putting towards outsiders. Which is understandable but I genuinely believe they haven’t even “clocked out” in days, if not ever.

Even though this theory makes the most sense to me, It still has its plot holes like if Gemma isn’t a clone and it’s her “resurrected” where does she go when she’s not her innie. In Season 1, she tells Mark she’s only conscious as her innie for a couple of minutes at a time, and the longest she’s ever stayed “alive” was the 8 hours she spent with his department. So where tf is she if not there as Ms Casey i don’t know man I do not know.

Anyways I have some other general curiosities about the town itself and why Lumon decided to build their main building there. I saw a TikTok video of someone saying it reminded them of company-built towns like Hershey Pennsylvania or Kodak Town, and I agree. Anywho I love this show so much it hurts I hope it never dies I literally missed having an obsession this intense I hope it gets all the love and awards it deserves!!

[moonandst4rs]

“She’s always a woman to me”

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Masterlist

AARON HOTCHNER X F!READER

WC: 673

Summary: Aaron sees you for you. He sees the woman behind the job

Warnings / Content: Inspired by She's always a woman - Billy Joel. no use of y/n, no dialogue

A/N: Feel free to ask questions or simply chat. Any feedback and requests are welcome !! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

Being a woman is hard. Being a woman in power, working as a Section Chief in the FBI only magnifies the weight you carry. It isn’t just the job, it’s about navigating Bureaucratic nonsense. You have to balance authority with expectations, from yourself and others. Five teams. Five different teams of personalities, skills and egos yjay you have to manage day in and day out. Some are polite and show you respect—others, not so much. Aaron Hotchner’s team, to their credit, are professional. Mostly.

You’ve grown tough over the years. You had to. The world doesn’t let women in your position be soft without paying the price. If you’d let yourself be trampled, ignored, or undermined even once, you wouldn’t be here now, standing tall as Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The toughness, it isn’t armour, it’s more like something you’ve learned to carry with grace. You got here by knowing exactly when to hold your ground and when to bend, ever so slightly, so the world doesn’t break you. From a wide-eyed field agent to Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, you’ve learned that balance. And you’ve learned how to carry the weight of other people’s lives along the way.

You do your job well. You’re proud of that. You make decisions not just for today, but for the future, for the safety of your agents, your teams. You’re steady, calm under pressure, always managing to keep the pieces from falling apart. You have to. But not everyone sees it that way. For some, you’ll always be the one in the way, the one enforcing rules they don’t want to follow. They call you harsh, cold, rigid. They talk about how you won’t let them work however they want. They forget there’s a reason the rules are there, a reason you stand so firm.

The names they call you, the insults, the accusations, they don’t hurt like they used to. There was a time when you’d lie awake at night, wondering if they were right. Now, you barely blink when they throw words your way. If anything, you’ve become somewhat detached, wishing, in a darkly amused way, that they would at least get creative. Give you something new to roll your eyes at. You’ve heard it all before. The same tired jabs, the same predictable bitterness. They don’t know how strong you really are, and they never will. Not the way Aaron does.

Aaron. He’s always there, quietly watching. He knows you can take it, he knows you’ve taken far worse, and that you’ll keep taking it because you refuse to let them see you falter. But even so, he insisted stepping in. Not always, and not in ways that make a scene, but it was enough. Enough to remind you that you don’t have to fight every battle alone. He challenges the ones who disrespect you when you’re not looking, stands by you when the weight of the world starts to feel a little too heavy. And even though you never asked for his protection, you’ve come to realize it’s something more. Something softer, something that breaks through the noise and makes you feel…seen.

You never wanted anyone to fight for you. You don’t need it. You’ve spent your life proving that you’re more than capable of fighting for yourself. But Aaron doesn’t fight to save you; he fights to remind you that you’re worth protecting. And in those moments, when his quiet strength meets yours, you realize just how much that means to you. More than you’d ever let on.

Despite everything, the long nights, the endless pushback, the harsh words, you keep going. Not because you’re unbreakable, but because you know what’s at stake. You fight for your teams because they deserve it. You stand firm because that’s who you are, and because you believe in the work you do, even when others don’t see it. And maybe, just maybe, because you know that there’s someone, someone like Aaron, who sees the woman behind the title.

[quarterlifekitty]

wifey here again with stepdad!Nik, so I think SD would insist on finishing college since she only has like a year left anyway and because she feels like she'll be able to get a job easier with a degree, she doesn't wanna be a burden. Nikolai ofc lets her finish college, it keeps her busy while at home, settling in nicely to their house. He takes care of her every need, and slowly starts to convince her that she doesn't owe him anything, she's his wife now, or soon to be at the very least. All she needs to do is stay home and worry about their little one. Anytime she has doubts about how much he wants her and wants to provide for her she gets reminded thoroughly. It's when SD's bump is getting noticeable that Nik really steps it up. "What if we both miss the important moments?" and SD eventually is like "yeah, okay, but if it ever becomes a burden I'll get a job" and Nik is real proud of himself. SD also becomes very needy, in just the way Nik loves, she wants to be with him as much as possible and needs help a lot because hormones are fucking with her. And she definitely thanks him plenty for his help whenever she can. Bonus NikPrice x SD reader John decides to visit Nik and his new bird since on their last mission Nikolai wouldn't shut up about her and he immediately gets why when he sees SD, she's so sweet and nurturing and she looks gorgeous all round with Nik's kid, stays a few nights and gets drunk one night and jokingly (sorta) tells Nik he'd love to put the next one in her and Nikolai just hums with a smile "why not?" and reader is suddenly being flirted with by her fiance/husband's friend. Is real worried about it cause she likes it and guility goes to Nik who is 1. Very pleased by her honesty and 2. reassures her and tells her that he's okay with it if she is. (Totally wasn't his plan to get his two favorite people together so he could have them both, nope, that's totally not why he raved about her to John and not one other soul. Mmhm)

Also im really sorry if once again this doesn't make sense, stress has got me by a chokehold lately and its making my brain bad lol

Ooooooh wifey you are killing me. Isn’t that the perfect solution, though? You’re so worried about being a burden, let’s bring in another source of income!!

You know. Maybe it’s kinda degrading. But I totally imagine Nik comes up with little tasks for her. Let’s be real, it’s so easy— he saw what her mother was like, he can see how starved she is for approval, it practically blinds her. Things like “I want us to get a new car with some more space before the baby comes— can you research what models are best for family? You have a better mind for things like that than me,” he says with an almost sheepish smile. You’re practically wagging your tail with excitement— and you just look so happy when you present all of your work and he seems so pleased with you.

Also, in a bit of darker move, I can imagine if you’re not as into John as all that— they come up with a story. They say that John wants to have a baby of his own, but he’s not married, and he wants to have a kid before he’s too old and his career gets in the way of romance. So he would love for you to be like a surrogate for him. You’ve done so well with this first pregnancy, and you’re still so young— plus! John would be willing to pay, so it’d be like you’ve got your own income to help out!

The only thing is that John believes in natural conception. And he wants to live with you both during the pregnancy to help out. And he doesn’t actually plan on leaving once you have his kid. And Nik knows how sensitive and caring you are— when you confess to him your doubts about giving the baby up for good once it’s born, he comforts you. Of course he’ll talk to John about it, milaya, he’s sure they can come to an agreement.

[audliminal]

Survivability Bias Pt 7

Masterpost - Ao3

Danny’s on his morning run when he notices the buzzing in his pocket. He stops short, stepping off to the side of the path, so he’s not in anyone’s way. It’s odd, having a phone again. He’s long since buried his old phone in his backpack. It died weeks ago, and he doesn’t really see any point in trying to charge it, when it can’t fulfill it’s primary purpose. The new phone from Robin is clearly far more advanced. It’s weird, having to use a touch screen, and Danny really hasn’t fiddled with it much. He doesn’t really know who’s paying for the service, but he’d rather not test their patience with accidental charges. So he’s only messaged Robin, and only to respond, on the few occasions Robin has had follow-up questions. Now, he pulls the phone out of his pocket, wondering what Robin needs, but instead of a contact name, the text notification lists a number. 

Someone else is trying to call him.

Danny stares at the notification, fear condensing in the fathomless pit of his stomach. He’d known the phone was a risk when Robin had handed it to him. Had understood from the start that it was also a tool to track Danny. But there had been no reasonable way out of it; if Robin was going to make Danny exist, then he had to be able to contact him, for questions, or to let him know when his ID was ready. Sure, Superboy can listen for Danny’s voice, but he can’t exactly message Danny back without coming to meet him, and Robin undoubtedly doesn’t want to have to go through Superboy to talk to him anyways. So he’d accepted the phone, and he’d been careful not to go anywhere weird. 

What Danny hadn’t considered, is the notion that Robin might give the number to others. Or, worse, that others might be able to find it (a trail is a trail is a trail). Now, here’s the clear evidence otherwise. Alarms flare in Danny’s head as he reconsiders, counting all the ways in which this whole thing was a terrible idea. He doesn’t have friends to help him here. He doesn’t even have Vlad to fall back on. Anonymity was quite literally his only protection and he threw that away for, what, the chance that he might be able to go to space camp?

Something touches his arm, and Danny leaps back, weight falling onto his back foot and arms coming up as he glares at the person in front of him. But when he pauses to process, the only person in front of him is an old lady who he’s seen around plenty of times before. Great. This is a public space, and there’s other people here, and he just acted like he was gonna fight an old lady.

“I’m so sorry!” Danny exclaims, snapping his arms down. “I just-” Danny fumbles for a moment, trying to think of an explanation that doesn’t sound like an excuse.

“Oh, there is absolutely nothing to apologize for, dear.” The lady says with a smile, even as she takes a half step back. “I touched you without warning; your response to that is your own. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh...” Danny says. “Okay?” He frowns, trying to remember if he stumbled or something before he stopped. 

“Well, you looked at your phone and I thought you looked upset. So when you didn’t move after a minute, I thought you might have... well, I’ve seen that kind of reaction before, and it tends to not mean anything good.”

“Oh, that’s, um. That’s very nice of you.”

“Nothing of it dear! Now, I don’t want to pry into your business, but if you need an ear, or a hug, or just someone to sit with you for a moment...” She trails off. Danny blinks, and glances back at his phone.

“Um, I think- it’s fine. I probably need to go deal with this, but it’s nothing worth worrying about.” He plasters his best smile on as he says the last bit, and resolutely ignores the way her frown only deepens. “But I really appreciate the offer! I mean, really!” Danny takes one, then two steps back, then turns towards the entrance to the park, and sets off at a jog, calculating in his head.

It’s been about five minutes since his phone buzzed. Nothing’s happened yet, which means whatever situation probably isn’t hostile yet, so Danny presumably has some amount of time. And the first priority has to be keeping this poor town out of it, so the first thing he needs to do is get out of the town.

Luckily, Danny’s had a map of the best transformation spots building in his head since day one, so it’s a simple matter of running to the closest one, shifting, and then taking off under the cover of his invisibility. Once he gets some height, he starts scanning his surroundings for any odd activity, but everything in the town seems normal, so Danny refocuses, looking instead for a safe spot to deal with...whoever is after him now.

Five minutes later, Danny drops down onto an empty, overgrown lot, well away from anyone. The second his feet hit the ground, he looks down at the phone still in his hand. The unknown number is still there, staring him down from the notification screen. Danny takes a deep breath, and he swipes the phone open and begins to read.

Hey! I talked Robin into giving me your number so we could chat more easily! (it’s Superboy in case that isn’t clear)

Danny stares at the message, the dread in his stomach promptly evaporating, until all that’s left is a dense little nugget of embarrassment. Superboy. Who Danny knows and has talked to, and had been very friendly, and absolutely would have asked his friend Robin for Danny’s number. Because they’re at least sort-of-friends and that’s what friends do. They share their phone numbers and then send each other messages. And Danny reacted to a stupid message by panicking and fleeing the entire town like his phone was a bomb that he had to defuse in a desolate-ass field across from a shitty abandoned truck stop along an equally abandoned highway.

At least Superboy’s not here to see Danny look like a loser.

Hey! He quickly writes back. That’s a great idea, I’ll add you to my contacts :D

Danny hits send, then immediately takes off, heading back towards town. Maybe if he’s quick enough, nobody will catch that he left.

It’s kind of funny, in a way. Like, yeah Superboy had been acting friendly towards him from the beginning, but he hadn’t really thought about the other boy as being a potential friend or anything. There’s a part of him that feels guilty about it - that aches with the thought that he could be sending Superboy all the messages he would have sent to Sam and Tucker. He knows they’d call him an idiot if they could hear those thoughts, but the uncomfortable feeling doesn’t seem overly concerned with Danny’s attempts at rational thought.

He wishes they had come with him, even as he knows how unfair it would’ve been to ask. Their bond may be strong as hell (turns out half-dying in front of your friends makes for an unbreakable friendship), but his friends have families that love and care about them. Meanwhile, Danny’s family had always been a catastrophic mess. He’d always tried not to let himself think about it, but here in a different dimension, it’s easy to admit to himself how much it hurt to have his parents not realize he’d died.

They’d never even questioned it, not sought out a single further answer as to how the portal suddenly started working. Danny had spent weeks, falling through furniture and randomly going invisible, had suddenly started being targeted by their shitty home defense systems, and they’d never fucking noticed, because they’d been too excited that their beloved portal was finally working and now they could dig into their obsession all the more.

In retrospect, they should have realized Danny’s parents were ecto-contaminated far sooner. Even Box Ghost wasn’t that much of a freak for boxes.

“It’s fucking dumb,” Danny mutters, dropping down into an alley and transforming. “Fucking dead, and it’s a relief that they didn’t notice, because if my parents noticed anything about me, they’d only make my life fucking worse!” He punctuates the statement by kicking a half-crushed can as hard as he can, sending it flying directly at the wall. The clang echoes in the tight little alleyway, and again as it clatters to a stop a few feet away. He stands there, staring at the can for a moment, thinking about just letting himself cry. He imagines what would happen if he just collapsed onto the ground and started sobbing and never got up. It’s not like he has any responsibilities to get to, after all. Or, if he wanted, he could march back to the park and tell that nice lady that he’s not fine, and demand that hug she’d offered him. He’d feel dumb as hell, and it wouldn’t actually change anything, but he could.

He stoops down to pick up the can. Sam would want him to go recycle it. Superboy responds to his text with a goofy midair selfie.

* * *

Danny does not want to be doing math right now, so when his phone buzzes, he jumps at the opportunity to do literally anything else. Danny’s determined to do well in school this time around, and he’s willing to work for it, but trying to review and relearn everything  he should have over the last couple years sucks. Luckily he’s found some useful resources that he can refer back to when he inevitably discovers something else he should have learned, but preparedness is definitely better than playing catch-up. He’s only going to have two years worth of  high school grades, so each class is worth a lot more. Thinking about that, Danny kind of gets why Robin had offered to falsify his grades. He could only imagine how Jazz would’ve felt if her perfect GPA had been erased in Junior year.

But to Danny, the clean slate is already a boon. He’d quite literally scraped his way out of summer school by half of a percent this last year, and even though Junior Year had barely been underway when he’d fled, his grades had already been beyond recovery. And with no ghost attacks to contend with, Danny’s determined to prove he can get to college of his own accord.

Guess what! :D The message from Superboy says, when he opens it. It’s accompanied by a selfie, though it’s not taken in any of the rooms Danny’s seen in the many photos Superboy’s sent him.

Titan Tower’s been demolished and you’re all staying in Robin’s place for a week? Danny sends back immediately. He hopes that’s not actually the case, but Superboy’s always delighted whenever Danny sends him a snarky response, so he swallows the needle of anxiety. They’ve been texting for less than a week, but in that time, Superboy’s sent Danny dozens and dozens of messages. Solidly half of them are just random selfies, and the number that appear to be from inside their hero base has got to be some kind of a security problem, but Danny’s not about to challenge Superboy on it. It’s too reassuring, seeing the headquarters the teen heroes work from. Every selfie reveals more of the comfortable, spacious, and well-equipped base, and with every reveal, Danny feels a little more certain that they really aren’t being exploited.

Nope, comes the response. Then, a moment later, I’m at your new home! This is accompanied by another selfie, this one with an absolutely gorgeous framed print of the pillars of creation in the background. Danny straightens in his seat, as he stares at the message. He’d given Robin carte blanche when it came to furnishing his apartment. At the time  of their conversation, he’d been overwhelmed and didn’t want to think about anything like furniture, but now that he’s had time to think he’s been feeling a little regret about it. Danny’s used to living with stuff that other people have picked out, and the idea of having control over his furniture actually does seem like it could be cool. Still, he hadn’t felt strongly enough to say anything, afraid to risk disrupting whatever work Robin had already done. Besides, he’d assumed Robin would just give him the are minimum, and he could add stuff later, when he finally had the money.

Danny’s caught between desperate gratitude and guilt. The print in the photo is beautiful, and exactly the kind of thing Danny might have chosen, but he also knows how much quality prints like that cost. He hadn’t thought about it before, but furniture has got to be expensive too, even if it’s just the bare minimum. 

You still there, dude? Another text comes in and Danny moves to reply with shaking hands.

How much money are you guys spending on me?

The response isn’t immediate. Danny tries not to panic, but he can tell he’s going to fail. Instead, he shoves his stuff into his backpack as quickly as he can, holding his breath, because he absolutely can’t be trusted to stay quiet right now. He’s walking out the door to the library, when his phone finally buzzes again.

Okay so I sort of had to ask Robin why you would be worried about that, so like, sorry for the delay. There’s like a lot of gaps in my social knowledge? And I’ve never really had any control over what ppl do or don’t give me, so like. I didn’t realize that would upset you and I’m sorry? But also Robin literally said “not much, only a couple thousand” which is to say that I’m pretty sure he’s actually super rich and furnishing a home is literally peanuts to him.

Danny reads it, and then he reads it again, forcing himself to take deep breaths as he moves out of the doorway. Once he’s well away from anyone’s walking path, he lets himself collapse against the wall, sliding down until he’s curled up against the corner of the ground and wall.

It’s fine.

It’s gotta be fine. There is literally nothing in either of their behavior that has seemed even remotely cruel, and if Danny’s reading between the lines right, then Robin does this sort of thing to other people too, so it’s not even remotely about Danny. He doesn’t feel good about it, but logically it isn’t the level of problem that Danny is worried about. Danny can deal with the gross feelings. He can’t afford to do anything else, really.

After all, how the hell was gonna buy a bed? He has less than a hundred dollars to his name. Maybe he could afford it if he sold off the jewelry, but he absolutely couldn’t furnish a whole apartment. Besides, he literally asked for this. If he’s too stupid to realize the implications of asking for his apartment to be furnished, then that’s fully on him.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, half on instinct, but really, what is ignoring Superboy going to accomplish?

Are you good? Do I need to find you? I haven’t gotten the hang of tracking heartbeats like Superman, but I can try? I like being your friend, please don’t let me fuck this up

Danny starts typing out a response. Deletes it. Tries again. He tries to lie and say he feels fine, but it just reminds him of the old lady’s expression the other day, and how she’d seemed more upset when he tried to brush his problems off. He takes another deep breath and tries to remember Jazz. They’d mostly avoided talking about Vlad. The whole thing was just so shitty and neither of them had the power to actually do anything, so they’d mostly pretended he didn’t exist, and Danny had done his best to play off the worst of his behavior. There had been one time, though. When Jazz had come home, upset about some conflict with a friend, and she had turned on him about it, lecturing him about boundaries and how important it is to tell people if you feel uncomfortable. She hadn’t explicitly said Vlad’s name but, well, who else could she have been talking about? So Danny forcibly gulps air down, and he tries to explain.

I’m not mad at you? Danny writes. I just - have a history with, like, gifts, and the idea of anyone spending much money on me makes me feel gross. Like in a ‘how is this gonna be held over me’ sort of way, y’know? He has to back up and rephrase a couple times, but eventually he feels like his response makes sense, so he hits send.

Crisis somewhat quelled, Danny gulps down another breath, and pushes himself back to his feet. There’s a mom nearby staring at him, though her kid seems focused on the book in their hands, so he mutters sorry, and starts heading down the street. 

Oh. Yeah, I think I get that. Superboy’s response is quicker this time. Can I, like, tell that to Robin? He might have an idea of how to make it not-a-gift?

Sure, Danny responds. I think I’m gonna go for a run, so if I don’t respond, don’t stress out.

* * *

When Danny finishes his run, he’s got a picture from Superboy of an absolutely adorable dog, and one single message from Robin that reads Don’t worry. Meet us at Emery Park at 5. We can discuss the logistics of it then. Robin’s absolutely tragic reassurance doesn’t really make him feel better, but it is sort of amusingly Robin-like, so at least there’s that. Danny has no intentions of trying to study now though, so instead he just wanders the park for a while, before slipping off to transform. When he comes back in his ghost form, he feels incredibly conspicuous and pretty much everyone seems to notice him. Mostly they just smile and nod in his direction, but one person actually comes up to him.

“Hey, uh. My sister was one of the people you saved last month, so like, thank you. She means a lot to me, and I don’t know what I would have done if she’d-” They cut themselves off with a choked noise, and they absolutely look like they’re about to start crying. Danny gets it; he knows full well what happened in the world where something happened to his sister, but he also has no idea how to reassure them.

“I’m very glad I was able to help,” Danny tries. “Um, how is your sister?” Good, that’s how to be empathetic, right?

“Ah, well you know. The smoke inhalation had her laid up for a bit, but honestly I think she was more upset about losing her home, you know? But she’s staying with me for now, so we’ll figure things out.”

“That’s good,” Danny nods. They’re not wrong; losing your home sucks. But this random person absolutely does not need to be subjected to Danny’s long list of misfortune. Luckily they take their leave after that, though whether it’s a result of Danny’s expression or their own emotions, he’s not sure.

Nobody else approaches him in the time it takes for Superboy to flip over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Superboy says, grinning as he lands in front of Danny. “Whatchu been up to?”

“Not much,” Danny says. “It’s really not been a productive day.”

“Shit, sorry.” Superboy winces.

“Nah, even before that, I was trying to review math, so like. Focus has been majorly my enemy, you know?”

“Ready to start school, then?” Robin asks from where he’s walked up to stand by Danny.

“Eh, probably not ever gonna be, so it might as well happen.”

“Right, well everything is ready, so if you’d like to adjourn to the apartment to discuss specifics?” Danny nods, and follows as they head off again.

Instead of walking, Robin pulls out a literal zip-line, and they quite literally take to the rooftops, all the way to a nice-looking brick building, not far from the center of town. Danny would wager that it’s within a ten minute walk of the library and the nearest grocery store, which is pretty sweet. Danny can even see little balconies along the front, as they approach which is pretty cool. so he might even get a view. Instead of heading to the front of the building, Robin drops down to street level, and Danny finds himself in a little parking garage when he follows.

“We’re less likely to get spotted this way,” Robin explains as he walks through the parking lot. “I’ll erase the security footage of us, but the less people know we came here, the safer your identity is.”

“Makes sense,” Danny says. “I can, um, make you guys invisible, but I’d have to be touching you to do it.”

“By all means.” Robin says, staring Danny down.

“Cool, um,” Danny glances over at Superboy, who nods, so he reaches out to grip their wrists carefully, and lets his invisibility wash over all three of them. He lets Robin lead them through the door, and up three flights of stairs. He stops in front of a door labelled 305, and a moment later, the door is open and the three of them are stepping inside. Danny drops his grip on them as the door closes, taking in the room around him.

Danny’s half-formulated fear of some fancy, swagged-out apartment that constantly reminds him of Robin’s generosity seems ridiculous in the face of the cozy, simply appointed living space in front of him. Instead of a table, there’s a small bar area built into the kitchen with a couple of comfortable-looking stools, and the couch in the living room looks comfortably worn, so Robin must have gotten it secondhand. The decorations aren’t extravagant either. The framed print Danny had seen earlier sits proudly on the wall behind the couch, but aside from that there’s only a couple minor decorations, and a lamp.

He turns to look back at Robin, who immediately steps forward and holds up a key ring.

“This key gets you into the building, this one is to your apartment, and this one is to your mailbox. There’s also a bike room in the parking garage we walked through. That’s what this last key is for, though I would advise still using a bike lock if you decide to get one.” He holds it out, after he finishes, and Danny nods, trying to commit each key to memory. After a moment, Robin continues.

“Your lease is in the folder on the counter, along with your personal documentation and a couple other things. As far as the funding of this is concerned, I took the slight liberty of forward-funding this with your theoretical payout for the assistance you provided during the train crash last month. So, if and when you decide to legally declare your hero identity, I’ll back-file the paperwork for that.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He looks around the room again, and then back at Robin. The internet had been entirely unclear if Robin had any powers, but Danny’s decided he’s got to be psychic. There’s no other way he could have planned this all out so perfectly. “Okay, that’s, um. That definitely works for me. Thank you so much.”

“You’ve gotta see your bedroom, though!” Superboy explains, grabbing Danny’s hand and pulling him down the hallway, and through the last door.

The bedroom that greets him is similarly balanced as the living area. The comforter alone makes Danny pause. As long as he can remember, he’d always secretly wanted a space-themed comforter, but he’d only ever seen the goofy ones made for little kids, but this comforter is decorated with an absolutely gorgeous cover; the star-spattered blue-black of outer space giving way at the bottom edge to a view of the earth itself, atmosphere pale against the onslaught of space. It’s gorgeous, and doesn’t make Danny feel childish at all. The wall behind the headboard is similarly impressive, with what has to be a composite print of high quality images of every major body in the galaxy, from the sun itself to the dwarf planet Pluto (Danny hadn’t been certain how to feel about that particular difference in classification when he’d first arrived, but he’s come around to it by now).

“Do you like it?” Superboy asks.

“It’s amazing,” Danny says. Stepping forward and falling onto his new bed. “I actually can’t believe this is all mine.”

“Your name’s the one on the lease,” Robin says. “Although please do let me know if you have a hard time making payments. I’m more than happy to assist, and if you need to make it a loan to feel comfortable, we work that out.”

“Yeah, okay.” Danny says, looking around the space again. He feels a lot less anxious just being in this space. Vlad would never have done anything like this. If he’d ever been inclined to get Danny an apartment, there would have been reminders of him everywhere. It’s not even like the kind of unwanted stuff Sam would throw at him and Tucker. This whole apartment really feels like it’s meant to be his.

“There’s also the beginnings of a wardrobe in the closet. Not much since I wasn’t certain of style preferences, but a few basics and a couple nice shirts for any job interviews and the like.”

“Oh,” Danny says. He really should think of better responses to what Robin says, but he keeps saying things Danny hadn’t even considered.

“Similarly, there’s some food essentials in the kitchen. We can always take anything you dislike to a food bank.” Robin continues, unhindered. “And the secondary bedroom is currently set up to be an office. Since you’re doing the school from home option, I decided it was worthwhile to set up a separate space for you to do that from. Separating work and relaxation spaces can go a long way to not going insane.”

“Oh.” Danny feels like a broken record.

“Furthermore, to head off any concerns, the laptop is one of my old ones that was sitting unused in storage. The planner, however, is new, and it is a gift.” Robin says, his mouth turning up into a slight smile. Keeping track of what you have to do is the most difficult part of online school, and the planner should help with that. Just don’t get caught up in trying to use it the right way. Whatever works best for you is the correct way.”

“Damn dude,” Superboy says, staring at his friend. “How are you gonna go and make school sound like it’s kinda fun?”

“If you’re interested, I could get you signed up as well.” Robin’s response comes immediately. 

“We should order pizza,” Danny says, flopping onto the couch. “Gotta hang out now before I get too busy with school.”

[spurbleu]

where the aster grows

ch.1 bookmarks neighbor!price x fem florist!reader

The sky wears blue to your grandmother’s funeral

Memories of yesterday’s rain remain as dew on the grass shards of the cemetery, but the sky gives nothing away. Robin egg belly, sun peaks from behind thinning clouds, and the crisp air denies downpour.

There’s plenty of irony, here. Every fiction iteration of death leads you to believe that nature cries with you, feeding the oceans and the dirt she returns to. And by all accounts of your Ma, who at the ripe age of 87 still jumped in puddles, rain had restorative properties. What about your grief had convinced nature not to join?

Perhaps you had enough for the both of you.

Your father graciously accepts the condolences as people file out into the parking lot. Even from where you stand, you can see the mulberry beneath his eyes, paling ears. At a certain age you forgot his fragility. Found it again as you drove him home after the last visit, offering the tissues in the front compartment. It was the first time you’d seen him cry. You’re nearly 35.

He joins you by the fresh grave once everyone had left. Her coffin is closed, and you think that’s for the best. The morbid curiosity died a long time ago. He doesn’t look at you, and you struggle with your words. You eventually settled with,

“Wanna get dinner? On me.”

His response starts with a sigh. When he faces you, you wish you were five again, when you didn’t recognize misery when it meets your eyes.

“Yeah.”

The hostess gave you a look. It falls somewhere between questioning the formal (albeit bleak) clothes you woreto their hole in the wall diner, or figuring out the relationship between you and man across from you.

The reality is it was a seven-minute walk from the cemetery, and was the cheapest place in the area.

As for your father, he looks young  for having a middle-aged daughter. You were a college baby. Your mom didn’t want the responsibility, but your father lacked the iron fist to change his mind on raising you alone. You’ve seen how guilt stamps itself to the print of his loafers for the trivial mistakes. Your absence would eat him alive.

You chew your noodles in a practiced silence. It comes as a surprise to you when your father is the one to break it.

“Your grandma was still working when she died.”

You pause mid-bite. “The…she still kept the old thing?”

Your Ma, after her retirement and just before your grandfather’s too-early departure to the grave, bought a floral shop. You’d visit them for weeks, sharing their flat in Liverpool and helping around the shop while your father worked. Once Pops passed, Ma offered you a paid position as an assistant. You took the job without the salary.

However, when you went to college, you had to quit. She understood- but said she couldn’t hire someone outside of the family. “Wouldn’t feel right”. You had assumed the shop dwindled with her age, and that it had been lost to time and some expensive construction project. But…

Your father laughs. “You’d be surprised. That ‘old thing’ kept a handful of cliental. Still running now.”

You stutter. The image of your grandmother, arthritis bows and yellowing teeth, giving flowers to a sweaty teen in February makes your eyes water. You take another bite to swallow the feeling.

“She never lost her charm, did she.”

He shook his head. He took out a folded piece of apple slice paper, and under the dim lights of the restaurant you see her cursive in browning ink.  

You look at him over your water glass. He confirms your hunch when he purposely avoids your eyes.

“Dad I can’t-“

He slides the letter to you. “I know. It’s up to you. but you wouldn’t inherit any debt. She owned the property. It comes with her old house, above it. And…”

He doesn’t say you’re jobless, but you hear it anyway. With your recent ‘let go’, you needed something to pay the bills if you wanted a roof over your head. The English major has really only brought you to libraries and we appreciate your application but emails. Your sigh makes your chest cave.

“I’ll think about it.”

The misery in his eyes is replaced by hope. You wish you hadn’t put it there.

“Great.”

The letter wilts on your desk for three days. You procrastinate opening it- not because you haven’t come to an answer, but because it’s the last remaining piece of Ma you have. It would be like unwrapping a limited-edition action figure or leaving an antique on the edge of the table.

You risk losing what made it so special to begin with. The choice to give an object mortality or permanence.

Your hands shake when you peel the stamp.

Missy,

When you read this, I will have finally kicked the bucket. Pops had always been the patient one, between the two of us, but I think he’s waited long enough.

I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. But the shop and house are yours when I’m gone, if you choose to have it. It’d kill your father, if I gave it to him. Don’t think he knows how to feed the flowers, and I can’t have them all dying on me. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. Think it’d just make him miss me, too. I gave birth to such a sap.

Keep him steady for me, will you? You’ll be just fine, I know it. I swear you were born with two green thumbs- if anyone knows how to keep my petunias, it’s you. And if you don’t take the shop, I want you to sell it. Your father has a notoriously bad sense of character.

Love you heaps and heaps and a pebble more,

You better miss me,

Ma.

You’re weeping when you text your dad for the key and address.

Although it is cliché, walking into the store feels like you never left.

citrus oil. tepid rain. chipping paint.

The store architecture is a family secret.

The room was vacant of the crowded charm that drips from green grape wallpaper before it met your grandfather. leather glove labor remains in the medullary rays of the oak that dresses the shop in various shelves, tables and chairs. The centerpiece, an island with base cabinets, is engraved with small familial symbols- some that you recognize- others older than you are.

But it’s not just your grandfather that breathes in the construction of the store.

Your grandmother was a talented ceramist. Being a florist, pots were her specialty. You find many of them in corners and nests on the floor, warm as they were out the kiln, analeptic in gauzes painted off-white and copper. They hold her other children, fiddle leaf figs and dracaenas, next to smaller pots of her florals, dwarfed by their greener counterparts.

But none of these things are known by someone who isn’t you, which is perhaps why it was so important you inherit it. The secret dies the minute its sold.  

The only anomaly is the cat.

Calico sleeps where you’d draw as a child. Nuzzles the lace curtains that haven’t been opened since Ma passed. Looks at you with eyes that convince you animals can miss someone.

You kneel with an outstretched hand, after setting your stuff down. She sits and watches you from afar.

“She’s not here.” You scold yourself for talking to a cat, but when she dips her head to the side you feel strangely understood.

“I miss her too.”

She rolls over, exposing her belly in what you can only assume to be an offering of vulnerability. You run your hand through the burs of her stomach, and when she starts purring the fondness your grandmother must’ve had for her balms your palm and the pit of your stomach.

Everything aches as you sit with applesauce legs on the cool tiles of the main room. It feels weird to call it yours- so you decide to share it with the cat.

“Do you want to run the shop with me?” She rolls over and nuzzles your knee. The corners of your mouth twitch.

Everything lulls. Ataraxia unravels from the spines of the walls. The sun sets over the sills, and the world seems to fold into you, the cat, and the space you’re still learning how to breathe in.

And then the door begins to rattle.

You think it’s a figment- until it rattles again, this time more aggressively.

You’re on your feet in two seconds flat, and the cat scampers to a corner. You see the flickering outline of a wide, tall figure from behind the lace shudders of the door. Your heart leaps to your throat.

In the ten seconds you have before the shadow enters the shop, your franticness focuses on a blue watering can on the shelf. The toolbox with the more intimidating and likely effective weapons sits across the room on a desk, which you do not have time to reach. At least this might keep the perpetrator distracted until you grab them.

The door rattles again, this time it whines at the hinges.

You brace your arm for the throw of your life.

The next few seconds register as a blur. You launch the watering can the minute the door opens, you hear a startled grunt, and you scamper to the toolbox across the room. You pull out a small shovel, aim at the door, until you notice that his eyes seem to be just as startled as yours.

He raises his hands forward in surrender, and your arm falters.

“Who the hell are you.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Would It Be Weird?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After a night of drinking, you and your friends stumble across a fire station crawling with firemen. One of them catches your eye, and your friends try their damnest to get you two together. It’s been a long time for you but maybe Dean Winchester will change all of that.

Square Filled: stranger au (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

“Bartender! One more round!” your best friend, Shelly, calls out.

Despite being busy for the night, the bartender refills more shot glasses and hands them over one by one. After the week you just had, you deserve to have a night out for celebrations. Hard work pays off, and your boss promoted you to a manager with a significant pay raise, and Shelly just got engaged. That is enough to call for a celebratory night out with friends.

“So, have you decided on a maid of honor?” you ask Shelly when she returns to the table.

“You, of course. Better do a good job or else I’m asking my sister to do it.”

“Hey, don’t insult me. You know I love planning a good party,” you grin.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married! This is so surreal! Janice, when is Parker going to ask you to marry him? You’ve been together, what, six years?”

“We’re taking it slow. We don’t mind,” she shrugs. “Don’t come at me without coming after Tina. The other day, I caught her and Ben doing it on the kitchen counter.”

“Tina!” you gasp with a smile.

“I can’t help it. We’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“You got married three years ago.”

“No kids make the honeymoon phase last forever,” she laughs.

“So we’re all in relationships except for Y/N,” Shelly smirks. “When are you going to let a man ruffle those perfect feathers?”

“Shelly,” you grit out.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the only one out of us who isn’t in a relationship. You’ve been single for half a decade now.”

It’s true. The last relationship you were in just didn’t do it for you. You stayed with him for three years because you thought that’s what you were supposed to be doing. He wasn’t anything special. He didn’t make your heart race. He didn't make your skin hot and clammy. He didn’t make you weak in the knees. But being with him was better than being alone.

You know better now. Being single doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. You have a wonderful job, loving parents, funny siblings, and wonderful friends. You like being single, but there are times when you wonder if there is more for you out there than meaningless sex and hookups.

“Despite what you might think, I’m happy where I am.”

“Nope, don’t accept it. We’re going to set you up tonight. Girls, do you see potential matches?”

“Come on, don’t do this,” you sigh.

Your friends chatter amongst themselves as they seek out potential matches for you while you sit there like a bum on a log. You can’t be too mad at them. They want to see you happy. Plus, they might actually find your next love. Despite their best efforts, they don’t find anyone worth your time, but you do get free drinks by flirting with men.

By two in the morning, you and your friends stumble out of the bar in laughter. Your home is a few blocks away so you’re okay with walking back to your place even though you drove there.

“We’ll come back for my car tomorrow. Right now, all I want is pizza. I have some in my freezer,” you say.

You’re not so drunk that you can’t walk straight or you’re slurring your words but you are drunk enough not to be able to drive. Your friends, on the other hand, are more far gone than you are. Shelly is a giggle drunk, Tina is a loud drunk, and Janice is a sexual drunk. You’re a mom drunk, always trying to take care of those around you. It’s why you’re less drunk than they are. Someone has to be the responsible one.

“Let’s stop there!” Tina gasps loudly.

She points to a firehouse that has the garage doors open to let in the cool night are. Inside are about half a dozen firemen, all with big muscles and tight clothing. Your friends are already walking over to the station with you trailing behind.

“Hey, ladies. What are you doing out here at two in the morning?” one of the men asks.

“The bar just closed and we’re not done with our party,” Shelly grins. “We go every Friday night.”

“Why aren’t the firefighters in my distract as hot as you guys are?” Janice giggles.

You step into the station and immediately become sober when you lock eyes with forest green eyes. All the air is knocked out of your lungs, your body becomes warm with tingles, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shelly notices the look in your eyes and nudges Janice with a smirk.

“I’m Dean,” Green Eyes says.

“Y/N,” you smile back.

“What’s the party for, ladies?”

“I just got engaged,” Shelly grins and shows off her ring to them. “Y/N just got a promotion.”

“What for?” Dean asks.

“To be a manager. It’s more money and I’m in charge of a lot of employees.”

“I hope you’re a good boss.”

“A very good one,” you smile.

“Do you have any alcohol?” Tina asks.

She stumbles forward and knocks into you. You fall forward and end up in Dean’s lap. He’s leaning against one of the trucks, and he easily catches you in his strong arms. There go the butterflies again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be. It got you in my arms,” he flirts.

You turn in his arms but he doesn’t let go of you. In fact, he wraps his arm around your chest. Shelly sees the blush on your cheeks and is mentally doing backflips at the thought of you finding your one.

“No, alcohol. Sorry.”

“Y/N, you have some. Let’s go to your place,” Janice says.

“We were heading there when you guys wanted to stop here and talk to the nice men.”

You look past your friends and notice the firefighter pole in the corner, and you gasp happily.

“You have a pole! I’ve always wanted to go down one,” you grin. “Can I?”

“Maybe when you’re not drunk,” Dean chuckles. “How are you guys getting home?”

“Walking. I live a few blocks away. We drove here but my car is going to be parked at the bar all night.”

“Let me drive you girls just make sure you make it home okay.”

“That sounds amazing. We’d love a ride,” Shelly says before you can say anything. “Can we take the firetruck?”

“Do you want to take the firetruck?” Dean asks.

You pull away slightly and look into his eyes. How are they so green? Damn, his parents must have great genes.

“Sure,” you giggle.

“Don’t let the Captain catch you,” one of Dean’s friends smirks.

“Don’t tell him and he won’t know. We’re taking the truck, ladies. Hop in.”

Your friends whoop and cheer as they climb into the truck, and Dean helps you into the front. Instead of driving them all home, he just takes them to your house. It’s a short ride but you feel more sober now than you did when you first arrived at the bar. There's something about Dean that makes you want to remember the night. You want to wake up tomorrow and remember how green his eyes are.

Your friends pile out of the truck and stumble to your front door. You toss Shelly your keys so that they can go inside while you hang back with Dean for a few minutes alone with him.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You open the door and hop out, but Dean doesn’t drive away like you thought he was going to do. Instead, he rolls down the window so he can get a better view of you walking to your house. A man who waits for you to enter your house? That’s a man you want.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he calls out.

“Bye, Dean.”

Only when he sees you walk inside does he drive off. Dean hasn’t left your mind since that night, even after a week of grueling work in the office. As a new manager, you’re expected to do more work and manage more than half a dozen employees. It’s what you signed up for, but you didn’t realize just how much of your energy it was going to cost you.

By Friday night, you and your friends went to the same club to unwind. This time, you didn't drive to the club because you don’t ever want to leave your car here again. Reports of cars being broken into came from the bar. Luckily, yours was left alone but it was enough to scare you from keeping it here again.

“So, what happened with fireman Dean?” Shelly asks with a grin. “Did you kiss him?”

“Shelly! No,” you laugh. “He just gave us a ride. That’s it. I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should go back and get it for you,” Tina smirks.

“Leave the poor man alone.”

This time, you don’t drink as much as your friends because you’re kind of hoping to run into Dean again. You want to remember every interaction with him as you can, and you figure you can always drink at your house. Time flies when you’re having fun and before you know it, it’s already two in the morning. You and your friends pile out of the bar but pause when you see the shiny red fire truck waiting outside.

“Hey, ladies. Want a ride?” Dean grins.

“Dean, hi,” you smile.

The girls giggle to themselves at the starstruck look in your eyes. Thankfully, they don’t comment on it.

“Thanks for the ride, Dean,” Shelly grins.

The girls take their seats in the back while you’re still standing on the sidewalk. You take two steps toward Dean and end up tripping over your own two feet. Dean is quick with his reflexes and catches you before you faceplant onto the concrete.

“Now, if I wasn’t here, who would have caught you?”

“No one,” you blush.

“Exactly. Now I have to be here every time to catch you.”

Once you’re in the passenger seat, Dean takes off toward Shelly’s house. You give him directions to each of their houses until you’re the only one left.

“Thank you for driving us all home.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

You spot a Sharpie in one of the cup holders so you grab it and grab Dean’s right hand. You write down your number in big numbers so he can’t miss it.

“Call me next time you want to pick me up.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

You lean over and kiss Dean’s cheek before leaving the fire truck. He watches you with a slight smirk, only driving away once he knows you’re safe inside your house. This becomes a routine for you and Dean. He’s always there outside the club with the fire truck, ready to drive you and your friends home. One time, you had an Uber all set up but Dean refused to let you take it. Your friends are having a field day with this. They tease you about your new fireman boyfriend even though you and Dean aren’t dating.

Could you two be? Sure. He hasn’t asked you out nor have you asked him out, and you two have never kissed. You’re flirting, dancing around the edges of what could be. It’s enough for you right now even though it wouldn’t be so terrible to date him. It’s fun to have a sexy stranger waiting for you.

One Friday night, you’re the designated DD since you have to help your brother move tomorrow. Being the only one sober is hilarious knowing how raunchy your friends can get.

“So, when are you going to fuck him?” Shelly asks.

“It’s not like that. He’s just giving us rides.”

“I bet you’d like to ride him,” Janice giggles. Your entire face goes hot, and she laughs at the look on your face. “Look how red she is! You like him!”

“Drink your drink, okay?”

Throughout the night, all you can think about is Dean and how good he’d look on top of you or beneath you. Curse your friends and their no-filter mouths. By the time two rolls around, you’re leaving the club with your friends. Dean is standing outside near his truck like he’s always done the past few months.

“I’m the DD tonight.” You hold up your key. “No drinking for me.”

“When are you going to fuck her?” Tina asks loudly. “Because it’s been a long time for her.”

“Tina!” you hiss and look at Dean. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, “but I am driving you all home. You can call me tomorrow and I’ll drive you back here.”

“Why would you do that? It seems like a hassle.”

“It’s no problem.”

The girls hop into the back while you take the front, as per usual, and Dean starts the drive to Shelly’s house. While he’s driving, you can’t help but stare at him. He has such a great side profile. His jaw is strong and sharp, and he has a delicious amount of facial hair. Not too long but enough to feel the burn on your skin. Dean side-eyes you and smirks knowing you’re watching him.

“Want to turn the sirens on?”

“Yeah! Turn them on!”

“Can I?” you ask with a grin.

Dean shows you the button to press, and you flip the switch. The sirens go off and the lights flash rapidly, and your friends cheer and shout. Dean turns them off before someone thinks there is a real emergency. Dean stops at your house once all your friends are gone, but you don’t rush to get out.

“Thank you for driving them home. You didn't have to.”

“I wanted to. I like driving you home.”

Now that you’re sober, you can feel the tension between you two. This is going to be something you deal with another time, so you lean over and kiss his cheek like you’ve been doing.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You get out of the truck and feel his eyes on you the whole time. Instead of going inside, you stop by your front door just staring at it. What the hell are you doing? There is obvious chemistry between you two. Are you really just going to ignore it and wait for someone else to snatch him up?

“Y/N?” Dean calls from the truck. When you don’t turn around, he gets out and lightly jogs over to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Why did you drive me home?” You turn to face him. “Now I have to go back to the club to get my car.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and drive you over there. Not in the truck, unfortunately.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“You were drinking tonight.”

“I was the DD. Why did you drive me and all my friends home?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Would it be weird if I told you I look forward to Friday nights knowing I get to see your smile?”

“No,” you mumble with a blush. “Would it be weird if I told you I only go to the club on Friday nights knowing you’re out there waiting for me?”

Dean steps closer to you with a smile. “No. Would it be weird if I wanted to kiss you?”

“It’d be weird if you didn’t.”

Dean pulls you into him and kisses you. It’s like how every romance author describes a first kiss. Sparks fly, euphoria flows through the veins, and you can’t ever see yourself kissing anyone else.

x

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[scary-grace]

Bloody Valentine - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

When you get to school on Valentine's Day, your biggest worry is how you're going to give chocolate to your lab partner and crush, Shigaraki Tomura, without him knowing that it was you, and when it all goes wrong, you can't imagine how your day could possibly get worse. But when a plague of zombies erupts within the halls of UA High and the evacuation leaves you behind, you find yourself trapped with Shigaraki, both of you left behind. You've been forgotten. There's no help coming. Forget being each other's valentines - now you're each other's only chance to get out of this alive. (cross-posted to Ao3) dividers by @kodaswrld

Chapter 1

You slink through the aisles at the convenience store, blinking sleep out of your eyes and wishing you’d gone to bed earlier last night. You knew what kind of day today was going to be, because it’s the same kind of day you have every day – busy. Rehearsal in the morning, before school starts, team practice as soon as the final bell rings, and in between, the heaviest class schedule it’s possible to take while still reserving at least a few hours to sleep. You should have gone to bed earlier. A lot earlier.

But you didn’t, because you never do, and now you’re here, buying Valentine’s Day chocolate on five hours of sleep. You know you should have made the chocolates by hand, like you did for your friends. It’s something you’re going to have to explain, if the person you’re planning to give the convenience-store chocolate to figures out it’s from you and asks why you cheaped out on him. You’ll have to think of something to say. In the meantime, you pick out the package with the least-ostentatious wrapping and the fewest fruit flavors and make your way to the cash register.

You aren’t the only person in line who waited until the last minute. The woman in front of you is balancing a tower of boxes of the most expensive chocolate the convenience store offers, and the girl behind you in a middle-school uniform is holding a tiny box with an enormous bow on top of it. The cashier’s a woman, too. She doesn’t question the woman ahead of you in line, but when you step up to pay, she looks you up and down with a sly smile on her face. “Who’s this for?”

Your face burns red. You haven’t admitted this out loud to anybody yet, but you have to start somewhere. “My lab partner.”

She chuckles and checks you out, and you wander off to one side, trying to store your loose change and hide the chocolate in your backpack at the same time. You overhear the conversation the cashier has with the middle-schooler. “Sorry. You don’t have quite enough for that one.”

“But it’s the smallest one!” the girl protests. She’s barely old enough to be in middle-school – not more than thirteen. “I looked at the price –”

“Sales tax,” the cashier says. You wince. “Go on. There are people waiting behind you.”

You hear the girl sniffle, and you still haven’t stored your change. You step back up to the counter and slide the coins across it, back to the cashier. “That’s enough, right?”

The cashier nods. You pick up the small box and hand it back to the girl, ushering her outside into a cold, mostly-dark February morning. “Thanks,” she says to you, but her mouth’s still turned down. “He’s my best friend, but all the girls like him – he’s going to get so much and mine’s so small –”

“Write something to go with it,” you suggest. “If you put a note on it it’ll at least look different from the others.”

“Is that what you’re going to do?”

You’re going to stealth-mode the chocolate into his locker and hope he guesses it’s from you – or at least hope that he doesn’t think it’s from somebody else. But you haven’t put much thought into it, and this girl’s best friend is probably a far cry from your lab partner, who’s capable of exuding an aura so grumpy and malevolent that first-years have been known to leave the building to get away from him. “Yeah,” you say, feeling only a little guilty. “Good luck with yours.”

“You, too,” she says. She heads for the metro stop; you store your chocolate away at long last, wrap your scarf a little more tightly around your neck, and start the walk to school.

UA High isn’t for everybody. It’s academically rigorous, to the point where the kids taking remedial classes there could still run circles around the advanced students from any other school, and it’s got so many class and extracurricular offerings that it could almost pass for a university. It’s prestigious to the max, and it’s also really expensive. Students who go there come from rich families, or else they’re on scholarship, their grades and participation reviewed at the end of every term to see if the scholarship will be renewed.

Nobody ever comes out and says which one they are, but it’s pretty easy to tell. Rich kids have class schedules that wouldn’t be out of place at a normal high school. Scholarship kids have schedules like yours. A schedule which begins bright and early at seven am with rehearsal for the school play. This year, it’s Romeo and Juliet, performed pop-opera style – next to no spoken dialogue, almost every piece of dialogue sung. The drama club doesn’t have enough good singers to make it work, so they pressed the choir into service. That’s where you come in. You’re not a good actor or the best singer, but your voice isn’t objectionable and you don’t make a lot of mistakes. That’s enough to earn you a part in the chorus.

And enough to make you an understudy – and the girl who plays Juliet is out sick, which means you’re stuck holding hands with Amajiki Tamaki as the director tries for the billionth time to coax some life into his performance. “Come on, Amajiki! This is a girl you’re holding hands with. The most beautiful girl in the world.”

Amajiki frowns. “I thought Rosalind was the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“That was last week,” Yamada-sensei says. You try not to laugh. “This week it’s all about Juliet, and unlike Rosalind, Juliet likes you. Get hyped! Okay, let’s take it from the top –”

Yaoyorozu starts playing the introductory notes of the song. Amajiki looks directly down at your joined hands and starts singing to them. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims ready stand, to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss –”

He’s on-key, which is a big deal for drama club kids, but just as wooden as ever. Off to one side, you see Yamada-sensei shaking his head. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,” you sing. Your performance is probably at least as wooden as Amajiki’s, but you’re not supposed to be here, anyway. “Which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands which pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

“Cut,” Yamada-sensei announces. “You’re killing me, Amajiki. Look at her for a second while you’re singing it. Chemistry is all about eye contact.”

“They don’t have chemistry,” Monoma, who plays Tybalt, announces from off to the side. “He and Kenranzaki have chemistry.”

That chemistry is probably the result of Amajiki being terrified of Kenranzaki, just like every other guy at school, but at least some sparks are flying onstage when they’re together. You’re not even sure how Amajiki ended up in the play when he’s got the worst case of stage fright you’ve ever seen. His hands are really sweaty. “Pretend it’s not me,” you suggest. “Pretend I’m the person you like, if you like anybody.”

“There’s an idea,” Yamada-sensei says. Amajiki’s face turns bright red. “Ooh, there it is! We’ve got something. Let’s move.”

“You have to do it too,” Amajiki says to you. “Pretend I’m someone you like. If you like anybody.”

“Fine,” you say. If Amajiki gets a good run-through, you get to go wash your hands. The piano playing starts, and you give it your best shot.

Your plan was to picture an actor, somebody cute but distant, but instead your lab partner pops into your head. Your face goes instantly flushed, probably even more obviously than Amajiki’s, because if you confessed your feelings to Shigaraki Tomura by singing them, he’d laugh you out of the school. If he were the one standing across from you right now, you’d be cringing in despair, knowing for a fact you’d already blown your chances, trying to enjoy the few seconds of holding his hands you got before he yanked them away. You definitely wouldn’t feel like singing about it.

Still, you get through your first lines, and manage to hold Amajiki’s gaze during his response. Saints and palmers have lips, et cetera – and then it’s your turn. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer –”

“O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,” Amajiki says. His eye contact is a little too direct, a lot too earnest. Now you’re really uncomfortable. “They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

“Okay, that’s good enough for now. We don’t want Romeo to faint,” Yamada-sensei says. “That was a lot better, Amajiki. I could tell you were feeling – something. Go get some water. And you –”

He points at you. You cringe. “Stay put,” Yamada-san instructs. “Count Paris, you’re up. We’ve got some back and forth we need to run.”

Tetsutetsu, the first-year who plays Paris, hops up from his seat and comes to stand on the makeshift stage. All you can do is hope his hands aren’t too sweaty.

You stagger out of the rehearsal space at eight-thirty, desperate for a place to wash your hands, and Nejire, who was waiting for you outside, follows you into the bathroom. “I got a Snapchat,” she sings out, brandishing her phone while you run water over your hands. “You and Amajiki sound so good!”

Your heart sinks. “Somebody filmed it?”

“Just on Snapchat! It’s not a story or anything,” Nejire says. “Amajiki’s so cute when he’s blushing!”

“He looks like he wants to die,” you mumble. “How did he end up in the play, anyway?”

“He failed English last term.” Nejire lowers her voice. Amajiki’s a scholarship student, just like you, and you know what failing a class means. “Yamada-sensei convinced the principal not to kick him out as long as he made it up somehow, and since he can sing, being in the play is the best way.”

If it came down to being kicked out of UA or doing some extracurricular activity you really hated, you’d pick the latter without blinking. Nejire replays the Snapchat again while you dry your hands. “How come you were up there? I thought Kenranzaki was the lead?”

“She is,” you say. “She wasn’t here this morning. It was weird – she never misses rehearsals, and she didn’t even text.”

“People were missing from dance practice, too,” Nejire says, frowning. “Kodai and Hagakure didn’t text, either.”

“Maybe something’s going around,” you say. Whatever it is, you hope you don’t get it. You have too much to do. You dry your hands and straighten up. “Come on. I brought you chocolate and I don’t want to give it to you in the bathroom.”

Nejire has chocolate for you, too. She bought chocolate rather than made it, and because she’s not on scholarship, she can afford the really good stuff. You feel awkward handing over your homemade chocolates, but Nejire exclaims over them anyway. You know she’s sincere, because she can’t fake anything for more than a few seconds. “I bet we’re giving them to all the same people,” she says, beaming. “We still have a few minutes. Let’s go hand them out together!”

Your homemade chocolates look like nothing compared to Nejire’s expensive ones, but you’re not friends with your friends for no reason. They compliment Nejire’s generosity and your hard work, and hand chocolate back to you with enthusiasm. You manage to pass your chocolates out to three of your friends before homeroom – Keiko, Saki, and Hinata, girls you’ve known since your first day. The rest you’ll have to get on the run.

Other than homeroom, most of UA High’s classes are sorted by ability rather than by year, which means you’ve had the chance to make friends with second-years and first-years, too. Kyoka is a first-year, but she stands next to you in first-period chorus, so you’ve talked to her almost every day since the start of the year. She gets a box of chocolates. So does Camie in second period advanced calculus, even though she thinks you’re sort of boring and you think she’s kind of an airhead. You helped each other study for your final exams last term. You owe her.

You don’t sit next to any of your friends in third-period English class, but someone in that class is on the climbing team with you. You aren’t close enough to give him chocolate, but you’re friendly enough to say good morning. Spinner returns your greeting, but he’s looking apprehensively at your gear bag. “Wait, were we top-roping today? I forgot all my shit.”

“Coach will probably change it to bouldering if you ask her,” you say. Spinner’s the best climber on the team by a mile, but he’s not the most motivated, and Coach Usagiyama will do just about anything to keep him interested. “If not, I’ve got a spare harness in here.”

“Thanks.” Spinner breathes a sigh of relief. Or yawns. “If it wasn’t movie day in here I’d be screwed. I need a nap.”

“Same,” you admit. “Do you know which –”

“Ladies and those of you who are not ladies, take your seats!” Yamada-sensei booms as he slams the door of the classroom shut behind him, and you scurry back to your seat. Yamada-sensei skids in for a landing in front of the blackboard and switches to English. “I only have one question for you this fine movie day – rom-com or action?”

You vote action, and so does Spinner, but it’s Valentine’s Day and advanced English is mostly girls, so of course you lose. As the vote’s happening, though, you realize just how many people are missing from class today. Kenranzaki from the drama club, two people from Nejire’s dance team, and at least three from English class. Something must be going around. As the bell rings to signal the end of the class period, a terrible thought occurs to you. So many people are absent. What if Shigaraki’s absent, too?

Spinner would know. They’re friends. You stop by his desk as he’s waking up from his nap. “Hey,” you start, “do you know if Shigaraki’s here today? We’re starting a new experiment in chem lab, and –”

“He’s here. I saw him this morning,” Spinner says. “He’s probably going to be late, though. He’s late to everything.”

That gives you time to drop the chocolate on his desk, if you hurry. The thought makes you nervous. Spinner notices. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll text him and tell him to hurry up.”

“No, don’t –” you start, but Spinner’s already got his phone out. You’re running out of time. You mumble an insincere thank-you to Spinner and book it to the lab, trying not to think about how Shigaraki will respond to the idea of you – you, through Spinner – bossing him around.

You get to chem lab first, ahead of everyone – all your classmates and Sasaki-sensei, too. You tuck your belongings under the bench you share with Shigaraki, pull the chocolate out of your backpack, and set it down on his side of the bench. Done. Your heart is racing, and he’s not even here yet – and once he does, he won’t even know it’s from you. Your high school experience hasn’t been a dream by any means, but this might just be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

It would be different if you had a crush on a nice guy, but Shigaraki Tomura isn’t a nice guy. He’s older than you, courtesy of being held back a year sometime in middle school, and while he has friends, every last one of them except Spinner has a reputation just like his. When you were paired up with him for chem lab at the beginning of the year, most people felt sorry for you, and they said so. But you were determined to make the best of it, not to get off on the wrong foot, and so you were friendly. It took two months for him to start being friendly back. For a given value of friendly.

He makes fun of you for being such an overachiever, such a perfectionist – but never for being here on scholarship. The first time he complimented you, it was vague and almost backhanded, but it had your heart racing for the rest of the period. When you finally swapped phone numbers, it took you three days to work up the courage to text him first. Sometimes Shigaraki leaves you hanging, but if you catch him at the right moment – usually at night, when both of you should be sleeping – you can draw him into a conversation. And he’s different than anybody else you know.

You know you’re a cliché, the stereotype of a good girl with a crush on the dictionary definition of a bad guy. But you don’t think that’s why you like him. You just – like him. And you remember something he said a while ago, when the two of you were complaining about couples hanging out in the hallways and blocking you from getting your shoes back, and he mentioned something about Valentine’s Day being even worse – everybody and their cat gets chocolate, and I just have to look at it. You read between the lines. The idea of bringing him chocolate was in your head way before you admitted you had a crush.

Your classmates trickle into the lab slowly, and once again, you register that there aren’t as many as usual. More than a few benches have an empty seat at one side, but Sasaki-sensei arrives thirty seconds before the bell rings, as usual, and starts taking attendance before the final notes ring out. He has the strictest attendance policy in school, and you watch the door anxiously out of the corner of your eye as you organize your pre-work for today’s lab. Acid-base titration. It should be an easy experiment to run, but not if you’re running it alone.

But you won’t be. A shadow darkens the doorway, then falls across your bench, and Shigaraki Tomura drops down in his seat next to you just as Sasaki-sensei calls his name. He doesn’t hear Sasaki-sensei, though – he has headphones in. You elbow him and he yanks them out, just in time for Sasaki-sensei to repeat himself. “Shigaraki Tomura?”

Shigaraki half-heartedly raises one hand, then lets it drop. Sasaki-sensei addresses the class, all business. “I see multiple absences today. If your partner is missing, pair up with someone whose partner is also missing. As usual, you will not be allowed to begin the experiment until I confirm the completion of your prework, and if you run out of time to complete the lab, you will receive no credit for the day.”

The familiar anxious shooting pains lance through your fingers. You can be as prepared as it’s possible to be, and Sasaki-sensei’s reminder of just how willing he is to fail you always scares you. Next to you, Shigaraki pulls a few crumpled pieces of paper out of his backpack, muttering under his breath. “Half the school’s out sick. He can’t cut us a break?”

You move your papers alongside Shigaraki’s, sorting them to make it easier for Sasaki-sensei to see that you’re both done, and take a risk. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, I figured. Spinner texted me,” Shigaraki says. You cringe. “This lab’s so scary you can’t do it alone?”

“I could do it alone,” you say, stung. It’s the kind of thing he usually says with a teasing note in his voice, but instead he’s strangely flat. He’s not looking at you. “It’s just weird, with so many people out. Did all your friends make it in today?”

“Everybody but Twice,” Shigaraki says. “He can’t shut up when he’s sick, usually – we all get a newsflash every time his body does something disgusting – but this time he hasn’t said a word.”

Kenranzaki didn’t, either. Neither did the girls who were missing from dance team practice. Shigaraki glances at you. “Is that really all it takes to spook you?”

“I didn’t say I was scared. Just that it’s weird,” you say. He’s in a mood today. Is it really just that it’s Valentine’s Day? “Are you feeling okay?”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Because you seem – different – this morning,” you say, stumbling over the words. You thought the two of you were past this. What did you do? “I just wanted to ask. In case there was something –”

“Something you could do?” Shigaraki finishes your sentence. He scoffs. “Nice try. I know what –”

“I certainly hope you do.” Sasaki-sensei looms over the two of you, scooping your prework off the desk. “Shigaraki, your handwriting continues to be atrocious. And you – how many times do I have to ask you to stop writing in 10-pt font? You’re going to strain my eyes.”

“You need better glasses, then, Sensei,” Shigaraki says, almost sneering. That sounds more like him. You can almost fool yourself into thinking he’s defending you. “Our handwriting doesn’t matter. Are we right or wrong?”

Sasaki-sensei glances over your work again. “If I docked points for illegibility, you’d both be on the verge of failing. But your calculations are sound. You may begin.”

You’d be more relieved if Shigaraki wasn’t acting so weird. The two of you start setting out your equipment. “I just wanted to know,” you start, “because I –”

“Shut up,” Shigaraki snaps. You startle. “What the fuck is this?”

It’s the box of chocolates you bought. He scoops it off the desk and brandishes it at you. “This was you, wasn’t it? What is wrong with you?”

“Who said it was me?” You don’t know how to cover up your shock, so you return fire instead. “Whoever it was –”

“I know it was you,” Shigaraki cuts you off.

“How?”

“Because it’s on my desk in fucking chem lab and you’re the only girl in here who talks to me,” Shigaraki says. He drops the box back on the table and shoves it towards you. “Unless you’re going to pretend I’ve got some kind of secret admirer –”

“Maybe you do!” Your voice starts to scale up, and you clench your jaw. You shove the box back across the table towards him. “It could be anybody who left that there. Why are you mad at me?”

“Because it wasn’t anybody. It was you!” An angry flush is crawling from beneath Shigaraki’s collar. He picks up the box of chocolates and drops it on your notebook. “Take this back or I’m throwing it away.”

“Somebody decided to show they like you and you’re throwing it away?” You’re shocked by the acidic note in your own voice, even as you make up your mind to never admit that you were the one who put it there. “You can be mad at me all you want, but you shouldn’t punish them for what you –”

“That’s enough, Station 11,” Sasaki-sensei snaps, from up near the front of the classroom where he’s correcting Yoarashi’s and Togata’s prework. “Focus on your experiment and stop distracting the others.”

This is the wrong class to try to fight with somebody in. You set the box of chocolates down exactly equidistant from you and Shigaraki and start testing the scale you’re supposed to use to weigh your reactants. Sometimes Sasaki-sensei calibrates them wrong on purpose just to throw people off. Next to you, Shigaraki’s sitting still in his seat, visibly seething. His face is still flushed, and when he opens his mouth, it’s to come after you again. “Fuck off with this ‘somebody else’ bullshit,” he says – quieter than before, but not by much. “I know damn well it wasn’t Toga, so that leaves you. You’re the only –”

He breaks off, curses, but you can fill in the rest of the sentence. You and Toga are the only girls he talks to. “And I guess you think this is funny or something, because –”

“Why would I think this is funny?” you hiss.

“Like I’d know. Like I’d ever know what the fuck is going on in your head! I thought –” Shigaraki breaks off again, this time without the cursing, and the look he turns on you is so disdainful that you can barely keep your composure. “You really can act, huh. That nice-girl thing you’ve been putting on since school started. You almost had me fooled.”

Your temper breaks free. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You expect me to believe you’re stupid now?” Shigaraki laughs, so cold and derisive that your eyes sting. “I’m not falling for that one. I’m done almost falling for –”

“Is it really that hard for you to believe that someone might want to be around you?” As much venom as there is in Shigaraki’s voice, you can match it. He might think you’re a nice girl, but you wouldn’t have survived almost three years as a scholarship student at UA if you weren’t tough enough to hold your own with anybody. “I have to tell you, it’s hard for me to believe right now. If this is how you react to some stranger who cares, anybody who wants to be around you must be out of their mind.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” you fire back. “Hate yourself as much as you want. I’m not just going to sit here –”

“No, you aren’t.” Sasaki-sensei looms over you, and your heart sinks so far and fast that you feel nauseous. He looks pissed, as pissed as you’ve ever seen him, his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. “I warned the two of you once. Not only did you fail to save your lover’s spat until after class, you were both made aware of my policy on profanity at the beginning of the year, and the first-years across the hall could hear the two of you swearing.”

“Sensei –”

“Manners,” Sasaki-sensei snaps, and you fall silent. “To the principal’s office, both of you. And take your belongings. You won’t be coming back here today.”

He’s kicking you out. He won’t let you finish the lab, and if you completely miss a lab, your chemistry grade will plummet. Shigaraki might not care about his grades, but if your grades drop, you’ll be thrown out of UA with a semester left in your third year. “It wasn’t me,” you protest. “Shigaraki started it!”

“Based on what I heard, you were a willing participant,” Sasaki-sensei says. He throws Shigaraki a dirty look, but the vast majority of his disdain is reserved for you. “I expected better of you, at least. Get out.”

Shigaraki’s already packed up his things. He shoves his chair back and it lets out an awful screech as it skids across the tiles, but you’re frozen in your seat. Your heart is racing, and your eyes are starting to prickle and burn. No matter what you do, it feels like the wrong choice – refuse to leave, blame Shigaraki for starting this again, try to make your case? Sasaki-sensei drums his fingers against his forearm, waiting for you, and when you don’t move, he barks at you. “Now.”

Someone giggles, and the sound snaps you out of your paralysis. You whip around to find two of the first-years in third-year chemistry snickering behind their hands – Kaminari and Ashido, who get in trouble for talking every other class, whose grades are worse than yours, who are here on their parents’ money instead of on scholarship. You’re not going to stand here and let a bunch of rich brats laugh at you. You stand up, jam your things back into your backpack, grab the gym bag with your climbing gear, and storm past Shigaraki out the door.

You held it together in class, but now that you’re out in the middle of an empty hall, you’re losing the fight against your tears. At least you are until you hear Shigaraki’s footsteps in the hallway behind you. This is his fault. There’s no way you’re going to let him know how upset you are. You pick up the pace down the hall, then up the stairs, heading for the administrative offices on the second of the school’s five floors.

Shigaraki catches up to you on the stairs. He says something, but you deliberately shift your gear bag, drowning him out with the clatter that results. Then you pick up your pace again. Shigaraki’s legs are longer than yours. He catches up and repeats what he must have said earlier. “Are you happy now?”

You were right to drown him out. You reach the administrative offices ahead of him, but as you reach for the door, it bursts open outwards. Principal Nezu nearly collides with you, and you stammer an apology. It’s as if you’re not even there. Shigaraki, on the other hand, nets a remark from the principal. “If I find out that you’re involved in this, Shigaraki –”

“Involved in what? I got sent here from chem lab.”

“If I find out you’re involved, I’ll personally ensure that you’re sent to prison,” Principal Nezu snaps, and you can’t hold in a shocked gasp. Principal Nezu’s radio crackles, and he raises it to his mouth. “Yes. I’m on my way. Do nothing until I arrive.”

He motors off down the hall, walking even faster than you were. Shigaraki steps past you into the admin offices, and the door closes in your face. You stand there for a moment, stunned. You don’t know what’s going on, what incident Principal Nezu’s referring to, but you can’t imagine what would make the principal say something like that to Shigaraki. You know Shigaraki was in trouble in middle school. Based on the few things he’s said about what it’s like for him at home, you know it isn’t good. And you know that since he started at UA, Shigaraki’s been sent to see the principal for showing up late, for falling asleep in class, for mouthing off to teachers, for throwing a punch after someone else punched him first – but he hasn’t done anything that the other school troublemakers haven’t done, too. You can’t imagine Principal Nezu threatening to send any of them to prison.

It strikes you as really harsh. Almost mean, since whatever incident is going on started while you and Shigaraki were arguing in chem class. But as awful as what the principal said to Shigaraki was, there might be a silver lining for you. If Principal Nezu hates Shigaraki that much, it won’t be hard to convince him that what happened in chem lab was all Shigaraki’s fault.

You feel awful for even thinking it. You open the door to the admin offices and step inside, addressing the first secretary you see. There are twelve of them – with everything that’s going on at UA, Principal Nezu needs all the help he can get. “Sasaki-sensei sent me here to see the principal.”

“Principal Nezu just left,” Secretary Kurose says shortly. She’s always been nice to you before now. “He’ll see you when he gets back. Wait in his office. Shigaraki’s already there.”

He’s probably waiting for you to come in so he can start the fight back up again. You wonder what he said to Secretary Kurose to put that tense, frustrated look on her face. It can’t just be because of you, can it? “I saw the principal leaving. Is something going on?”

“Wait in his office,” Secretary Kurose says. The phone rings and she picks it up, shooing you away. You walk slowly, dejectedly. Partly because you’re hurt by how she talked to you. And partly so you can hear what she says as she picks up the phone. “Yes, the principal is on-scene. The other faculty have Chisaki restrained.”

Chisaki’s one of the biology teachers – anatomy, specifically, and he’s the youngest one on staff. The weirdest, too. They have him restrained? You step into the principal’s office and shut the door behind you, so lost in thought about whatever’s going on down in the anatomy lab that you almost forget what you’re doing here.

But you can’t forget for long. Shigaraki’s sitting in Principal Nezu’s chair, feet propped up on the principal’s desk. He leans to one side to peer at you, half a smirk on his dry, scarred lips. “Come here often?”

You grit your teeth. “Never.”

“It’s your first time. I bet he’ll be gentle with you.” Shigaraki’s smirk sharpens. He leans further back in the chair. “I had to lower this thing about two feet to be able to sit in it. Do you think Nezu hates everybody who’s taller than him?”

You sit down in one of the chairs you think students are probably supposed to sit in and drop your bags by your feet. Your phone buzzes from inside your backpack, and you extract it to find a text from Nejire. What happened??? I heard something went down in lab

I’m in the principal’s office :( you text back, and that’s when it really hits you.

You’re in the principal’s office because you got kicked out of class, because you were fighting with your lab partner, because you gave him chocolate, because you have a crush on him and it’s Valentine’s Day. You might lose your scholarship. You got rejected by the person you like in the worst way possible. And now you’re stuck in here with him until the principal gets back from dealing with whatever the anatomy teacher did. This might be the worst day of school you’ve ever had.

Nejire texts back – ten texts in a row – and you ignore them. Behind the desk, Shigaraki looks up. “You get service in here? I thought this place was dead.”

“I’m on the school’s WiFi,” you say. “Third-years get the password.”

“I don’t have the password,” Shigaraki says. You struggle not to roll your eyes. “I guess it’s only for teacher’s pets.”

“If not wanting to be in trouble all the time makes me a teacher’s pet, fine. I’m a teacher’s pet,” you say. Shigaraki scoffs, and your desire to burst into tears temporarily converts to anger. Anger makes you mean. “You know, you’re a way better actor than me. You did such a good job pretending not to be exactly what everybody said you are that I actually fell for it.”

You’re expecting him to return fire right away. You’ve left him an opening to call you stupid for believing any better of him, and any second now he’s going to jump on it. But Shigaraki stays silent, and without something to react against, your anger starts to fizzle out. All that’s left is hurt and confusion. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Shigaraki says. “Except my friends are a bunch of assholes just like me, and none of them would pull the kind of stunt you did.”

“It wasn’t me,” you say.

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches. “I know it was you,” he says. “Why are you lying about it?”

“It wasn’t me.” You’re never going to admit it to him. You’re going to put this somewhere so far in the back of your mind that you’ll forget it ever happened, and every time you feel that pull towards Shigaraki, those butterflies, you’re going to remind yourself how you feel right now. “Why won’t you stop? You’ve already gotten me kicked out. Isn’t that enough?”

“Kicked out?” Shigaraki laughs at that. “I get sent here three times a week. They haven’t kicked me out yet.”

“You’re not on scholarship,” you say. Despair settles heavily over you. “I’m in the principal’s office and my chemistry grade is ruined – and they can kick me out for breathing wrong. Whatever you think I did, haven’t I paid for it?”

“They’re not kicking you out.” Shigaraki’s not laughing anymore. He takes his feet down off the desk and sits up in Principal Nezu’s chair. “When he gets back, you’re going to tell him I started it –”

“You did start it.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna cop to it,” Shigaraki says. You blink. “It’ll be my fault, I’ll get detention again, and your record won’t get messed up. They’re not kicking you out.”

“Why do you care if I get kicked out?” you ask. “Do you need a lab partner that bad?”

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches. “No,” he says. “It’ll just be a pain to have to break a new one in.”

That’s what you’d thought he’d say, or something like it. Maybe this morning you’d have thought he cared, but by now you know a lot better. You slump down in your chair, cross your arms over your chest, and wait for the principal to get back.

Fourth period ends without Principal Nezu coming back, which means you and Shigaraki are now missing lunch. School lunches are expensive. You packed your own, like always, and you dig it out of your backpack and open it. Shigaraki takes his feet down off the desk and sits up. “You brought food?”

“Yep.”

“I want some.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you say. Shigaraki stares back at you, unrepentant. “I’m not giving you my food.”

“I didn’t say I wanted all of it. I said some of it,” Shigaraki corrects, like an asshole. “Share. Unless you’re done pretending to be nice?”

“Maybe I am, since you’re done pretending not to be a bully –”

“A bully?”

“You’re trying to steal my lunch.” You put it back into your backpack. Maybe he’ll leave you alone about it now. “Most guys give that up by seventh grade.”

“Yeah, well, I was in juvie in seventh grade, so –” Shigaraki breaks off suddenly, then glares at you. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you say – and then, from somewhere at the edge of your hearing, a sound hits your ears that’s got no business being in a school. “Did you hear that?”

“What? I didn’t –” Shigaraki’s head snaps up. “I heard that.”

So did you. Two screams, from two different people, and a moment later, there’s a third. A chill goes down your spine, and you hold still with an effort, even when the fourth scream rings out. “People don’t scream like that when they’re just screwing around.”

“No,” Shigaraki says. More screams. They’re getting closer. He gets to his feet. “Get out of the way.”

“What?”

Shigaraki doesn’t answer. He kicks Principal Nezu’s chair out of the way, knocks everything on the desk onto the floor, and starts shoving at the desk, to absolutely no effect. It’s so bizarre that it takes another scream to snap you back to awareness. “What are you doing?”

“Blocking the door.” Shigaraki’s voice is strained. “Whatever’s making people scream like that, I don’t want it in here.”

What could it even be? A school shooter, like they have in America? You’d have heard gunshots. Maybe it’s a crazy person with a knife running through the halls, or a rabid animal, or something. Now there are so many people screaming that you can’t distinguish anything about the voices – male or female, young or old, victim or perpetrator. Whatever it is, Shigaraki’s right. You don’t want it here either. You leave your backpack off to one side and join Shigaraki behind the desk, giving it an experimental push. Sure, it’s heavy. You can see why Shigaraki’s having trouble. You square up, plant your feet, and shove.

The desk skids forward, and you keep pushing. Shigaraki’s not doing anything to help, even though it was his idea, and when you turn to look, you find him staring at you. “Are you on steroids or something?”

“No, I’m on the climbing team. We have to work out.” You shove the desk again, thankful for the fact that Coach Usagiyama makes you and the rest of the team cross-train at least twice a week. “Are you going to help? It’ll be faster with two.”

At first Shigaraki just stares at you, but the screams are so close now, close enough that your ears hurt, and blocking the door was his idea. Shigaraki lines up next to you and starts pushing the desk, and together the two of you wedge it against the door. Almost as soon as you’ve pushed it into place, something thuds against it from the other side. You recoil backwards, but Shigaraki throws his weight against the desk, keeping it firmly shut. “Let me in,” Secretary Kurose pleads. “They’re coming!”

Who’s they? It doesn’t matter, not when she needs help. You grab the desk and pull back, only to catch Shigaraki’s arm squarely across your chest, hard enough that you’ll have bruises. “No,” he snaps at you. “Nobody gets in.”

“She needs help!”

“You think she’d help us? No.” The door handle is rattling, and Shigaraki shoves the desk against the door again. “She can run.”

“Please,” Secretary Kurose wails. “They’re –”

Her voice breaks into a high, wavering scream, and the door shivers on its frame as at least three people collide with it. Secretary Kurose’s scream reaches a new pitch, one that makes Shigaraki flinch and makes you jam your fingers in your ears to drown it out. But some part of you knows there’s no drowning this out. Not the scream that hitches and splits. Not the low growls and wet, meaty sounds of flesh being torn away. Not the rattling breaths that go suddenly, horribly silent.

You can’t see anything that’s happening, but some part of you knows exactly what you’re listening to. Those are the sounds of a person being eaten alive, and before you can even think, you’re throwing your weight against the desk just like Shigaraki is, desperate to keep whatever’s out there from getting in.

[miniwheat77]

The One. (Creepy!Graves x Virgin!Reader.)

!DARK FIC, nsfw, smut, non con, dub con, proceed with caution. P in v sex, unprotected, virginity loss, scumbag!graves, oral sex m&f!receiving. NO MINORS!

“Yeah yeah, I got it.” You mumble into the phone. “She seriously can’t have any human food Y/N. I mean it.” She sighs. “I got it!” You laugh. “Look, me and Ruby are going to be just fine. I’ll feed her exactly how you wrote on the note, no more no less. She’ll get her meds. We’re gonna be alright.” You laugh. Looking down at the little crusty white dog you’ve agreed to dog sit. “Okay. Alright. I’m trusting you with this Y/N.” She groans into the phone. “When have I ever tested your trust?” You laugh. “You’re right. I know. I’m just stressed with this work trip, that’s all.” She sounds exhausted on the other end of the phone. "And outside of all of this that dog is all I've got. You know this." She huffs.

“Get some sleep alright? I’ll send you updates about Ruby everyday. I’ll see you when you come back.” You smile. “Alright. Thanks again Y/N. See you in a few days.”

You hang the phone up. You sigh, this was going to be a long few days.

Her house is a little eerie and you have a hard time falling asleep, but you do eventually, not having gotten to her house until late the night before.

It’s early in the morning when a knock at the door wakes you, you skeptically make your way down the stairs and hate the fact that she doesn’t have a peep hole. You open the door slowly. “Hey I was just wonder-“ The man looking back at you gathers a look of confusion. “Uhhh… you’re not Jennifer.” He laughs. “Uh.. yeah. She’s um.. on a work trip. So me and my boyfriend are house sitting for her.” You lie. You don’t have a boyfriend but you don’t want to tell a random man that you’re alone. “Oh okay. She borrowed my lawn mower a few days ago and it doesn’t look like she ever got around to her lawn but mine needs done here soon.. so. I was just wondering if I could get it back but it can wait a couple days. Thanks anyways.” He smiles. “I can always call and ask her.” You look up at him, he practically towers over you. “Oh no. I don’t want to bug her if she’s on a work trip, it can wait. Thanks anyways darling.” He smiles. The way he says ‘darling’ has your stomach doing flips. “I’m Phillip by the way.” He reaches out a hand. You take it. “Y/N.” You smile.

As soon as the door is closed you’re on your phone sending her a text.

So we keeping secrets now?

Wym?

I mean your hot neighbor.

Ew.

You don’t think so?

He’s kind of a creep I’ve heard.

Oof. Didn’t give me a bad vibe ;)

Oh dear. Don't go getting yourself into trouble.

You laugh at her text, making your way back up the stairs.

Later the same day, you’d gone to pick up some groceries, not wanting to eat her food. She said you could but you felt that was rude since she was only going to be gone a few days anyways. You also had to pick up the remainder of Ruby’s meds. She’s turned into quite the problem child.

As you’re making your way up the walkway, you see him working on some roses. Trimming them down a little bit. “Hey.” He smiles. “Hi.”

“I actually had a question.” He sets the trimmers down, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. “Yeah?” Under his shirt you can see just how toned he is. You approach the chain length fence that he's just on the other side of.

“You house sit a lot?” He asks. “Not usually, but I’m not against it. Why?”

“Well, my wife is a night shift nurse and I’m in the military so I’m gone quite a bit. We pay a lot for our kids to be in daycare but we don’t always trust them. You good with kids?” He asks. “Oh uh.. well. It depends. How many days a week do you think they’d need to be watched?” You ask. “Probably only 2 or 3 days a week. Few hours at a time. Just until their grandparents or aunt can get them.” You nod your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d mind.” You shrug. He nods. “Alright cool. I’m sure my wife would like to meet you first. Although she isn’t off until about midnight tonight though.” He mumbles. “Uhh.. I’m sure I’ll be awake by then, I can just stop by.” You shrug. “That’d be great.” He smiles.

This could turn into a pretty good job, night shift nurse, military? They’d probably be willing to pay a pretty penny for their kids to be watched and you already have some debt racked up. This could turn into something pretty damn nice. You wait around and it seems like midnight may never come. You make sure Ruby is fed and has her meds before you make your way over next door, not sure how long it may take and you don't want to leave the little dog hanging. You make sure to go over a few minutes early to make a good impression.

11:47pm

You knock at the door and he smiles when he greets you. “Hey.” He smiles. “Come on in. My wife should be off work here soon.” He smiles. You step inside. “You can have a seat on the couch, you want anything to drink?” He asks. “Oh. No I’m alright.” You smile. “Thanks though.” You take a seat on his couch. “Alright. I’m just gonna grab a beer real quick.” He smiles, walking out of the room.

How’s Ruby?

She’s good but I’m out for a minute.

What? Why?

Just a second, your neighbor asked if I’d be interested in watching his kids for him. Yknow. Since I’m such a good house sitter ;)

At midnight?

It’s when his wife is off work.

I didn’t know he was married? Or that he had kids?

He said so. He said she’d be home soon.

No, I definitely remember. He doesn’t have kids or a wife. You’re talking about the neighbor on the left side?

You’re starting to get worried. Eyes drawing up from your phone. If something happens you want her to be able to call for help but you also don’t want to be the idiot that walked right into a trap this easily.

Oh no, the one across the street.

Oh okay, jeez. Had me worried there. They nice? I’ve never met em.

Yeah, super nice. His wife just got here actually. Talk to you later. Ruby misses you.

You put your phone down, the hair on your body standing up. Worry fills you. He walks back into the room, turning the cap off of the beer.

11:53pm

“So uh.. you said you’re in the military?” You ask. “Yeah, been in since I was eighteen.” He nods. “And.. your wife’s a nurse, that’s pretty cool.” You smile. “Yeah, she doesn't mind it.” He laughs. “How old are your kids? I forgot to ask.” You glance at his left hand.

Stomach falling when you don’t see a ring. “They’re 9 and 5.” He nods. “Drive me crazy.” You’re glancing around the house. Not a toy or anything related to a woman or kids in sight. “You said your boyfriend is staying with you, how long have you both been together?” He asks. “Oh.. uh.. 3 years.” You smile. “No kids?”

“No. Not yet anyways.” You laugh. “Do you want them?” He asks. “Uhhh.. we haven’t really talked too much about it.” You laugh. You exchange more conversation as the time passes by.

12:05am

“You know.. I hate to cut this short but I’m exhausted…” you mumble. Standing up.

He stands up quickly. “She should be home any minute, really.” He laughs, gliding a hand through his hair. “Yeah I’m really sorry, I’m not usually up this late. Maybe I can come back tomorrow night or a night when she doesn’t work.” You mumble. Rubbing your eyes. Feigning tiredness.

“Alright well. I understand.” He smiles. You walk for the door, surprised when he doesn’t make a move to stop you.

You grasp the door handle, opening up the door.

It slams shut, his hand above you. A gasp leaves your lips. You freeze. You say nothing and hear nothing from him. Just his heavy breathing from behind you. “Please… let me go.”

He raises his hand, grasping your hair and moving it to your other shoulder. “I’m not trying to scare you.. promise.” He breathes. “I’m not too good at this.” He sighs. His lips are right by your ear. You tug at the door handle again but he holds it.

“Look.. just talk to me please? I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.” He breathes. “Look my boyfriend is probably really wondering where I am-“

“Y/N.” He shakes his head. “You and I both know there’s nobody over there. Just you.” His voice is quiet and deep.

“How do you know that?” Your heart thumps in your chest, so loud he can hear it.

“I live right next door sweetheart. I’ve seen you around before.” He laughs. “Just.. sit back down. We can talk this out.”

“No. I want to leave.” You breathe. “Please.. I swear. One conversation and I’ll let you go.”

You hesitate. “Fine.” You breathe. Surprised when he steps back. You turn to look at him but you don’t move away from the door. He takes another couple steps back. “Why did you lie about having a wife and kids?” You ask. “I.. just wanted you over here. I needed some kind of excuse. I think you’re.. gorgeous and I realize now how creepy that probably soun-“ you grasp the door handle and rip it open.

But you’re not fast enough.

He grasps a hold of your arm, ripping you back inside his house and slamming the door, locking it this time. He shoves you up against it. Your cheek pressed against the cool wood. He hisses, pressing his entire body into you. “Fuck- now why’d you have to go and do that hm?” He breathes. You can feel him shaking. He wraps a hand in your hair, pushing your face into the door harder. “You’re so pretty. Fuck- and you smell so good too.” He breathes. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry.” He shakes. “I know I’m a fucking creep. I’m not good at this.” His voice is shaky and he stutters when he speaks. Like he’s never done this before. Like some Virgin desperate enough to hurt for it.

“I- I just.. haven’t been with a woman in so long. And you.. my god. I knew I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you. Knew you were the one.” He’s nearly panting as he says it. “It’s.. it’s okay Phillip- that’s your name right?” You mumble. He nods. He releases the pressure he has on you, letting you spin around to look at him. “You don’t have to do this okay?” You breathe.

“But.. I do.”

He leans into you. “You can fight me.” He breathes. His lips are nearly brushing yours. “But you don’t have to. I saw the way you were looking at me. I know you want this too.” He breathes. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

You can feel tears gathering in your eyes. This is what you get for being so trusting. “Okay… okay.” You take in a shaky breath. “Don’t cry… please. I promise I’ll be good to you okay?” You nod. Closing your eyes tight. His lips brush yours and you take in a deep breath. He presses his to yours fully, and this is happening one way or another so you ignore what this really is. You don’t kiss him back. He kisses you hard, hands on your hips, pushing them up your shirt. When he finally pulls away your lips are blushing.

“I.. I’m sorry.” He breathes. He wipes his face in frustration. “Can we start over?” He breathes. Your cheeks are still wet with tears. “I.. I’m Phillip. I’m single, no kids. I’m in the military.” He laughs. He inhales through his nose. He sticks his hand out for you to shake.

He sees the slightest tug at the corner of your lips.

“I… I’m Y/N. I’m also single, and I’m dog sitting next door.” You breathe. Taking his hand.

“And.. that’s probably not what you should’ve started with.” You breathe. Eyes flashing to his lips and than back to his eyes. “What?”

“You should’ve said, ‘Hi. I’m Phillip. And I’m so horny that I look like a creep and force myself onto people.’ Maybe.” You laugh, looking down. He smiles. It’s obviously a sad smile. “God.. when you say it like that.” He breathes. “I swear I’m not usually like this.” He shakes his head. “Haven’t been with a woman in years but there’s something about you.” He trails off, shaking his head. “I’ve seen you around but talking to you was an entirely different ballgame. My god…” He breathes. “I am a creep, shit.” He breathes. “It’s okay.” You sigh. “I mean it’s not but.. I’ll let it go.” You breathe.

“Okay. I.. you can go alright? I’m sorry.”

You shake your head.

“What?”

“The proper way to get a girl alone, is to invite her over for dinner sometime. Not lie about having a wife and kids. Total turn off.” You laugh. “But lucky for you, I’m nice so I’ll let it slide.” You take a deep breath. “If you do that shit to me again though I might have to fight you. So just.. keep your hands to yourself and we’ll be alright.” You laugh. Your heart is still thumping in your chest. He didn’t seem like a violent man, but he’d just tried to force himself on you so you couldn’t assume too much more. He raises his hands in surrender. “Promise.”

“How long have you been in the military?” You ask. “I didn’t lie about that part. Since I was eighteen.” He nods. He skeptically sits down. You can tell he doesn’t want you to leave. “And how old are you?” You ask. “Thirty-five.” Your eyes widen. “Jesus.” You laugh. “What?”

“Older than I thought.” You mumble. Seeing as you’re still in your mid-twenties. “You.. want to watch a movie or something?” He asks. “Uh. Yeah fine whatever.” You mumble, sitting down.

Your brain is fried, should you take him being so into you that he nearly forces himself on you as a compliment?

You sit down away from him, the both of you agreeing on a movie.

You’re getting tired but you know you can’t fall asleep here, so you finish the movie and go back next door without any more issues.

———

“Hey.” He smiles. “I uh.. brought beer.” You laugh. He’s invited you to his house once again. Properly this time.

You step inside and he closes the door behind you. You’d picked a new movie to watch this time. It’d just come out. You take your places, you’d set Ruby up with some food and water and a couple treats so she was asleep when you left. He starts the movie and opens a beer, sitting where he usually does.

About halfway through the movie is when a sex scene comes on. The first of any of the movies you’d watched. You notice him shift uncomfortably. By the end of the scene, he’s palming himself in the dark. You can barely see it. You chew at your lip nervously. He’s laying back on the smaller love seat to your right, he can’t see you as easily as you see him. He clearly doesn’t know that.

When the movie is over, he’s got one hand behind his head, his eyes are closed. His lips are parted slightly, he’s clearly fallen asleep. You smile. You stand up, walking around. You cross your arms and bite your lip, thinking of what to do.

Should you just leave?

Since his arm is draped behind his head like a pillow, his shirt has raised. Showing off his toned stomach. Your eyes travel further down, seeing that he’s still hard. Must be dreaming.

Fuck it.

You slide one knee over him, straddling his knees. It’s a little uncomfortable because the couch isn’t too big seeing as it’s a love seat. You expect him to wake up or even stir but he doesn’t. Deep sleeper.

You reach for his jeans, unbuttoning them. Unzipping them and tugging them down around his cock. He’s still hard. You’re being rough and he still hasn’t woken up. You lower yourself down, taking him into your mouth. You’re gentle at first. Toying with him to see how he’ll react in his sleep. It takes a while for him to let out a whine and shift slightly. Taking in a breath. You take him further, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. Bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Making sure not to put too much pressure on him. He takes in a jagged breath. He moans out again. “Fuck- Y/N-“ he hisses. You think he’s woken up.

Your eyes snap to his face but his eyes are still shut. It’s you he’s dreaming about. Maybe he really did just like you.

You keep up the pace. His breaths getting heavier and more frequent, until he’s panting. He’s right on the edge. His eyes tighten. He’s really close. He’s never been this close before in a dream. Why is he so-

His eyes snap open, widening when he sees you on him.

“O-oh fuck.” He breathes. “Y/N- what are you-“ his lips open.

“Wait-“ he hisses, you don’t. You don’t relent for even a second.

You can’t deny it, he’s hot and he wants you.

He’s pathetic

“Sh- oh my god…” He breathes. The muscles in his stomach tense up as you start sucking at the tip of his cock. “Fuck baby- fuck..” he breathes. “Look at me.” He hisses, his teeth are gritted. Your eyes snap up to his and he moans out, resting his back on the couch, looking down at you. “Fuck.. I’m gonna-” He groans. His eyes screw shut and he cries out. He rocks his hips forward and you swallow down a gag.

He bucks his hips again, crying out a final time as he finishes down your throat. Panting as you clean him up. “Fuck… you didn’t have to do that.” He breathes. You finally look up at him, moving up further and straddling his still hard cock. He gasps when the seam of your jeans rub against him.

“Phillip?” You say. Your voice is unsteady and rough. “Yeah?”

“You’re pathetic.” He laughs. “And you still sucked my cock.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s because you’re hot, creep.” You go to stand up, but he stops you. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You laugh. “Well I was going to go home.”

“You really want to leave after that?”

You shrug. “Why don’t you stay a while.” He chews at his lip, hand gripping his hard cock again. “Or maybe I’ll just give you no choice.” He smirks.

You roll your eyes at him. “What are you going to do?”

“At least.. meet you in the middle.” You look away from him. “Yeah, I’ll be honest. No one’s ever done that before.” You go to stand up but he stops you again. “Done what?” He asks. You roll your eyes, looking away from him.

“No one’s ever gone down on you before?”

You try to hide the smile of embarrassment. “Have you ever.. done any of this before?” He asks.

You swallow hard. Avoiding his gaze. “Shit… are you a Virgin?” He asks. You look down, setting your hands in your lap. The way you fidget with your hands is enough for him to know that you are. “Damn baby. I had no idea. I’m sorry I came on so strong before.”

You can’t help but hide your face, hearing him laugh. He grips your wrists, tugging them down. “Have you ever gone down on anyone else before, like that?” He asks. “No.”

He smiles. “You really had me fooled because.. that’s the hardest I’ve probably ever cum.” He laughs. He’s so straight forward you. You don’t know how to take him. “You’re already a pro and I haven’t shown you anything yet.”

“Yet?” You laugh. “Yeah. Yet.” He rests his hands on your thighs. His cock is still exposed. Still hard and blushing red. “You’re a bad girl, waking me up like that.” He laughs.

“Yeah right, like I couldn’t see you palming yourself through the entire movie.” You roll your eyes.

He sits up, you go to move off of him but he stops you, lifting you up with it. He sits you down on the couch like you would normal. “Slide your hips to the edge.” He nods. “What?”

“M’gonna eat that pretty pussy. Cmon.” He reaches for your waistband. “I- I haven’t shaved and I’m-“

He laughs. “Look at me.” He lifts your chin, forcing you to look up at him

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m a man not a boy. Take your pants off.” He’s stern.

You swallow hard. Nodding your head. “Y-yes sir.” The words leave your lips before you even realize it. “I- I mean!”

“It’s okay. You’re working yourself up for nothing. Relax.” He wants to taunt you but doesn’t want to take this too far.

When your pants are finally off, you have your legs shut tight. It’s amusing, how nervous you are.

“Slide your hips to the edge and spread your legs for me baby. Go on.”

You take in a deep breath. Your heart thumps hard in your chest, he can hear it. He lowers himself to his knees as you do what he says, skeptically opening your legs. You’ve still got panties on. He holds onto your knees, opening your legs even more. “Fuck. You’re so pretty.” He licks his lips. He’s ready to devour you. He’s got it in his eyes.

He runs his thumb over your clothed pussy, rubbing back and forth over your clit through your panties. You take in a deep breath. “No one has ever touched you here before?” He taunts. You shake your head. “No.”

“Shame for them. And you of course. Not for me.” He laughs. “I get you all to myself.”

He lowers his head, gliding his tongue across your panties. You moan out, watching him tease you. He flicks his tongue over your clit through them, he can feel you shiver. Desperate for him to actually touch you. He uses the tips of his fingers to slide your panties to the side. Biting his lip when he finally gets a good look at you. “Fuck…” he draws it out. It’s nearly a moan when it leaves his lips. “You’re so wet..” He breathes. He glides his tongue up your slit, flicking it over your clit just once. You tense up, the sensitivity has you whining. “Phillip please!” You cry.

He holds your hands to your side so that you can’t touch him. He laughs. “Be patient. Don’t you want your first time to be special?” He smirks. Your eyes are glossy and your cheeks are flushed. You’re turned on and he can see it in your eyes. He lets go of your hands and leans in. He’s going to seal the deal. He draws his tongue over your clit again, but this time he doesn’t let up. He keeps the steady pace, flattening his tongue across it and abusing it.

He doesn’t stop or give you a break, keeping the pace and force on your clit. You’re squirming in no time. Whining and crying out for him. You’ve got a hand in his hair, tugging it slightly. He likes the way it feels. He draws away for just a second, gathering his saliva on his fingers and gliding them down. Returning his tongue back to your clit. You don’t realize what he’s going to do until he’s already done it. He slides a soaked finger into your hole, feeling you tense up hard at the intrusion. Your breath gets caught in your throat. He doesn’t give you a chance to adjust. He pumps his finger into you at a fast pace.

You’re not going to last.

You’re nearly sobbing when he brings you to the edge. He sucks at your clit, fingering your pussy until you can’t even form a single word or thought.

When you reach your peak, you sob. Crying out louder than you’ve ever been. He keeps the pace until you squirm, stopping him.

When he finally pulls away, his lips and cheeks are flushed. His face glistens in your arousal. He smiles, licking his lips. He wipes his face with the back of his hand. “How do you feel baby? I make you feel good?”

You nod your head. He’s put you into a daze.

He laughs at your fucked out state.

“If you thought that was good.. you should see what my cock would do to you.” He glides his middle finger down your wet opening, sliding it back into your blushing hole. You whine out again. It’s too much.

“I’d stretch you so much more.. and reach so much deeper.” He slides his finger in and out of you slow, barely moving it. “You’d feel so full.” He breathes.

“You want to feel me baby? Think you can take it?”

You think for a second. You’re already sprawled out on his couch.

You nod your head.

“Atta girl.”

He exposes himself once more. He glides the tip of his cock over your slit. Gathering the arousal that’s still there from when he’d devoured you. “I’ve opened you up quite a bit already, you’re ready for me now.”

He notches the tip right at the entrance and pushes into you slow. He was right. He’s stretching you a lot.

It’s uncomfortable but he’d made your body ready for him.

He rubs circles over your clit as he pushes deeper and deeper. Keeping you stimulated. Your body takes him right in. When he’s almost there, you start to tense up. He knows he’s hurting you. Going deeper than anything you’ve ever taken, “it’s alright. You’re doing so good baby. Just keep your legs spread for me.”

You wrap your arms under your knees, spreading your legs further. You watch as he slides deeper. His cock disappearing into you.

It’s getting tighter and hurting more. “I-it hurts Phillip.” You whine. “It’s okay. Nearly there doll.” He keeps rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb. He jerks forward, hearing you cry out as he forces himself the rest of the way in. Drawing his hand back from you. “There we go- all done.” He breathes. You have tears in your eyes. “I know it hurts but it’ll never have to hurt again okay. Look at me.” He nods. Your eyes snap to his. “There’s my girl. Doing so good.” He shakes his head. He draws his hips back and slides back into you, slow. He nods his head while looking at you. “You’re taking me so well baby. So good. Just keep relaxed for me.”

The pain starts to ease. He’d hurt you pretty badly right there at the end.

It takes you a few minutes to get fully used to him. Even after that, it’s a foreign feeling. Not quite comfortable but not entirely uncomfortable either. You feel nothing.

He can see it in your face that you’re not enjoying it, but he knows exactly how to change that.

He fills you completely, the backs of your thighs flush with his hips. He’s buried completely inside of you. He nods. “Slide your hips back a little bit.” He moves with you as you do as he says. “Open your legs just a little more- perfect.”

“Now lay back completely and relax. Okay?”

You nod your head. Still feeling uncomfortable. “Perfect, try to relax now. It’s going to be a lot.”

You don’t understand what he means until he draws back and thrusts in again. Right up against that spongy spot inside of you. Your eyes widen and you gasp when he does. Chills rise on your skin. He laughs at your reaction. “Found it.”

He picks up his pace, fucking into you harder, going even deeper. The squelch from your pussy getting wetter around him has you blushing. You’re already overstimulated but he’s got you closing in on another orgasm. Your clit throbs and he doesn’t forget to give it attention too. Rubbing his thumb over it again. It’s nearly too much.

“Look at me.”

You raise your eyes to look at him, swallowing hard.

“You’re doing so good. You feeling good baby?” He asks. You nod your head. He can tell you’re getting close again. “I’m going to cum in you.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. He laughs. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.” He smiles. “Phillip- no-“

“Shhh.. just relax baby. You get the full experience. It doesn’t count, not until I fill your pussy full.”

You start to squirm. You’re not ready for a baby and even if you take something, then what?

He keeps his pace and holds you still, using one hand to force your hands together. You can’t help it. The way he stimulates you. You cry out, soaking his cock in your orgasm. The first time ever cumming around a cock. “Oh god.. I’m gonna cum so deep baby- I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside of you.” You squirm hard, trying to wiggle away, but he’s got you pinned. He draws his hand back, holding both of your wrists with both of your hands. He thrusts in as deep as he can and pauses, your eyes widen when you feel him. He cums right up against your wall, the force has your eyes widening.

You can’t believe him!

When he’s calmed down, you shove him back.

“Woah- hey. What’s wrong?”

You look pissed off.

“Y-you’re such an asshole!” You hiss. You hurry to tug your clothes back on but he’s trying to stop you the entire time.

“Don’t touch me!” You growl. “And don’t come near me again.” You go for his door and he tries to stop you but you slam the door behind yourself before he gets the chance.

“Shit.” He mumbles.

Just when you start to trust him, he fucks it all up.

[ghostgirl-22]

Idk why I did this. But since I wrote it yall have to see it (if you choose to read it of course!). Blame my beloved agegap!anon I fear <3

CW: 18+, NSFW, AGE GAP, teacher/student, power dynamics, semi public sex, jealousy, mild possessiveness, super mild D/s

—-

Original.

Pt 2.

Art can’t really help himself. If he could stop he definitely would… Maybe. He wasn’t a virgin before he had sex with his tennis coach, Patrick Zweig. He’d just never been with a boy before. Now that he’s done it, and done it, and. done. it. All over Patrick’s house. He feels a little more confident in his sexuality. And it’s weird. Because now he’s suddenly getting even more attention.

He’s not a slut. Not really. He doesn’t always give it up. But he likes to tease. And he likes the attention.

A lot.

Probably what he likes even more than the attention is the way it seems to break away at Patrick's ever present cool and calm demeanor.

Art was barely flirting, honestly. Kneeling on Chase Roberts feet so he could do sit-ups. Chase has these really pretty brown eyes that sparkle in the sunlight, and Art wasn’t really straddling him, he was just crawling between his legs to get a closer look. He didn’t expect Chase to sit up and kiss him. Or the other boys to tease and jeer when Chase did it. Chase is smirking at him and Art shoves him back down on his back, licking his lips. “You’re such a freak.”

Chase laughs. ”You can’t blame me for wanting a little taste pretty boy.” Art sits up properly, when he hears Patrick blow his whistle. Conditioned for it by now. Patrick’s looking at him but it’s only for a second before he’s yelling at everyone.

“Enough messing around,” he shouts, “since we’re all in a silly mood without the silly skills to accompany it, we’re all doing fucking drills. He says. “Come on…get up. Line up behind the baseline, middle court. Roberts in front.”

Everyone gets up. Patrick bends over leaning in to whisper in his assistant coach, Meg’s ear. His little purple shorts, forming to his ass, riding up so Art can see more of his muscular thighs. Thighs Art has sat on, that he’s felt hot and warm beneath him while taking the full length of Patrick’s cock. He never felt more grown up. He bites his tongue trying not to get hard.

Coach Meg gets up and pulls on her baseball cap. “Okay everyone we’re doing baseline, mid court, center shots.” She shouts. “For every ball you miss or hit out of bounds you run a lap and get back in line.”

There’s some irritated mumbling as Art gets in line but no one gets too loud for fear it will get worse.

“Donaldson, come with me,” Patrick says. Grabbing his clip board and walking towards the locker rooms. Art looks around and some of his teammates are smirking. Roberts makes a kissy face at him.

“I hope you’re all paying attention,” Coach Meg says, whacking Tyson Wahler with her clipboard when he mimics a sloppy make out. Art grins and hurries to catch up with Patrick.

Art is breathless when they get into the facilities building. “Am I in trouble, coach? Art asks playfully, but Patrick doesn’t really give him anything. Just keeps up his breakneck walking pace.

He approaches his office and pulls open the door, holding it for Art. Art walks in and looks around. He’s probably only been in here once, with a teammate to ask about switching doubles partners because they were both left handed.

Art turns back around to face him. “So what’s the big—“

Patrick covers him mouth and walks him backwards up against the closed office door. “Mm Donaldson, you talk too much.” He’s all in Art’s face. Art’s heart rate speeds up quickly, blood furiously rushing to his cock. “Did you fuck him?”

Art raises his eyebrows.

“You can nod, yes or no. Did you and Roberts fuck?”

Art shakes his head.

“Did you fuck any other boys since the weekend?”

Art shakes his head again. He’s actually falling apart for how fucking hot this feels. Patrick going insane over a little kiss. He licks at Patrick’s palm just to get a taste of him.

Patrick presses his forehead against the wall next to him. “Mm…you have to fucking stop.” He whines and pulls his hand off of Art’s mouth.

“Did you fuck your girlfriend since the weekend?” Art says, grinning as he tries to catch his breath and settle down.

He can’t settle down.

Patrick pushes up against him and he can feel. Fuck. He can feel it. “You’re such a fucking brat,” Patrick whispers in his ear.

“And you’re a pervert, all over me and I’m barely out of high school.” Art breathes as Patrick’s rubbing up against him. “Won’t even let me fuck a boy my own age.”

“No one your age knows how to do it properly,” Patrick whispers.

Art starts sucking kisses into his throat.

“You… fuck… you know you make me crazy. Sitting on my court, showing off that body, crawling on boys laps and letting them… oh fuck it…“ Patrick grips Art by the waist, taking his mouth in a bruising kisses, all while walking him up against the desk and bending him over. Art is pushing back on him while he’s rummaging in his desk drawer. He pulls out a condom and then he’s pumping lotion out to use as lubricant. Art feels his mouth watering. As hot as he was earlier he’s going insane now.

“I knew you’d be this fucking tight still,” Patrick groans as he’s filling Art, big hand covering his mouth to keep him quiet. Or muffled at least. Art licking, talking, moaning against his palm. Fucking in Patrick’s office while the rest of the team is running around the court. Patrick, so frantic and desperate to claim him. Ramming his prostate over and over and over till Art is spilling all over the desk, muscles trembling, head dizzy. God. He can’t believe it took him so long to start. It feels so good getting full on Patrick’s cock. Art wants it every fucking day.

“Holy shit,” Patrick sighs as he’s tying off the condom and easing his shorts back up.

Art’s all dizzy and in love with him. And now he smells a lot like cherry almond lotion.

Patrick settles on his desk chair, manspreading as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. “I shouldn’t be doing this. Fuck. I’m gonna get caught and get fucking fired.”

“Have you ever done it with a player before?” Art asks, lightly.

“Are you kidding? I’ve done fucked up shit before. I’ve done stupid shit before, but never anything this stupid and fucked up.”

Art sits on the desk, he’s all sore and it feels so good he wiggles just to feel the ache and he puts his foot between Patrick’s thighs.

“If you give me your number, I’ll do whatever you want. I won’t fuck anyone else,” Art says.

Patrick takes a deep breath and pops a cigarette in his mouth before playing with Art’s shoe laces. He then takes the cigarette out of his mouth like he’s just realized he’s still inside. “No you’re a kid. You���re gonna be calling me and texting me at insane hours asking for things that I’m gonna fucking do because I have no self control. And I’m gonna end up seeing them blown up on a board in front of the school ethics committee.”

”I won’t say anything bad. I swear.” Art says. “If I’m horny I’ll just send you an eggplant emoji. Like 39 times. Isn’t that how old you are? Or is it one for good luck?”

Patrick snorts. “Get up and go back to practice, you little shit. And tell Megan we were in here talking about that recruiter that was here last week.”

Art shrugs and pushes himself off of the desk. “Can you come with me?”

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes… I promise.”

Art sighs and lingers to the point where Patrick just smiles. “Fine, come on. You get so fucking clingy after.”

“No I don't," Art says, defensive and a little warm because it’s true… Art does want to be around him. Though he doesn’t think clingy is the word.

Patrick straightens his office and Arts hair and checks himself in the mirror before they leave. He lights up as soon as they get outside. Art falls into lock step with him. “Try to relax— cause as soon as we get up there, you’re not sitting around me, it’s gonna be laps. And no more fucking kissing Roberts or anyone else.”

“I’ll try not to,” Art says grinning, knowing that if this is his punishment he might just kiss everyone on the team.

(Btw…Other anon with the brilliant ask in this au I can’t resist — I’m totally coming to that! A thousand percent! Trust!)

[daddyissuesbecauseofhotch]

Daddy issues || #2

{masterlist}

The second time you meet the mysterious man is during your walk of shame home after spending the night with some guy you met in the club you frequently visited with your friends. The best. Fucking. Time. Stilettos in hand, the skin tight short dress barely covers your ass, your hair's a mess, but at least your boobs are relatively hidden from his view.

Which is good, considering he just came home from a soccer match with his son. The boy doesn’t seem to notice despite being the perfect height to be on eye level with your ass, he just talks about the game, and while his father keeps up the conversation, you don’t miss the way his brown eyes are shamelessly scanning your body.

You want to crawl into a hole and die, but there’s no escape. You sure as hell won’t take the stairs with this terrible hangover, and they won’t either, so in a matter of seconds, the three of you will be in the elevator that’s a little too small for your liking. While you wait, you keep telling yourself that it’s just a few minutes, then you’ll both go to your own homes and hopefully forget about the encounter for good.

“Put this on,” you hear from next to you, and a moment later you see his hoodie in front of you.

Why is he so nice? Why does he have to be insanely handsome, attentive, and nice too? It’s the whole package, the definition of the perfect man. Gulping, you take a better look at the piece of clothing, your brain in overdrive to decide if it would be a good idea to accept his offer. He means well, right? He’s working for the FBI, what are the chances of him being some creep in private?

Hesitantly, you reach for the hoodie and nod to thank him for his kindness, but that’s all, no words leave your throat. You can’t speak, not when he’s looking at you like this, seeming worried with a playful smirk on his lips. The duality of this man is insane. Before you know it, he returns his attention to his son, who seems interested in why he gave his hoodie to a stranger.

You put the piece of clothing on while paying attention to the conversation next to you, and your nose is instantly filled with a comforting scent, a mixture of his cologne and something else, something that must be uniquely him. It’s nice. You could honestly get used to being wrapped in it all the time. But wait. Why are you thinking about this? Are you crazy?

To your surprise, as you finally enter the elevator, he says, “She seems to be cold. And she’s our new neighbor, you just haven’t met her yet.”

“What’s your name? I’m Jack,” the boy introduces himself with a beaming smile.

You return his smile and offer to shake his hand. “Hello Jack,” you begin before telling him your name. “Were you playing soccer on this fine morning?”

He nods several times with a proud grin. “Yes, and we won!”

“Congratulations then,” you tell him with a small laugh.

“Dad’s our coach,” Jack notes casually as he glances up at the man.

So, he’s not only a single father and an FBI agent who travels a lot, he also takes the time to coach his son’s team? Why can’t he make things easy by being some weirdo, or a loser, or anything other than the perfect man? And why, why does he have to be so good looking? Alright, you seriously need a cold shower asap, otherwise you’ll end up lying in bed with your hand between your thighs as you think about him. The unholy thoughts in your head right now are bad enough already.

The elevator stops, the door opens, and the three of you step out without a word. When you come to a halt in front of your door, you reach down to pull the hoodie off in order to give it back, but he gently puts a hand on yours to stop you. “Keep it. It looks better on you anyway,” he points out with a boyish smile.

You hesitate. For one, his touch short-circuited your brain. And two, it’s just… it’s weird and it doesn’t make sense. But, eventually, you gather the strength to open your mouth. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then thank you,” you say with a smile. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Jack. And you…” you begin, turning to the boy's father whose name you still don’t know.

“Aaron,” he introduces himself. “See you later, I guess. And drink a lot of water, it will help.”

All you can do is nod. Every time he opens his mouth, you find something new to like about him.

The pair moves over to the door next to yours, and you can hear Jack as he looks up at his father and goes, “Dad, that’s your favorite hoodie, why did you give it to her?”

Aaron smiles down at him while he turns the key in the lock. “Maybe I’ll have a new favorite soon,” he replies, then opens the door and they disappear inside.

You blow out the air you’ve been holding back, finding it hard to believe. This man will be the death of you one day.

[skzdelf]

Now That We Dont Talk | Hwang Hyunjin

⭑ PAIRING: Hwang Hyujin x fem!reader

⭑ CONTENT: angst; ex-boyfriend!hyunjin uni au (based in taylor swift lyrics from the song “now that we don’t talk”)

⭑ SYNOPSIS: After a sudden breakup, university life goes on, but Hyunjin and you start to realize that distancing yourselves doesn’t always mean letting go of your feelings.

⭑ WORDCOUNT: 1,1k (1145)

I had to let him go, to move on with my life even if it hurt, even if it was hard to let go after everything we’d been through together.

After all, we don’t talk anymore.

But going on as if nothing had happened was difficult, especially with our friend groups being so interconnected. Anywhere I went, I ran the risk of seeing him, and it would be impossible not to remember everything.

The night before, there had been a party at the frat house—a party I chose not to attend. To my friends, I didn’t go because I had a headache, but the truth was I was scared of running into him, of facing him and not knowing how to react.

I heard from everybody the next day that Hyunjin had gone to the party. People parted as he walked by, as if he were splitting the Red Sea.

Had he been anxious to see if I’d show up?

Did he wonder why I wasn’t there?

Did he worry about me on his way home?

I guess those are questions I’ll never know the answers to—because we don’t talk anymore.

They said your hair was longer, shinier, and wavier than ever. You presented a whole new, radiant image of yourself. From the outside, it seemed like you were moving on, as if nothing had happened.

I was so glad I didn’t see you.

I miss everything about you. I miss our old routines, I miss the old you, our sweet nicknames, and our late-night outings. You didn’t have to change.

But I have no way of telling you any of that—nothing would come out of my mouth. I’d just stand there, speechless, like a statue about to crumble. But it doesn’t matter, because we don’t talk anymore.

The day we broke up, I called my mom. She said it was for the best. My tears wouldn’t stop falling; I didn’t want to let you go.

But I kept giving you more of myself, and it felt like you wanted me less. I don’t know if my feelings started to overwhelm you, but I no longer felt reciprocated, loved.

Everything reminds me of you—every song, every hallway in the university where we walked hand in hand. Every corner seemed to hold a piece of the story we once were.

I was walking, staring at the floor of the deserted university hallways, lost in thoughts of what we could have been, when I bumped into someone heading the opposite way.

To keep me from falling, the other person grabbed my arm, pulling me close to their warm, comforting chest.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t looking…” The words hung in the air as I looked up to see my “savior.”

It was true, everything they said about you—you looked so handsome. Your hair now brushed your shoulders, your features were serious, but you were glowing like never before. In front of me stood a Hyunjin I hadn’t seen look this dazzling since our first months together.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Are you alright?” he responded, his dark eyes locked onto mine. How could he hold my gaze after everything?

If I kept looking at him, if he kept touching me, I might melt right there in the hallway, so I pulled away from his grip, fixing my gaze on the lockers to my right.

“Yeah, thanks,” I replied shortly, dryly—a response I’d never imagined giving him, not when we were friends, let alone when we were together.

But no matter how much he wanted it, I couldn’t be his friend, and now I was paying the price for what I’d lost, despite holding onto it with all I had.

The many wounds on my heart wouldn’t let me be his friend.

“Please, look at me,” he said in a choked tone, releasing a sigh, almost like a lament, as if he regretted everything that had happened to bring us to this moment.

Would you tell your friends you were begging me just to look at you?

I looked him over from head to toe. On his finger, he still wore the rose-shaped ring I’d once given him.

Looking at his face again, his new look, new piercings in his ears—still as attractive as ever, but farther away than ever.

I couldn’t pretend this was platonic anymore because we were simply over—there was nothing left.

“I don’t like us being like this. I really wish we could be friends,” he said, giving me a closed-lip smile that I couldn’t return.

I couldn’t be his friend because friends aren’t supposed to have feelings for each other. Friends wouldn’t want to be near you all the time, to tell you how happy their heart feels just when you smile at them, touch them.

Tears of sadness welled in my eyes, and I blinked rapidly to try to make them disappear as quickly as possible. I didn’t want him to see me like this after only two weeks of being apart.

“I-I have to go, Hyunjin. I’m s-sorry.” I fled from that hallway, with his voice echoing my name in every corner, asking me to stop.

I had to remind myself of the way you drifted away until I left, until my heart couldn’t take your cold attitude anymore, until there was nothing left to break.

And it infuriated me to still love you after you tore me apart until I was ashes you then wanted to mold into a friendship.

I can’t be your friend, I won’t be your friend. I’m paying the price of losing you, of losing my heart, and how hard it is to stay standing now that you’re not by my side, now that we don’t talk.

It’s true that I no longer need to pretend to like the things you used to enjoy. But I have to admit, acid rock is a part of me now because of you.

I know I’ll become the strong girl you once knew again—a girl with a heart full of love to give, a girl who never expected such indifference from someone who once promised to give her the moon.

I guess maybe I’m better off now that we don’t talk.

The only path to regain my dignity became a mystery, wrapped up like you were when you pursued me.

When you chased me out of love, and when you chased me today in the deserted hallway, begging for friendship because you still wanted me in your life somehow.

It’s a mystery to me what Hyunjin felt or wanted from me after I left, because I could no longer read him like before. But I guess things have to be this way, now that we don’t talk.

Nowadays that I ignore your presence around me, now that I’ve blocked your number, now that at least I can look you in the eyes.

A/N: dividers are not mine!!

[cakerybakery]

Oh fuck. Rabbit cowboy Adam. That would be hot.

Adam as a desert cottontail hybrid human/animal, herding cattle meets the hurt outlaw rattlesnake naga Lucifer.

Lucifer was injured trying to rob a train because his daughter is sick. Charlie needs an operation. Adam thinks about his kits back home and tells Lucifer, that he’ll pay for it but only if Lucifer earns the money to pay him back by working on the ranch.

Lucifer and the newly better Charlie come to live with Adam and his litter of boys.

When the sheriff comes by Adam lies through his teeth, “Louis the rattler has worked for me for a long time, Michael. Just been a while since you come around.” They’re old friends, but had a bit of a falling out after Eve passed and Michael made a move that Adam didn’t reciprocate.

Adam rather likes Lucifer, he’s a sweet man that adores his daughter. It’s hard not to fall for him.

Time moves on and Lucifer feels like Michael is always watching him. Asking questions that seem pointed and Lucifer has trouble answering, grateful each time Adam saves his scales.

It’s proving hard for Lucifer to not fall for the large cottontail. He’s not used to folks looking out for him.

Lucifer isn’t as clean and clear from trouble as he let on though. You don’t rob a train by yourself. The sins could be the other robbers, tracking Lucifer down they have a classic western movie stand off.

Oooh Cain, Abel, and Seth could be over protective of Charlie, who they think of as just a little girl, forgetting she has venom in her fangs. They could have their own subplot where they leave Charlie out or their adventures because they think she’s weak and won’t be safe.

The sins are holding the kids hostage. Lucifer’s has always been a bit of a push over, not wanting trouble, not until Charlie got sick. As a rattlesnake most people are afraid of him so the sins used that fear to rob people, but Lucifer himself was easy to push around that they constantly stiffed him on his share. And he couldn’t leave or find legitimate work because now he was a wanted man.

He tried running with the whole take from the train robbery, but was injured by the sins and lost the money before Adam found him.

The sins are overconfident that they can force Lucifer to do what they want. What they don’t expect is for little Charlie to sink her fangs into Satan’s arm and free herself, nor the rattle from the shadows as Lucifer uses his speed and venom to take down the rest.

Lucifer doesn’t like hurt or killing but he’d do anything to protect the kids.

Adam has to call on the sheriff. Lucifer’s just asked that Adam take care of Charlie for him.

Michael listens to the story, how this dangerous wanted gang came looking for their missing member, Lucifer, and the money he stole. How they held the kids hostage and Lu killed them (leaving Charlie out even though it was pretty obvious), and Michael looks everything over and goes, “well, looks like self defence to me, Louis.“ he’s not a bad guy, he knows who Lucifer is, but he also knows Lucifer isn’t the bad guy everyone thinks he is since he’s been watching Lu for months. Can’t judge a person by their scales. Besides, Adam’s a good judge of character, Michael trusts his judgement. If he trusts the outlaw with his kids, home, and heart, then Lucifer’s worth the trust.

If he had knees, hearing that Michael was letting him off, would have brought Lucifer to them.

When things are cleaned up, the boys think Charlie is pretty amazing and invite her out to play with them, figuring she can handle it after all.

As the kids go out to explore, Lucifer’s apologizes for not telling Adam. He didn’t think they’d be looking for him. Not with how Adam found him.

Adam asks if Lucifer has any other secrets.

Lucifer takes the opportunity to confess he’s got a bit of a crush on Adam.

Adam laughs, “not much of a secret. If one more person from town asks when the wedding is before you ask me out, I’ll scream.”

“How long-?”

“Hmm, I’d say that night we were camping out to chase off the coyotes.”

“That was months ago!”

“You weren’t subtle.” Adam chuckling as his ears twitch, listen for the kids and trouble even when talking to Lucifer. “Before I let you court me though, anything else I should know?”

“Umm… did I tell you my ex-wife is the desert queen?”

“The outlaw?”

Lucifer nods.

“Well, what’s one more body in the ground if she comes around?” Adam pulls Lucifer into a kiss. “I like spring weddings and Christmas engagements. Best find me a pretty ring.”

[avifaunaa]

Natasha + R rambles [ htwswy ]

Authors Note: I’m a little tired from posting that monster of a chapter for Rio yesterday — so until I regain some brain juice back I’ll share some little cutsie rambles about Nat/R from the htwswy-verse! I know you guys love this fic a lot so if you want to know more about it please know my anons are open!

Masterlist

Summary: N/A | rambles

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Content Warnings: a tiny mention of self-harm, but other than that none! Mostly humor, fluff, the good stuff.

• Natasha and you probably get another cat not long after you guys get super duper serious — Liho was so pissed

• Out of the two of you, believe it or not, Natasha’s likely less likely to start an argument and more likely to find a solution to one.

• It actually took a while for Yelena to warm up to you despite whatever we think we see in chapter 1. Natasha is her sister and nobody is good enough for her sister until she can decide they are. “A while” is actually six months — making the offhand Yelena-like comments even when she agreed to your attempts to reach out for hangouts to watch Studio Ghibli movies.

• When she does decide you’re perfect for Natasha [ “I’m glad you approve,” you told the blonde blandly as you sat across from her at breakfast, oatmeal untouched and eyes uncaring, “but we’ve been dating for a year now.” She pointedly ignored you, as she usually does. ] she goes to Natasha herself and says so.

• Natasha wasn’t amused.

• Natasha who doesn’t seek out cuddling at bedtime immediately due to her fear of what could happen if she’s tangled up with you during a night terror. Short of flinging you into the wall and making Tony pay a hefty repair fee, you weren’t sure there was much.

• She admired the size of your balls, honestly, considering she could kill you.

• You laughed at her despite the severity of the situation she felt — whereas you didn’t. You didn’t think she’d be able to before waking up.

• It turns out you were right — she always ended up awake with you somehow touching her. On top of her chest, curled up against her, spooning her, spooning you.

• When Natasha sat you down and told you the full story about her history — from the Red Room until the defeat of Thanos — you didn’t seem to know how to take it. But you did know how to respond to her opening up: you took care of her. You disappeared only to return with a dangling Liho in your arms and plopped her into Nat’s lap while you gathered various items for a lazy day on the couch.

—> “I need you to say something,” Natasha finally admitted after you hadn’t spoken about it for a few minutes, television murmuring in the background as she stroked Liho’s soft fur. “Just tell me what you’re thinking?”

—> You lifted your head off her shoulder to look directly at her. “I think,” you started slowly, picking at your leggings, “that you’re one of the bravest people I have ever met and the good you do in the world despite the amount of wrong it has done to you is a feat that I will always admire and love you for.”

—> It was a beautiful response — and not an “I’m so sorry” to be found in there either. She kissed you just to tell you how much it meant to her. That her past didn’t change how you in her eyes. As your partner, your fiercest protector, and your best friend.

• Natasha Romanoff who comes home busted up form missions and you hackle like a cat and fuss over her, poking and prodding each wound, demanding to know where they came from and “why the fuck did you come see me before going to Cho?” and only when did she notice you were in near tears did she stop coming to you before going to Cho.

• Natasha who finishes trying the coffee menu at her normal spot and approaches you about how it makes her feel.

—> You bring a list of suggestions for other local places in the city to start going to

—> It’s cute how she worries about never going back — but you make a promise that for every new place you try you always go to the usual spot once a week

• Natasha who notices your ticks and understands when you work as a way to self-soothe or self-harm.

• This causes her to visit more frequently and break the streak of the period you work so you can go to bed, or eat some food, take a shower — whatever it takes to get you away from the lab.

• Natasha who introduces you fully to the team. She looks entirely too proud of herself, eyes so lovely and soft, and you as Thor slams down the hammer and dares you to play the game nobody ( but Steve Rogers, but Thor conveniently leaves that out ) can win but him.

—> Natasha comforts you when you go :( after ten long minutes of attempting to peel that stupid hammer off the table while everyone eggs you on, knowing full well it won’t happen

—> “It was not a game you were excepted to win — none of us can,” she assured you.

I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH CHAT

[in-hos-wife]

Request: Perhaps a little something of Sang-woo finding the reader after the players vote to end the games, before everyone returns? And he almost chickens out and doesn't approach them, but then they see him and run up to him? lowkey need him to have a soft moment, knowing what comes in those games *sobs*

Together in hell

Cho Sang-woo x reader

Summery: After the players vote to leave, reader sits on a park bench to calm their head. Sang-woo see’s them and is conflicted on what to do should he leave should he talk to them. While he’s sitting there thinking of what to do he hears his name and see’s you running over to him

Word count: 685

Tw: ooc maybe. I don’t know if I wrote his character right at all, mention of illness and death, idk if I missed something let me know

You're sitting on a bench thinking about everything, the game you just played and the people who died. The only reason your shaking body made it out alive. Is because you saw a guy hiding behind another man talking to a guy about staying behind people so the doll thing won’t see you moving, so you got behind him you hoped he wouldn’t notice thinking he’d move leaving you dead but when he saw you he didn’t he stayed in front of you till you both got to the finish line you thanked him when you guys got to the room that you woke up in and you both had a small conversation that’s how you learned his name Cho sang-woo and you told him yours, when it was time to vote you voted to leave and sang-woo voted to stay which upset you but you don’t know him all you know is he saved you and he’s been kind to you, he’s also very handsome and tall but you didn’t think of that much. Right now as you sit there you don’t realize sang-woo was nearby. Sang-woo was walking when he saw you and he froze, you looking at you hand clearly thinking about something. He remembers how you smiled at him when you both passed the line in red light green light and how softly you spoke when you thanked him but what he doesn’t understand is why you were there in that he’ll hole in the first place, he know you know why he was there it was broadcasted on that screen but he didn’t know how someone like you could end up in that place, maybe he could go ask you and talk to you but what if you didn’t want to talk to him or what if he scares you. His thoughts are a mess, as he stood there you look up and finally see him standing there frozen.

Before he could think anymore he hears your voice “Sang-woo! Sang-woo!” He looks over as you run over to him smiling “I didn’t think I’d see you again. Do you live close??” He softly smiles and nods “what about you?” You look up at him “kinda I just like the park” you walk back to the bench and tap the seat next to you and he sits down “well may I ask you a question mister?” He looks at you and nods “why did you want to stay?” He looked at you a pauses for a moment “I need the money to pay my debt I made some bad choices and to loans on my moms work and her house and I want to pay the debt that I put her place in” he looks down at the ground in shame and you put your hand on his shoulder “I bet you’ll get the money even if it means going back…” that makes him smile “what about you why where you in that hell hole in the first place” you look at him then look at the ground fidgeting with your fingers “my mother was ill and she ended up passing her medical bills are a lot of money and I haven’t had the money to pay them” he look at you and thinks for a moment, then he hugs you and you hug him back you both stay there for a moment just hugging he thinks of how small you are in his arms and he kept holding you till you let go “thank you I…I didn’t know I needed that” you stand up and write your number and a notepad you keep on you. “Here, so we can keep in touch sang-woo” you smile at him and hand him the paper, he looks down at your hand and takes your number “thank you” he smile and you both goes your separate ways, when he woke up back in the games he looked around he’s sees Gi-hun, ail and you and his faced drop. He decided he’s gonna try his best to keep you safe as much as he can.

Tagged

@pixiepipedreams

[taelortot]

The Sun and the Moon

Part zero: Introduction (four screenshots and drabble)

Characters are in college!!!!!

Megumi Fushiguro was not known to be the most patient person in the world. Growing irritated with those who took up too much of the allotted time he allowed for. This would apply to basically everything— getting ready for the day, deciding on what to order at restaurants, perusing the grocery store when only going in for one item— and the list goes on and on. His patience was limited, growing thinner and thinner as the days passed. Megumi was also not known to be the sweetest man in the world, no no no. Quite the opposite really. Snapping at those who interrupted him, growing angry with people who got off task, and frustrated when no one could pay attention for more than 5 minutes.

That applied to everyone. Everyone he’s ever interacted with his whole life. Everyone who has looked his way.

Everyone except y/n.

It baffled his friends. Seriously throwing them through a loop that the man who yelled at them for speaking over him, was now allowing this petite girl to interrupt him to say the clouds look pretty.

“They do, baby” he would smile, turning his full attention to his girlfriend, taking in her beauty as she looked towards the sky.

Huffs and sighs coming from his friends, eyerolls and arms crossing as Megumi allowed his girlfriend to point out little shapes she saw in the puffy white clouds.. instead of continuing to discuss the plan for the mission they were going on in a few days. When his attention eventually returns to where it should have been, his hands always find their way to the girl who is sitting as patiently as she can. Holding her hand in his, calloused thumb brushing over the pretty promise ring he purchased a few months ago. Or one hand on the back of her neck, fingertips massaging her skin, running his fingers through her soft vanilla scented hair.

It wasn’t always like this. It took time. It took time to realize she was always going to be 20 minutes late no matter how early she started getting ready because— “I couldn’t decide between this pink skirt or the other one” or “I couldn’t find my wedges so I had to change my whole outfit to match these ones” and Megumis favorite “I lost my cherry lip gloss that you love so much so I had to find it, doesn’t it taste good?”

So he learned to be patient with her. Only because y/n is hands down the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. AND, she always gave him road head when they are running late to make it up to him.

Oh and he’s so fucking in love with her it’s stupid.

So fucking in love with the vanilla scented girl.

Sweet and syrupy. Sticky and warm. Like sugar cookies and waiting for Santa to come down the chimney.

Giving Megumi a taste at the childhood y/n insists he should have had.

At first Megumi couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that y/n was definitely not all there—In a constant state of carefree living. At first, he truly wondered if she was dropped on her head a few times—only because the shit that came from her mouth were absurd most of the time.

“Do you think if I pet raccoon I could train him to dance?”

“I really wish I could see an alien and ask it if they like ice cream— oh my god what if they don’t even have ice cream? Should I buy some just in case they visit me tonight?”

“Do you think your puppies can smell when I’m sad?”

And that list goes on and on and on. Mostly consisting of questions Megumi has now learned how to answer. Even if the answers don’t make sense.

"I'm pretty sure he could learn to dance, sweet girl."

"What flavor do you think they would like, baby?"

"I think they can sense your emotions, pretty girl"

When I say it took time for Megumi to really understand y/n, I mean it took TIME. But, after finding out the girl has severe adhd, it all made sense. Now he can sit back and enjoy that funny things she does.

As well as relishing in the comfort she gives him. It's like no other. How understanding she is, how she cares for him, how she takes care of him in ways he cannot comprehend. No one has ever taken the time to understand him, to REALLY understand him. Growing fiercely protective of his baby, keeping her safe from those who wish to tear her down in any way they could.

"you're not stupid, pretty girl. they are just jealous of how beautiful you are"

Now... that's always a touchy topic for y/n. Sure, the girl may be a bit ditzy and unaware-- but, why would she need to have a brain when Megumi could do all the thinking for her? A word Megumi heard a lot was 'bimbo', a word he had to look up after some frat guy called y/n that. And... while that might be correct, Megumi didn't see anything wrong with that. Well, the only issue he had was that every person who saw y/n sexualized her. Other than that, he had no issue with how naive and attractive she is. Always making sure to grab a handful of her tits whenever any male looked at her chest a little too long. Earning a giggle and a-- "Gumi, that tickles!"

God she was so innocent. And soooo in love with her boyfriend of 1 year.

There was something about the way she looked at him. A twinkle in her eye or something. It started from when she first made eye contact with him, as if the word stopped and he was all that mattered.

As if he's the one who drags the stars out of the dark every night.

As if he is the reason the moon shines so bright in the dead of night.

Or maybe Megumi was the moon to her. Illuminating the dark to guide her home, keeping her safe from what lurks in the shadows.

Like the way the moon influences the tides with its gravitational pull, Megumi pulled her in whatever direction was best for her. And no matter what, with Megumi by her side, she knew there would always be another bight night.

Another night to sleep safely.

Another night to hear the owl's hoot.

Another night to stay up late talking to the love of her life.

Just another night to be with him.

His little innocent girl— well mostly innocent. The things he’s done to her would surly send them both to hell.

But!! We can discuss that later.

Anyway, there isn’t one thing Megumi wouldn’t do for y/n. He would go to the ends of the earth just to see that pretty smile. While he remained standing with a cool and calm exterior, his body vibrates when he sees his girl. His chest on fire when he sees her smile. Oh god, and don’t get him started on her laugh. When he dies, he hopes that’s the last thing he hears.

It’s like on a semi cloudy day, the way the sun peaks out from behind the clouds, shining rays bursting through to create the most elegant shadows. Or when the sun shines down on painted glass, a mosaic of colors dancing on the sidewalk.

Maybe she’s just the sun.. maybe y/n is Megumis' sun. The thing that keeps him warm, the thing he needs every single day to survive, the light in his dark heart, reminding him that there will always be another day.

Another day to see the sun.

Another day to hear bird chirping.

Another day to be see the love of his life.

Another day to kiss her.

Another day to hold her.

Just another day with y/n.

taglist: @vellichor01 @loveyislost @gradmacoco @koreluvsspring @ersharyzst

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (36) finale*

Happy finale day everyone! I cannot believe this day is here, this story has been my baby for so long and now that it's out, I'm feeling very sentimental. Thank you everyone for your continued support for this story, it means so much to me. I will more stuff coming out very soon so stay tuned!! (also, if you have any specific requests for ANY Slytherin guy, please message me!)

enjoy this for the last time <3 ALSO: reminder that the * in the title means this chapter contains explicit content!!

-----------

You spin around, the potion still in your hand, to see Mattheo not even a foot behind you, “where have you been?”

“Not important, what’s important is that you are about to buy love potion when I’m already in love with you” He shrugs.

You decide to let the topic go as Pansy starts aweing at you, “what if I told you it was for Pansy and her date?”

“Her date?” Mattheo asks, walking up to you, your chests touching.

You look up to him, “oh by the way we’re going on a double date with Pansy and Draco” 

Mattheo doesn’t break his eye contact with you. At this point, your lips are just inches away from connecting, “congrats Pansy”

She laughs lightly as Blaise and Theo walk up, “you guys are disgusting” Blaise states, making a puking noise in the process.

Mattheo turns his head to look at Blaise, “fuck off man” he says before turning back and grabbing your chin, kissing you.

“Oh bloody hell” Draco exclaims as he joins the group, rolling his eyes.

You back away, “Hi Draco” you smirk.

He looks between you and Pansy and rolls his eyes again before you laugh again.

You realize the love potion bottle is still in your hands so you quickly put it back down on the shelf before Mattheo whispers, “glad you know better”

You turn back around, the group now paying no attention to the two of you, “But do I?” 

He smirks, “I mean…I could remind you if you want” he shrugs.

“Uh hey guys?” you speak up. The group’s attention shifts back to you as you hold Mattheo’s hand, “we’re gonna go”

“Why?” Blaise asks.

Mattheo winks at them as you rush out, grabbing his arm and pulling him behind you.

“Disgusting!” Blaise yells, the rest of the group laughing.

You and Mattheo practically run back to the castle, heading straight for his dorm. 

He pushes you up against the door after he shuts it and starts to kiss your neck, holding your hands captive above your head.

“I need you right now” you moan as he kisses your collarbone, sending a chill down your spine. 

“Patience” he coos, his hot breath lingers.

You pout as he backs away until he starts to unbuckle his belt. As you watch him hungrily, you pull your tank top over your arms and throw it to the side. He watches you as you unclip your bra behind your back before pulling it off, leaving your top half exposed.

He starts to unbutton his shirt as you pull your shorts off, the panties coming off along with them. You look at him, fully exposed. He stands just a few feet away, his shirt half unbuttoned as he places his hand over his chest, taking you in. 

“God you’re beautiful” his eyes soften, just looking at you. How did you get so lucky?

You walk up to him as he pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around your back, lifting you up to him. 

“I love you” you say softly, getting lost in his eyes.

“I love you”he replies, using one of his hands to hold your chin before pulling you in and kissing you. 

As the kiss intensifies, he leads you backwards until you hit the end of the bed and fall backwards. You prop yourself up with your shoulders as he stands there, pulling his pants and boxers off. He puts a condom on, always prepared.

He climbs back on top of you, kissing your stomach and working his way up until he reaches your lips again. 

You feel him go down inside you, forcing a groan out of you as you squeeze your eyes shut. You grab onto the sheets around you as he picks up his pace just a little bit.

“Fuck” he mutters as he goes deeper inside you. 

“Holy shit” you cry out, opening your eyes and watching him.

You can tell he’s close, he falters just a little bit in his movements, “Matty I’m almost there”

“Cum for me baby” he breathes out, slowing his pace even more, agonizing you until you feel your high. You desperately grab his arm that’s propped up by you.

Only a second later do you feel him finish before he pulls outs, breathing heavily and lightly sweating.

He wipes you off with a towel before he climbs onto the bed.

“I missed you today” he coos as he leaves traces of his kiss on your collarbone, propped up on top of you.

“I missed you too...” you let out a breath, “you disappeared on me today”

“I know, I’m sorry” he breathes out, his curly hair brushing the side of your face.

“Where were you?” you ask, curious to what he was doing the whole trip to Hogsmeade. 

“It’s a surprise,” he whispers in your ear.

“You know I hate surprises” you smirk and tilt your head as you touch his cheek, forcing him to look at you.

He looks you in the eye for a second, with those very same brown doe eyes that you fell for, before he gets up and walks over to where his pants are on the floor, He picks them up and searches in the pocket for a moment before finding what he wants.

He pulls out a small jewelry box and hands it to you, “I was getting this for you.” You sit up on the bed and grab the small box from his grip.

You look down at the box before looking back up to him as he sits down on the bed, “Mattheo…”

“Open it” he motions to you.

You open the box to find a small ring, matching the one he wears. The one from the greenhouse.

“Are you serious?” you smile up at him, “Mattheo this is…” you were speechless.

“Deadly.” he grins, “I know you liked mine” he shrugs.

You take it out of the box and place it on your right ring finger as he continues, “I had this nice dinner planned and everything but you are so stubborn”

You smile lightly before looking down at the ring. Your smile fades a little bit, Mattheo instantly noticing, “hey what’s wrong?”

“Do you think we’ll make it?” you ask, “I mean like after Hogwarts. I never, ever want to lose you” 

“Woah, mi amor, you will never lose me, ok?” he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, “we’ve been through way too much this year to not make it”

“Yeah all because of that stupid closet” you laugh.

“It’s not so stupid anymore is it?” he smiles.

“Not at all” you smile in return.

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem @hatakemrs @swamp-box @iamdnb @cindyss @gillybear17 @princessluvssleep @feistyfox47 @malydiavsss @schaebickel @anime-tomicfox