#on top of that i can t help but spend my time convincing myself that people don't want anything to do with m e

[selfnss]

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb - Part Four

Note - Happy Wednesday, thank you all for your kind comments on the last chapter I hope you all like this one too 💙 and as always feedback is appreciated 😉

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Master List

Mason sent through the address within the hour and you had a quick nosey at where it was. The house was huge, on a private road surrounded by other huge houses, and it was a far cry from you little one bed flat.

You’d told yourself you weren’t going, but it didn’t stop you from thinking about what you might have to wear if you did go, remembering you’d bought a cute lacey corset top to wear when you went to Leeds but you’d ended up taking something else.

You carried on with life, not hearing from Mason again until Friday lunchtime when you felt your phone buzz as a text came through.

You read the text over a few times, guilt washing over you at the fact he wanted to see you and you weren’t planning on being there. Every interaction with this boy seemed to chip away at you and you were soon texting your best friend Freya to help you.

No more than three minutes later and your phone was ringing, a cute picture of the pair of you filling your screen and you smiled as you picked up.

‘Hey frey’

‘Who have I got to kill?’ She said sternly and you burst out laughing at her protectiveness.

‘No one yet, I just need to rant at you about something and no matter what you feel, I need you to tell me I’m right okay? cause that’s what friends do’

‘Hit me with it’ she quipped and you started on your long rant about how you’d ended up here. You hadn’t mentioned to her when you’d made it back to her flat about getting stuck in a lift with Mason so she was shocked when you gave her the low down of what happened that night but she let you rant how you hadn’t managed to shake him off and now you were contemplating seeing him again that night.

Freya knew you like the back of her hand. You’d been best friends since you were five and she knew what you were thinking before you’d even thought it, so to hear you now taking like this about a boy shocked her. But she was secretly happy for you, not having heard you speak this way in a long time.

‘Well, I’m gonna have to go against girl code here, babe’ she told you and you huffed in annoyance.

‘No no no, you promised to tell me I was right’

‘And any other time I would, but come on, y/n. When was the last time you took a bit of a risk and let someone in?’

‘That’s the point, I don’t. But he’s getting under my skin and I barely know him’

‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘At the weekend. I don’t know Frey I just feel safer texting him cause then I can convince myself he’s not real’

‘So you don’t want to see him again?’ She asked and you took a second before you answered even though you knew the answer straight away.

‘No, I do’ you breathed and you could hear her chuckle down the line.

‘So do it. Doll yourself up and go see your man’

‘He’s not my man’ you groaned before you both burst into a fit of giggles.

The rest of the day was spent finishing up work before ordering yourself some food. You were in two minds about tonight and Masons message still sat unanswered in you phone but there was no way you were responding now. You’d just hopped out of the shower when something inside you snapped, then and there deciding you were going to go. It’s not everyday you get invited to a fancy house party with gorgeous footballers, so why not make the most of it.

You quickly got dressed in a pair of baggy jeans before throwing on some heels and the corset top to show off your figure. You didn’t spend too long on your hair and make up but by the time you’d made it to Masons friends house it was around 10:45pm.

As soon as you got out of the Uber you wanted to crawl back inside and go home but he drove off pretty quickly, leaving you on your own to walk up the drive to the door. No one was outside but you could tell there was something going on from where you were and you hoped the doorbell was loud enough for someone to hear.

In the end it didn’t matter though, the front door opening and a guy around your age walking out looking down at his phone, doing a double take as he heard your shoes on the gravel path. You gave him a friendly smile and you noticed him give you a once over before smiling back.

‘You okay?’ He questioned and you nodded shyly at him. ‘Do I know you?’

‘Uh no, my names y/n. Mason invited me’ you told him and his face instantly changed to a knowing look as he smiled wider at you.

‘Ah, I was beginning to think he’d made you up’ the man laughed as you hugged your arms around yourself. ‘I’m Kai, by the way. Come on let’s get you inside, I can take you to him’ he offered and you smiled before following him in.

He guided you through the impressive house with his hands on your shoulders, weaving you in between a sea of gorgeous looking people until you got to the kitchen where Mason stood with his back to you, slightly off to the side of a group of guys who all looked at you as you walked in but Mason was too focused on filling his cup up to notice you come in.

‘Hey Mount, I’ve got a delivery for you’ Kai shouted over to him and he turned his head slowly before he realised it was you, a look of relief washing over his features as he smiled over at you. His drink was quickly forgotten about as he made his way over almost instantly, ignoring the giggles and jibes from the boys behind him as he came closer.

‘Y/n? I didn’t think you were coming’ he told you as he approached, Kai now having moved from behind you to stand with the other boys and you gulped down a nervous lump as you looked up at Mason.

You hated the fact he looked so handsome, even dressed in a simple plain black T-shirt and jeans but you’d noticed he’d had his hair cut since the last time you’d seen him last week and you willed your cheeks not to flush. His dimples were on full show as his eyes creased at the sides of his face, letting you know he was giving you a real smile with his eyes rather than one just out of politeness.

‘I wasn’t planning on it but, here I am I guess’ you smiled and he laughed lightly at you.

‘Well I’m glad you’re here’ he beamed before a chorus of oooing and ahhing came from the boys, teasing Mason but he was quick to give them the finger. ‘Shut up dickheads, come on let’s get you a drink’ he told you before leading you out into the utility room. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Surprise me’ you told him and he laughed before turning away from you to grab a cup and a bottle. ‘So is this Kai’s house?’

‘No, Ben’s. I’ll introduce you later’ he murmured whilst passing you a red cup. You gave him a small thank you before taking a sip, unsure of what it was he gave you but it was sweet and alcoholic so you didn’t care. ‘I mean it though, I’m really glad you’re here’

‘Yeah?’

‘Definitely’ he confirmed as he walked closer, stopping just in front of you with your chests almost touching. You noticed what looked like to be a spec of fluff on his top by his neck and you reached out to remove it causing him to hold his breath and even though he was quiet, you were so close that you heard him. Your eyes wondered up to meet his and you noticed how close the pair of you were, lips only a few inches apart as his breath fanned your face.

You broke eye contact with him before taking a nervous sip, not feeling like your usual confident self around him once again as you took a step away from him.

‘So where are these cute boys you promised me’ you asked with a smile as you turned and made your way out, laughing to yourself as you heard him scoff behind you.

‘I never promised you that. Plus there’s only one and he’s right here’

‘Oh yeah? Can you point him out to me? I can’t quite see him’ You teased, turning to glance at him and you could tell he was getting a bit flustered.

‘Ah there you are’ you heard suddenly from a familiar voice and you turned to see Kai was now standing in-front of you with a pretty brunette on his arm. You felt Mason stop right behind you, his body heat almost making you shiver and you were wondering if he was going to reach out and hold you in some way but he seemed to be keeping his hands to himself. ‘Y/n, this is my girlfriend, Sophia’ he told you and she smiled warmly at you. ‘I thought it might be nice for you to hang out with another girl rather than be stuck with him all night’ he joked and you laughed as you felt Mason shake his head behind you.

The usual uneasy feeling you got around other girls at parties didn’t seem to be present as she smiled at you and held her hand out which you took almost instantly, thankful you could get away from Mason for a bit and focus again but you knew he’d be lurking so you couldn’t miss him too much.

‘Come on, let’s leave the boys. I need you to tell me where you got this outfit from’ she asked you as she pulled you away. You chanced a look back at Mason who was pouting a little bit as Kai dragged him back into the kitchen so you sent him a wink before disappearing.

Sophia was a lot of fun, so fun in fact you seemed to be forgetting your rule of not having anymore friends than you already have. You both seemed to be bad influences on each other, encouraging the other to drink more than they could handle until you were dancing on Bens coffee table with a couple of the other girls.

Mason managed to keep an eye on you at all times, whenever you looked in his direction he was already looking at you and at first he seemed embarrassed but as the night wore on the shyness left him and he held your eye contact a bit longer. Sending you a cheeky smile or a wink.

Seeing him around all these people he knew made you notice was how touchy he seemed to be with everyone. No matter who he was with he would put his hands on their shoulders or lean into them as he laughed and you were brought back to the thoughts you had the other day where you wondered why he kept his hands to himself around you when he seemed comfortable enough to lounge over everyone else. You weren’t sure why it was bothering you so much but when he eventually came over to join your group you noticed it even more.

He sat next to you, his arm around the back of the sofa behind you but his skin never touched yours. You subconsciously leaned back into him after a while and he took this to mean he could put his arm around you properly. You only realised when he lent his cheek on the top of you head as he was laughing at someone’s joke what position you were in and you felt yourself tense up. He must of felt something too, slowly rubbing his thumb over your skin and you were surprised about how much it relaxed you. The pair of you sat and laughed at Kai and Sophia bickering but still no words were shared between you. You were racking your brain to think of something when he placed his lips to you ear.

‘Are you okay? Can I get you anything?’ He whispered so only you could hear and you turned to face him, again surprised about how close your faces were. You gulped as you averted your eyes down and shook your head, nervous again and you shut your eyes to make it go away. He avoided your eyes for the next half an hour and when everyone dispersed, he gently slid out from behind you and made a beeline for the stairs.

Kai and Sophia left soon after, and once you’d said your goodbyes you wondered around trying to find Mason again but he’d seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. You wondered if he’d seen you tonight realised he didn’t want you around anymore after your constantly changing attitude but you willed yourself not to think about it as you wondered around upstairs looking for a bathroom.

When you left, you almost immediately ran into someone, apologising as they held you steady and you looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes.

‘I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going’ you explained but he just shook his head as he laughed.

‘It’s fine, honestly’ he told you as he straightened himself up. ‘You’re y/n right?’

‘Depends on who’s asking’

‘I’m Ben’ he laughed and your eyes went wide as you realised this was his house.

‘Oh right, sorry about standing on your coffee table’ you joked and he just shrugged.

‘Don’t worry about it. Are you alright? You feel a bit cold’

‘I’m fine, don’t worry I should of dressed a bit more appropriately’ you laughed and he quickly disappeared behind a door before coming back with a black hoodie and offering it to you. ‘Oh no, I’ll be fine honestly’

‘Please, I insist. Can’t have my guests being cold’ he told you and you eventually took it from him. ‘If you’re looking for Mason, he’s just in there’ he winked, nodding to a door just up the hall before he made his way back downstairs. You quickly pulled the hoodie over your head before adjusting your hair and making your way over to the door Ben said Mason was behind. You gave it light knock and you heard him softly tell you to come in so you opened the door and popped your head round the side.

The bedroom he was in was dimly lit, and he was sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand as it was plugged in to charge. A small smile spread across his lips as he realised it was you and he nodded for you to come in. You stepped inside but lent your back up against the door and he gave you a funny look at your sudden change of clothing.

‘What are you wearing?’

‘Oh this?’ You questioned, pulling at the strings. ‘Ben gave it to me. Said I felt cold’

‘Why was he feeling you?’ He probed, his eyebrow’s drawing together in what you assumed was jealousy and you let out a breath before stumbling over to sit next to him on the bed.

‘I bumped into him when I came out the loo. What are you doing in here?’ You inquired and his face relaxed slightly as he put his phone down.

‘I’m staying here tonight, was just putting my phone on charge and having a break for a few minutes’ he told you and you nodded as you looked around the room. ‘Are you having a good night?’

‘Yeah, Sophia seems nice. Are you?’

‘Yeah, but I was hoping to speak to you more than I have’ he told you, bumping his shoulder with yours lightly and you let out a little giggle.

‘The nights still young’ you told him, checking the time on your phone to see it was nearing 2am and you grimaced slightly. ‘Or not. I didn’t realise it was that late. I’ll have to head off soon’

‘Wait, don’t go’ he pleaded ‘I’ve barely seen you’

‘It’s late, Mason. Plus we sat together downstairs for over an hour and you didn’t hardly say a word to me’ you pouted and he gulped as he’d realised you’d noticed. ‘Why haven’t you? Have I done something wrong? I know I can be difficult but I’m trying’ You told him softly, the alcohol seeming to make you a bit vulnerable and honest and you watched his face drop as he realised you were a bit upset about it.

‘No of course not, I’m so sorry. I don’t know I guess I was just a bit nervous’ he confessed and your eyes dropped to your lap. ‘Why don’t you stay here? With me? Ben won’t care. I’ll sleep on the floor or something just please don’t go’ he pleaded and you were stunned at how quickly he was able to wear you down. ‘I promise I’ll get you home tomorrow early-‘

‘Mason-‘

‘Please, I’m not letting you go home alone this time of night. I’ll even go bunk with Ben if I have to or sleep on the sofa but I’m not letting you leave’

‘Fine I’ll stay’ you cut him off with a quiet laugh and he relaxed instantly, half wanting to keep him happy and the other half wanting to get your head down as the alcohol was wearing off and you were tired.

‘Thank you’ he smiled and you were about to reply when a white paper bag with your name on it on-top of the chest of drawers caught your attention.

‘What’s that?’ You asked he he followed your line of sight, blushing and stuttering as he caught onto what you were looking at. ‘Is that for me?’

‘Well it’s got your name on it’ he laughed as he nodded over to it. ‘Open it’

You walked over to find a long pink box inside and once it was out of the bag you opened it to find the poshest looking chocolate chip cookies you’d ever seen. You turned to face him with a confused expression and he was blushing furiously now.

‘You said the other week when I got you the brownie you would of preferred a cookie’ he explained, walking up to you, and your breath got caught int your throat.

Without thinking about it, you threw your arms around his shoulders and buried your face into his neck. He seemed shocked at first, but after a second he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his body even further.

‘That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me’ you whispered and you felt his body shake as he let out a little chuckle at your words.

‘It’s just some cookies, Y/n’

‘I know’ you uttered and Mason squeezed you a tiny bit harder. ‘Thank you. Why did you bring them here though? I wasn’t even sure I was coming’

‘I know, I just hoped you would I guess’ he spoke into your shoulder and you felt yourself melt before you slowly pulled away from each other. He kept his hands planted on your hips as he tried to catch your eyes but you keep them down, not wanting him to see how vulnerable you felt right now. ‘I think most people are gone, we can get ready for bed if you want’ he told you and you nodded shyly. ‘Just wait here, I’ll go grab you some bits’

He was soon back with his arms full of supplies. Bottles of water and painkillers plus some wipes and a toothbrush from Bens box of spares that apparently he kept at his house in case of emergencies and you we’re pretty sure you knew what that meant.

‘You can borrow something of mine to sleep in’ Mason told you and he was quick you take his shirt off and hand it over once you’d agreed. You tried as hard as possible not to look at his naked torso but you were only human, however Mason seemed to be sculpted by gods. Your eyes automatically landed on the little mole on his tummy and you got the overwhelming urge to kiss it.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, not wanting him to catch you looking so you took yourself off to the bathroom to get changed. Mason shirt was longer on you than you thought, coming down to about mid thigh and you felt yourself come over all warm as his smell consumed you.

You quickly wiped your makeup off before stealing some toothpaste from the wash bag on the side that you presumed was Masons before joining him back in the room.

He was now changed, dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of joggers and your heart sunk as you watched him make himself a bed up on the floor.

‘Mason?’ You called quietly and he whipped his head round to look at you. You watched the way his eyes widened as he gave you a once over, slyly licking his lips before his eyes met yours. ‘You don’t have to sleep on the floor, I’d feel awful if you hurt your back or something. There’s enough room for the both of us’ you told him, nodding to the bed but he shook his head almost instantly.

‘I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable’ he started but you shook your head straight away.

‘Please? It’s honestly fine I’ll feel more uncomfortable with you on the floor’ you argued and he huffed before nodding.

‘I’ll be back in a sec’ he told you, disappearing into the bathroom and you placed your stuff on a chair in the corner before sliding under the covers. True to his word, he wasn’t that long and soon enough he was gently climbing in besides you.

‘Are you not gonna get hot in all that?’ You asked, noticing he was fully dressed but he just shrugged and he settled down, making sure you keep his distance from you. ‘We’ll don’t overheat on my account’ You whispered, turning to face him. You shuffled a little closer to him, never crossing the imaginary middle line, but he smiled and moved himself a little closer to you.

‘Sorry if I made you feel like you’d done something wrong. You haven’t at all I just… Come on, let’s get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning’

‘I know I’m confusing’ you whispered and you felt him reach over to give your hand a squeeze. ‘I know I blow cold a lot but I’ve just got some stuff going on’

‘It’s okay, you don’t have to explain’ he whispered and even though you wanted to argue with him you thought now wasn’t the best time. ‘Y/n?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You looked beautiful tonight’ he whispered and you felt your whole body prickle with goosebumps, opening your eyes to try and find his in the dark but it was pitch black and no use. ‘I mean you always do but… yeah I’ll stop now’ he laughed

‘Have a good sleep, Mason’ you whispered, hoping your voice didn’t sound a shaky as you felt.

‘Night, Y/n’

Tagged: @alwaysclassyeagle @ricsaigaslec @cinderellawithashoe @vip-access @majx00

[cxncordia]

Can I be real at 1 am in the dash?

Since I have started RPing I have discovered things in me as I played. First I discovered bleeding when I felt excited and angry and horny all through my characters. I had a rough time trying to distinguish what I was feeling. Lucky for me, at that time, I had read about different video-game theories and how they worked in media and how normally we overlay our own personality on the characters we play, so that helped me navigate a lot of things here.

Then I started doing table top rping where I realized that the engagement there is way different and much deeper than I could ever do through writing. I made literate RP (as they call it) my second home while I focused completely in table top rping. I have a whole universe spawning from the beginning of the time to beyond the end of times and it keeps on growing. All of the chronicles I've ran for the past four years are set on that universe and events that my friends have done in tables set in 2020 still have repercussions to this day.

While playing, I also have noticed that the bleeding of TTRPGs is probably WAY BIGGER than the bleeding I get from LitRP. While I write a lot of horny characters, I rarely touch myself to the things I write and it takes a while for me to get really invested in a thread this way. Unless it includes a FC that I have a massive crush on, I will engage the idea but in a very detached way. My apologies if this makes anyone who is reading this feel bad, but in all honesty, it just doesn't cut it like a table top session does it.

Now, why am I bringing this upfront?

Well, one of the things I have noticed, in both platforms, is that characters tend to be the epitome of beauty. And I get it, who wants to look bad when playing, am I right? We are, at the end, visual creatures who wish to portray our power fantasy and that comes with a free cosmetic surgery and a beautiful faceclaim. It's very rare to run into RPers who are not into their FC's and even rarer, RPers who are in it for the experience and not the aesthetics of it. Not that there's anything wrong with it, you do you, but certainly the tendency is to think that all characters are meant to be beautiful.

And that's the crux of my problem: so, if a main character needs to be beautiful to be performing as a main character, where does that leave me and my big ol' disforia?

I have been thinking about that for the past year. Well, in all honesty, I've been thinking about that since 2020, when a player at my table pointed that all the NPCs were good looking and fuckable. It made it very difficult for them to focus on the story because he wanted to seduce and convince all of the NPCs that looked good. I used that point to get away with a lot of things, usually with characters lying out right to my players' face in game and getting a pass because oh, they are hot!

This is why I have made more of an effort to include women in my tables and specially, people from very different cultures than my own as well as people that are above 30 years old. I am doing somewhat okay, but if I have to admit something is that I am not doing in the body diversity department. Most of the characters are either white or lighter skin, most of them are able bodied and rarely do I present "ugly" characters, unless required by their characterization (like Nosferatu and Tzimische).

So, where does that leave me and my 130kg weight? Am I allowed to sit in the Nosferatu table or not? Do I want to sit there either way?

And while I have been working to try and act on it, to put more people of brown skin and overweight as protagonists and main characters to my tables, I find it very difficult. Specially when I spend so much time at LitRP that depends heavily on visual cues, gifs, icons and you-name-it with actors that have to be either white, able-bodied, within the masculine hegemony and above all, fit to the t.

Again, where does that leave me and my 130 kg weight?

This is the reason why the last table I joined as a character, I asked my friend who kindly ST'ed for us, to let me use an overweight character. I wanted to create a Toreador, a clan associated with beauty, with an overweight and brown-skin character who looks like me. It's not fair that only straight men get their power fantasy on Werewolf: The apocalypse and the slim goths get theirs on Vampire: The Masquerade. I wanted to be part of the conversation too, thus I created Aristeo Alderete. I wanted to be front and center.

Aristeo, serving Toreador realness.

That said, the experience with that character was short lived. I could not construct much with him, although I really wished it, and many ideas were left out. This was not the first time I tried it: last year I also joined another table where I tried to use a character who looked like that, but I ended up leaving the table because it lacked the manners I like and I felt excluded from the get go.

Which has led me to believe that, well, I could bring him to here. Like I do with almost all the characters here who, at one point, were either my TTRPG characters or NPCs on tables I ST-ed.

But I know the impossible, regressive, hegemonic, racist and very blatantly evident standards of RP players here.

My most requested character is Rich, who fits the traditional masc representation to a T: tall, blonde, muscular, able bodied and with blue eyes. Then after him is Alden, Allen, Xandros, Alejo, Dio and Addison. I do not mind because they all cover different fantasies that I have with men like him. But Amir, Antonio, Arron, Anton, Ignacio and Arden along with Adan rarely get asked by other players. It's me who have to prop them up front and mention just how their background could fit others.

And listen, this is not to call attention to me not getting threads. I am happy and content with what I have and I have all the threads I require at this point. And yes, maybe it's a thing that I need to invest more time in: pushing my POC characters to the front. With that said, I want to ask you: how many overweight characters have you seen in your tumblr RP life? how many of them have had sex scenes or fulfilling threads that give you the feels?

I'm not gonna go around changing people's perspective on FC and what they use, you do you and all that. But on my end, I want to stop hating my body. I want to stop hating myself. I want to start enjoying the only body I will get in this life (unless the Technocratic Union decides to finally release the method for all of us to become disembodied sentient beings but I don't think the Timetable is ready for it.).

And more importantly I want to be part of the conversation.

I want to feel like I matter, despite of how I look.

[ecolawnartificialgrass]

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In conclusion, the reasons behind the rising popularity of artificial grass among New Zealand homeowners are multifaceted. From low maintenance and long-term cost savings to environmental benefits and aesthetic appeal, artificial grass is a viable option for those seeking a practical and beautiful outdoor space. As I consider the possibilities for my own garden, I'm convinced that artificial grass could be the perfect solution for a lush, green lawn that requires minimal upkeep.

If you're interested in exploring this further, I recommend looking into how artificial grass can fit your specific needs and preferences. With the right information and careful planning, you too can enjoy the many benefits that artificial grass has to offer.

[nervouscloudtheorist]

April 22nd 2024

Dear Diary,

Isabelle reminded me that today is Nature Day! She gave me a cool globe to celebrate but she should know based on all the flowers we have in the town, that everyday is Nature day to me! I plant so many trees and flowers, this town might as well be a forest.

I had a dream about the deserted island again. It was Nature day there too and they gave us something called a recipe. Apparently I make things on that island and I can just leave things around outside and they get decorated like when I put them in my house. I know that wasn't very Nature day of me, but it was just a dream.

Back to real life for a moment though, I checked with Re-tail and Reese is buying turnips at 105 bells each today. I still cannot help but think that her husband cannot be happy whenever he does wake up and finds out that his wife is just buying random things. It also just occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, I should be keeping track of how much I buy these turnips for. I feel like that's the best possible way to make money but I don't know if I can keep track of that and research the time paradoxes, which lead up to nothing last night to be honest.

I also kept tripping today what was up with that. I mean it was just a small thing compared to the rest of the bad luck I had today. Like I finally went over to Chrissy's house and it turns out that 1. her house is amazing and I am in love love love with it and 2. She doesn't like being here!! Chrissy tried to move out and was saying that she needed to “ broaden her horizons” and “go on and adventure”. After persuading her a bit, I convinced her to stay but now I feel like the jerk.

It's just like shes one of the cool people you know? I mean Clay is obviously top tier, as is Ribbot and Deirdre, but like if I was just stuck with Sly and Keaton I don't know what I would do with myself. Probably talk to Wisp and beg him to have other people show up.

To show how much I appreciated Chrissy staying, I bought her a bathtub from the new T & T mart. It used to be the Nookling Junction but they decided to change the name for some reason, I dunno. She didn't accept it, probably because she felt like I bullied her into staying. Maybe next time she asks for my advice I will just keep it to myself...

I also got Clay's signature finally and gave it to Shrunk. He told me that he would be immediately working on getting his venue up and running. He finally used the correct term for it. And that it should take a couple of days. I know better now though, a couple of days usually means next day in this town and if I do not wake up tomorrow and see the new place all ready to go I would be surprised.

I also just remembered, I have made no payments on my house.

I really hope Tom Nook really meant that he charges no interest or late fees because I am pretty far behind and I keep spending my money on plants...

Anyways, I better start trying to get Tom his money!

-Finn

P.S. I still have found no Gyroids and I suspect that Clay has lied to me.

P.P.S. I think I should really change the ordinance. Ever since I got better I can't stop waking up at 6...

[fqiryspit]

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ; 𝐞.𝐣𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞�� 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠?

.

summary: y/n went to bed to fall into a new world where she met a boy, Eren. every night she would spend with this imaginary boy, but what happens when one wants to stop dreaming?

playlist

Chapter 7: 𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙣

masterlist

Eren Yeager x Female Reader. College!AU

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【ＥＲＥＮ'Ｓ　ＰＯＶ】

"dude I met this really cute girl at a cafe today"

"I don't care, Armin! my date with Mina is in 15 minutes and I still don't have an outfit!" I express to Armin on the phone

"Chill out...Just a t-shirt and jeans will do" Armin said, calming me down at the obvious choice

"Doesn't that look snobby tho?"

"Dang Eren...I've never seen you this worked up over a girl before" Armin says making my face turn red

"I- I'm not! just wanna look put together is all" I mumble as I fiddle through my wooden drawers

"Whatever you say" I can feel Armin's smirk through the screen but I dismiss his teasing and focus on the task in front of me

I took off my shirt and replaced it with a gray graphic tee, over that I put on a gray and black flannel with black jeans to finish off

checking the time to see it was 9:23 pm and I needed to pick up Mina at 9:30

I quickly end the call with Armin and grabbed my used an' abused backpack that I stuffed with my laptop and snacks, and then drove to Mina's

she walked out wearing a black tank top and black jeans, her hair styled in a bun rather than the kiddy pigtails she always wore as a child -even tho on our dates she always had her hair down-

looking her down from head to toe, I smiled.

I was getting used to seeing this side of Mina

we had a little car date, getting blankets and snacks. my car sat in some random parking lot that had a nice clearing showing the stars. 

grabbing my backpack -that I mindlessly threw in the backseat- I unpacked the chips and went on my laptop to search through different movies as Mina settled into the warm blanket we shared in the backseat

we chose Encanto since we both haven't seen it yet. when something happened in the movie, she'd cling onto my arm and bury her face into my shoulder but her eyes kept locked on the screen

I couldn't help but find her adorable

her hips lightly swayed as the music played, her shoulders playfully shuffling as the characters danced and sang. and when the movie ended she talked about her favorite song, or which character she liked the most. My eyes flickered to her lips but I managed to pull my gaze back to her eyes just for her face to be burned a shade of red from my seemingly harmless action

Her eyes did the same and that's when I leaned in. breaking the space between me and Mina as we kissed, when our lips collided she gasped which was perfect timing for me to slip my tongue in. exploring her mouth a light moan escaped her lips at the foreign feeling of my tongue

we didn't go any further, I dropped her off and went home. 

my eyes locked on my fan that was swirling around my ceiling, sinking into my bed as I replayed the actions of today,

I felt terrible.

Mina is like a really good friend,

but not my girlfriend.

I feel horrible. like I'm leading her on. I feel like a dick that's playing with her feelings when all I want is a friendship

trying to think of what Armin would say to me -since it was too late to call him- the only thing I could think would be,

"it's not your fault"

true, my dad's forcing me to do this.

but I still feel awful.

I'm desperately trying to convince myself that I like Mina when I know that I don't.

rolling over, shoving my face into my pillow, I finally reopened a wound I was desperately trying to hide instead of heal

Y/n.

I need to close my eyes for her to be there.

I need her to grab my hand and run into a forest that she knows I'm scared of.

I need to sit, picking at the dark grass as we talk.

I need her so fucking much, and I'm trying to forget about her.

There's no one I want more than her,

I don't want to dream if Y/n's not there when I open my eyes.

【Ｙ／Ｎ'Ｓ　ＰＯＶ】

Sasha came home a couple of days ago. she didn't speak of "dream-boy" or anything, which you were incredibly grateful for

how were you supposed to explain to your roommate how an imaginary boy "dumped" you?

first of all, that's embarrassing as hell

second, you'd seem extremely crazy

and third, it still hurt like hell.

you've never felt lonelier as you lay in your bed. eyes getting heavy, you try to imagine Eren's next to you, fast asleep.

-How can I miss someone that was never real?-

you wonder as you finally slip into your dreams.

"leave, it's not safe here"

a soft voice cried out. you were in a small bedroom, it looked like the early 2000s with the light pink bedsheets and the tan walls. the room was dark, but...it was like wherever you looked, you had a flashlight for eyes, lighting up where ever your eyes landed on.

you turn to the window to see the snow plying up, lighting up the pitch darkness that leads outside

"please leave"

you turn to see where the noise was coming from, you see a white closet...you walk towards it.

Your fingers wrapped around the tight handle that's somehow colder than anything around you, you turned it...

jumping back your heart racing as the high pitch screams roar from downstairs, your eyes still on the closed closet door as you get tunnel vision

the screams did not stop for a second. you heard the creaking of someone walking upstairs.

-hide hide hide hide, hurry before its too late-

the only thing on your mind, hide.

you slide underneath the bed in the nick of time. the door opened up,

you saw dirty-up sneakers slowly walk around the room.

your was heart beating so fast you worried if he could hear it.

the sneakers stopped at the bed.

a hand sneaking around the edge of the board as he got onto his knees.

your eyes burst open as your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat, eyes widened as you stare at the ceiling of your dorm

after a while, you calm down.

walking to the bathroom you looked at yourself in the mirror, only now noticing the tears you had streaming down your face. you turned on the sink and splashed the water onto your tear-stained face.

you opened the medicine cabinet you had on the side of your bathroom, grabbing the purple bottle that had "melatonin" written on it.

the sink still screaming you wrapped your hands together and slurped it up, then throwing a pill into the mix

your head was thrown back as you swallowed the remedy, you slowly brought your head back down as you eyed your figure. 

the nightmares were coming back.

Chapter 8

˜"*°•.˜"*°• see you soon •°*"˜.•°*"˜

an: 🤪

[mywritingonlyfans]

One Shot with Ethan Torchio // It's a bit Fluffly, Smut and Angsty

prompt: in which, ethan always need/visit you when he's not in tour + casual sex(?) with ethan tying you up so you don't touch him i'm telling you this but isn't a hardcore smut

warnings: it's smut. a fluffly kinda sexy(?)maybe it's just sexy bc it's ethan smut ig fem!reader

(he is so hot. i'm crying all my tears, and that's fucking pathetic.)

Your head hurt, you knew your face was probably red due to your desire to go home and cry, but yet, your friends convinced you to go out for a drink. According to them nothing was too bad that a beer couldn’t improve, you doubted it.

Somehow, you found yourself happy to have accepted.

You didn’t know Ethan was back in town, you briefly wondered why you didn’t know, since he always contacted you when he was near (or at least that was what it seemed to be). Still, you were glad to see him. He was always able to make things better, even if only for a short period of time; which in your case was very short one as he wasn’t yours to have.

Ethan complemented your friends, they were all too familiar to him. He hugged you, giving a small kiss to your head while sitting next to you. Suddenly, you felt like a stronger drink would do you good.

It wasn’t hard to tell what was going to happen in the next few hours, after a couple of years going through that, you knew the time you spent together would always be the same. You guessed that you were able to put his head in place, just as he did with yours; and that's why he always came back to you. You'd never be able to tell if it was luck or mischance.

“Was it too hard to find me?” You asked him.

By now, your friends had moved to another corner. “I mean, I’m not complaining, I’m glad you did.” You offered him a weak smile. He did the same.

He looked tired, yet deadly cute.

He shuffled his chair closer to yours, letting his leg touch your bare knee. “Not really, Victoria said she called you in the morning, then told me that you intended to visit here for the night,” he mumbled, signaling to the bartender that he needed a beer, and so did you.

“She’s a gossip,” you wrinkled your nose, causing him to provide offer you a nasal laugh that you had learned to find lovely over the years. “But what has been happenin’ in your life lately? You’re good?” You tried to sound casual, but deep down you knew he wasn’t there entirely for you. Something was bothering him, he was looking for someone to rest on.

“Pretty much the same,” he sighed heavily. He wasn’t tired just physically. “We finished the last album, I feel exhausted.”

He looked at you like a lost puppy, watching your face, analyzing if you were in the mood to listen to him, or even if you were okay with having him around. After all, he came to you out of nowhere.

He’d never make you uncomfortable around him, maybe he hadn't noticed that yet. “C’mon, let it all out. I haven’t seen you for too many months for you to deprive me of the details.”

“If I tell you,” he pondered, “ you’ll tell me why you have a runny nose to match your watery eyes?” He poked your cheek, dragging his fingers so he could put some strands of hair back in place.

His seat was now so close to you that you'd be able to rest your head on his shoulder if you wanted to without creating any bodily discomfort.

“I guess life just hasn’t been all that gentle with me lately.” You giggled at him. “I lost my job last week, the same life shit is goin’ on as usual, and when I finally managed to move to a decent place, I’ll now be actually going back to sharin' apartment with strangers, because, y’know, I can’t afford bein’ in there anymore.”

Ethan was quiet for a while, you needed him more than he needed you. Listening to you made him realize how his worries were nothing at all. He knew that you didn't mind sharing an apartment with someone, but the loss of perspective was always tough.

Without further thinking, he pulled you to himself, fluffing your hair and holding you tight in his grip. You didn’t cry, yet it was possible to read your emotions. It was little, but Ethan knew you.

You took your head off his chest while he still had his arm around your waist. Taking a deep breath, you stared at your laced fingers, feeling it slow down. “I guess it’s all happenin’ at the same time, I’m just not sure how to handle it at the moment,” he held your face in his hand, his mouth close to yours as he ran his fingertips over your chin, until his lips were on you.

He was soft and wet, he had the same taste you still had etched in your mind, at that moment it seemed to be all you needed. He let go slowly, distributing pecks on the corners of your mouth, letting his forehead rest against yours.

You two stayed like that for a few minutes and you could bet that anyone who passed by could see how much of a fool you were for him. You tried not to think about it too much, it was better to have little of him than to have nothing. “Ethan?”

“Huh?” He murmured with his eyes closed, giving your lips a tickling sensation.

“Kiss me more,” and then he did. Ethan was holding you in place while your hands intertwined around his neck. You played with the chain of his necklace, savoring the touch of his tongue on yours, focusing only on him while pulling at his hair to hear his soft moans.

It didn’t take long for the bartender to come get your attention. You laughed nervously against him, you were embarrassed because you didn’t even remember where you were, still Ethan seemed untouchable about it. He wasn’t one to be embarrassed over small things like that, at least not with you. The bartender was quite irritated with the two of you and just now you noticed that your drinks had arrived and hadn’t even been touched; he was rightly pissed.

Ethan stood up, lifting you up with him. You looked in your pockets for your money, but then Ethan said it was okay and that he’d pay. You would argue, yet any money left over would be welcome. You held both beers in hand as he paid, thanking the old lady for the service, still feeling your skin burning with embarrassment, and then headed outside to wait for Ethan.

“Are you drivin’?” He asked, laughing at your state of awkwardness.

You bumped into his shoulder slightly, laughing along with him. “I am not, I’m living nearby,” you whispered as he put his hand inside your skirt pocket, bringing you to his side for a walk. “In the apartment that soon won’t be mine… how ‘bout you?”

“Not drivin’, I thought about staying somewhere to spend the night.”

He was close to home, but not that close, it would take about 3 hours to get to where he lives; it seemed plausible that he wanted to stay. “Are you only here because of me?” You risked asking.

“Yeah,” he took his hand out of your pocket and ran it through his hair. “I didn’t think it‘d be a bad idea.”

There was a silence, but it was far from being uncomfortable. “You know you can stay with me.”

——————-

Considering that you were in the process of moving to another place your house was a bit of a mess. Ethan wouldn’t be bothered by that, somehow your instinct of wanting things always in place - aka Monica from Friends - made you wander around the space in an attempt to make Ethan at home.

“What ‘bout the new album?” You asked, dragging one of the boxes away from him. It wouldn’t even bother anyone, but the thought that it would be in the middle of the room while someone was at your house bothered you.

“I don’t really know, I feel anxious about releasin’ it. It’s not that I don’t want to release it or am afraid of doing so, far from that, it's just, I don’t know… ” His voice fell silent, lost in his thoughts.

You turned to him, wanting to ask him what he had said, after all, that didn’t sound like Ethan, you felt as his hands touched your hips, pulling you on his lap. “Y'know I don’t care about your mess, right? Just, please, stop walkin’ 'round the house dragging boxes.” He said with his face close to your neck, hugging you from behind. His warm breath was in contact with your soft skin, providing heat to your body. Well, there was a minimal percentage chance that you were trying to make the place look good for Ethan, just because he made you a little nervous.

“Okay, fine. I’m fine,” you exhaled, turning to face him. He was smiling with his eyes almost closing; he still looked tired, but at least you were improving his mood. “You know you’re good at what you do, Ethan. You shouldn’t worry 'bout those things.” You held on to his shoulders, breaking something that could turn out to be a pity silence.

He squeezed your thigh at the same time as he laughed humorlessly at your words. “I know that. I guess that this is the short time they gave us to finish the album – it was drivin’ me crazy. The album isn’t bad, not at all, it’s honestly very good. Dami did a incredible job, still if it weren’t for the time it could have been even better. That’s crazy how I’m still letting myself get stressed over this, don’t you think?” He vented, moving his hands up your skirt.

“I know it’ll be good, I can’t think of anything you did that ended up bad!” You ran your fingers over his covered shoulders, down to his chest, going to the first open button of his t-shirt. “But if it’s just stress I can help you.”

He lubed his lips, nodding assiduously, putting you properly on top of him. That way, you were stuck to his body, feeling the rough of his jeans along with the zipper against your underwear. You gulped as he held your face, sealing your lips with his. You were relieved he always guided you through that; the leading up part was way better when it came from him.

You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt in middle of sloppy kisses and grips. Running your hand over his belly, tracing your fingers to the back of his neck while moving your hips lightly. You lugged on his hair, pulling him away to catch your breath. You opened your eyes to find Ethan with a deep pink mouth and brown eyes more intense than normal, at that moment you could have sworn that he was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. You spread his shirt to the sides, sensing your body getting hotter, when Ethan smirked at your rush, managing to hold both of your hands behind you; stopping you in place.

“No need to rush, we have plenty of time,” he clenched you in his hands. You arched your back, breathing heavily at each touch of his fingers on your wrists.

He ran his nose over your neck, placing kisses and bites on the way to your collarbone, leaving wet tracks that would later turn into dark marks.

Your legs ached from that position, the couch wasn’t the best, but feeling Ethan getting hard under you as you writhed yourself against him, made you want to stay there for as long as he wanted you to. It was crazy to think that at the beginning of the day you were sure that the rest of it would be a pure disaster, and now being spoiled by Ethan’s lips your worries seemed to fade away.

Temporary as that would be, you were determined to give him your all, making his and yours next hours one of the best escapes from both of you. Unnecessary to say that you were lost in your own mind by now, craving for having his strands in-between your fingers, wanting him tugged into you furiously, causing you to ache. Your mouth was ajar, your vision was just white dots as he played with your sensitive skin, driving you insane. Ethan paralyzed when his grip became too strong around your fists and you got louder than usual.

“D’you like that?” He did it again, but this time pushing your body backward. He kept his devilish grin on his face, watching you from top to bottom. You bit your lips, containing your noises to yourself. Such an angel in his eyes. “Up, babe. I need to see something.” He didn’t let you answer, not as if he needed to. You stood up in front of him, legs shaking with your head definitely not in the right place. “Undress.” He rested his elbows on his knees.

His face was serious, and you didn’t see any problem in obeying his voice, but perhaps, due to the lack of his body being glued to yours, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it when I tell you what to do,” He caught you by the hem of your underwear, helping to take it off while you got rid of your blouse. “Especially, when I just got you off my lap, almost unconscious 'cause of some kisses to your soft neck, pet.” He added, drawing circles on the inside of your thigh, smoothly going up to your center.

You felt your breath come to a halt. “You’re just too bossy.” You teased, confirming that your breathing was faulty.

He patted his nose over the damp stain of the fabric, placing a kiss there. “And you love it.” He pecked you a few more times, teasing you by running his fingers on the edges as putting the cloth to the side; never touching you where you needed him.

Almost involuntarily you took hold of his hair, bringing him closer to your core. And then, you understood his previous question, it wasn’t just about not being able to touch him, but also about the power he was having over you.

He cut his actions short and got up, hovering over you. “Tonight, you won’t be allowed to touch me, all right?!” He whispered, tossing your hair behind your ear.

That’d be comical in any other situation, yet with his body and eyes fixed on your frame you felt in his domain.

You nodded, diving into the way he pulled at the hair on the nape of your neck firmly so that you were looking at him. “Go on, babe,” He insisted on having the words he wanted.

“Yes, it’s all right, Ethan,” it was far from all right, you couldn’t do that. How could you go without touching, making a mess of his hair or marking your nails on his back?

“That’s my girl,” he praised you in between sighs.

He was excited while your face was overflowing with nervousness; not out of fear, but out of curiosity. He finished removing his shirt and indicated with his fingers for you to lie down on the couch.

You shut your eyes tight, with his voice echoing 'my girl’ in your mind, Ethan was lugging your wrists above your head as you did what he told you to do. He tied them with his shirt. “Is this hurtin’ you? Are you comfortable?” He tightened it in a knot.

Your head and elbows were on the arm of the couch, only your hands were unsupported. Although you weren’t uncomfortable, it was to be expected that pain would appear the next day; it’d be worth it. “No, it’s fine. I’m good.” You assured him as he knelt beside the couch, running his hands down your torso, making you squirm.

He went down to the hem of your underwear, taking it off with the help of your legs kicking the lace away. “Good then,” he warbled, pattering lines on your pubic hair. “Needy and in your proper place.”

“Bastard,” you swore through clenched teeth.

He grinned, admiring how your breast rose and fell in a quick but punctual rhythm while your hips fidgeted at his touch. You looked like a piece of art he had just created, swollen lips, filled in lovely marks on the collarbone. He found himself in need to concentrate on his breathing while watching you, to control his pulse as he reached his fingertips to your pussy.

“Ethan” you breathed out, forcing your fists. “Go on, please,”

With that, he held your hands, forcing them down and slid a finger inside you. Your lips opened in a sigh and he took the opportunity to kiss you, running his tongue over your bottom lip and nipping it to his mouth, keeping things on a slow pace.

You wanted to hold his hand, make him go faster or be able to pull the locks of his hair until he understood how much you wanted him, but you had no way of doing that, and you knew he was just doing that to provoke you.

His lips traveled over your neck again, this time giving light kisses, blowing air on the soft fresh he had left in there.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he said without even opening his eyes, delighting in your skin as he sped up, now rubbing his thumb gently over your bud.

You whispered something almost inaudible that Ethan recognized as his name. He raised his head, coming face a face to you. “Right there, huh?” He asked, focusing on the spot that was blurring your vision.

You groaned. The satisfying delight running through your veins. You closed your legs, wishing you could hold on to his body, but all he did was laugh, shoving his fingers leisurely into you.

“No, no Ethan,” you looked at him properly, thinking that if you hadn’t been with your wrists tied you’d have slapped his chest.

He wiped his hand on your thigh, and stood up slipping his jeans down his legs along with his underwear. You sighed at him, stretching your arms, staring at the ceiling to disguise yourself. Not that it was necessary, Ethan was already too much of a show-off when it came to you for your liking.

“You good? How’s your arms?” He doubted, getting on top of you.

He had his hair damp, falling over the spots on his forehead. Some of his locks was glued to his chest and his golden pendant dangled in front of your eyes. For a split second, you though about saying that you missed him, but you were wise enough to know better than doing such a thing.

“If I say that I’m not good. Are you goin’ to untie me?”

He pressed his chest to yours, your body sticking to his since you were both sweaty.

“Not even a chance,” He stroked your neck with his thumb, up and down, with a silly look on his face.

You grunted as soon as you felt how solid hard he was against your thigh, he aligned himself in-between your knees, holding on to your shoulders, and without hesitation he filled you up. Your body tingled and your voice failed, causing a silent moan to slip from your lips. His head fell over the crook of your neck and you could feel how dysrhythmic his breathing was. His warm body along with his breath hitting on your neck added a pleasant feeling in your stomach, leaving you dizzy under him.

“Move Ethan,” you tried to sound understandable, embracing his waist with your legs.

He thrusted deeply in you, leaving a breathed sigh of relief in your ears. You stretched out your arms, tightening your thighs around him. He held the shirt in your hands, preventing it from coming loose.

“No, I wanna touch you,” you whined.

“You will, just be patient, babe,” he squeezed your wrists in his hand.

Closing your eyes, you enjoyed the way his body was over yours, every movement and every delicate touch.

He went slowly at first, making sure you were taking all of him before going faster. Once he felt your walls clenching around him, he murmured a breathless 'fuck’, letting go of your hands so that you could finally feel him. You dug your nails into his back, kneading your body against his at the same time as he hugged you.

As you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you, with an intense gaze, building you up to feel sexy and wanted.

Both of you were a mess; sweaty and sticky. You felt a tingling ecstasy take all over your body, your toes twitching as you emptied yourself into him. He kept working on you until his body collapsed into yours, filling you up to perfection.

The last thing you remembered was having your fingers entwined in his hair, patting at it slightly as he whispered sweet nothing against your skin; just like a lullaby.

———–-------

You woke up to the noise of the television, trying to adjust your vision to the brightness of the daylight. Failing to stretch, you felt how sore your body was.

Your eyes searched for Ethan, finding him sitting opposite to you with a lazy smile and a cup of tea in hands, his attention was all on you. Friends was playing on the television, but you doubted he was really watching it.

“Good mornin’ babe,” his husky voice echoed through the room. It was the best thing to hear in the morning. “How’s it? Hurtin’?” He asked when you started examining your marked wrists.

He was fully dressed and although you weren’t, he had managed to get a sheet to cover you.

“Good mornin’. It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt,” you mumbled, scratching your eyes, curling up on the sheet. “How long will you be stayin’ in town?”

“Not long,” he paused thoughtfully. You already expected that he wouldn’t be with you for long, still sometimes you liked to think that it’d last longer than just a few days before he disappeared to another continent. “I need to go home in a few minutes, I’m going to take a flight at night to adjust the final details of the album.”

“Sounds nice,” you wanted to have the courage to tell him how he made things in your life look just right, as if he were some kind of piece missing from your puzzle. “I can’t wait to hear it, hear what your great fingers are capable of.” You ignored your thoughts. He laughed.

However, you truly believed that not saying anything was a wise move.

He lifted a cup from one of the boxes next to him, holding it out to you. “I made one for you too, I hope you don’t mind.”

You didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved the way he made himself at home so quickly. The home that soon wouldn’t be yours anymore. You wished Ethan could remedy your worries for more than just one night.

“Thank you,” you took the still warm drink in your hands, looking at him as if he were part of your decor. “You can smoke in here, I don’t mind that either,” you spoke up. You couldn’t even imagine that he’d have gone without lighting a cigarette all morning.

“The place is all clean, and smells nice. I bet you never lit one yourself, I wouldn’t do that.” He was right.

“Well, y'know that I don’t care about the smell, I just don’t see the need to leave the house impregnated with it.” You explained, remembering that Ethan’s house was a perfect description of that smell, yet you loved his place.

“I know this is going to sound strange,” he started. “But if you can’t find a place in time to live in… you can stay at mine, I mean, you know I am never home and as I’ll be travelin’ you could make yourself at home.”

He said it casually, and you knew he wasn’t lying, if you wanted to he wouldn't even think twice about letting you stay at his.

“No need, I’ll be fine. I do appreciate it though.” you took a sip of your now cold drink.

He bobbed, checking what you thought could be the time on his phone.

“You have to go, I guess?” You asked, your soft voice revealing you didn’t want that.

“I need to,” he gave you a small smile, getting up. “It’s gettin’ a bit late for me.”

“I see,” you went to him, adjusting the sheet on your body, feeling ridiculous for still being undressed. “I guess I’ll see you, right?” You added it while he picked up your stuff on the couch; keys, wallet and the pack of cigarettes. There was no answer for your question.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, heading to the door. “You could come and visit, spend a few days with us. It’d be nice.”

“On tour? Like a groupie?” You wrinkled your nose. His arms wrapping around you. You’d miss it.

He squeezed you into his chest, his tiny beard tickling your cheek. “You know you are much more than just a groupie for me, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer that. He pulled away and for a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

“See ya Y/N,” instead, he kissed the top of your head. “Think about it, both about comin’ to visit and also about needing a place to stay for a while.”

“I’m sure I will, thank you Ethan,” you watched him, from his rumpled shirt to dark circles under his eyes. He’d always have a special space in your heart. “I guess I’ll see ya then.”

>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<

taglist ( 'cause someone actually wanted to be tagged, i didn't even force anyone😁): @maybanksslut , @oro-e-diamanti

[nymphbnny]

perfect strangers

MINORS DNI // 18+

part one; part two; part three

genre: nsfw

pairings: jean kirschtein x female reader

word count: 2.6k

tags/warnings: penetrative sex, dom jean, fingering, praising kink, slight body worship, dirty talk, sneaky.

synopsis: your recent discovery makes you certain that you won't be able to control yourself around him and neither will he, hence you decide that it was time to make an agreement that was rather spicy.

a.n: hey babies! so i finally decided to turn this into a short series since some of you were intrigued with the idea of having a continuation for the previous part i wrote. i hope you like it, enjoy <3

“How was I supposed to know?!” I yelled as soon as Jean exited our apartment. I had put on a random t-shirt to follow Connie to his room, trying to convince him that I had no idea that I fucked his best friend.

“Y/n he literally told you his name is Jean and he was attending my party. You’re acting as you’ve never seen him before!” he scolded taking off his shirt and throwing it across his room.

“Oh for fuck’s sake Connie. The last time I saw Jean I was 16 and he didn’t look like that. He’s so fucking different now how was I supposed to know. And to be fair, he was studying abroad for I don’t know how many years, how was I supposed to know that he metamorphosed like that.” I motioned my arm out, my other hand resting on my hip.

He groaned, rubbing his temples before he looked back at me. “Look,” he spoke softly. “I don’t want to fight with you over this okay? You’re right, I should’ve told you that he was coming back. He graduated a year ago and was considering coming back to his hometown, here. Let’s just forget it all happened okay? It’s a simple misunderstanding.” I nodded, resting my head on his chest as he embraced me into a tight hug.

“Now go take a shower you reek of sex.” he snickered earning a punch on his arm. He winced rubbing his flesh, a proud smile setting on my face.

***

The week went by smoothly. I told Sasha and Hitch what happened and they both had different reactions. Hitch was gushing over the sex and Sasha on the other hand confessed that she forgot to mention that Jean was coming back to stay here. It’s okay though. We all passed it and I was working my ass off to finally graduate.

Connie was spending his days with Jean, which granted me a lot of peace and tranquility. At least, that’s what I thought.

I hadn’t spoken to Jean ever since we hooked up, figured that Connie already explained the whole situation and moved on.

Three knocks on my door broke my focus, a loud frustrated sigh leaving my lips. “What Connie!”

“Actually,” a voice on the other side of the door caught me off guard. “It’s Kirschtein. Can I come in?” A knot formed in my throat.

“Sure.” he turned the knob, slowly coming in. “Connie knows I’m here by the way.” I nodded, adjusting my seat.

“What’s up?” the tension was awkward. The tension shouldn’t even be present in the first place. But how could I not get aroused when he was wearing a black tank top showing off the tattoos on his sleeves with a pair of sweats. He looked effortlessly attractive.

“- and like I said it will never happen again. Y/n?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, yeah. Never happen again. I’m very sorry but I need to finish this assignment.” He chuckled and nodded leaving me alone with my thoughts. Did I just make him talk to himself because I was too busy checking him out?

I shook my head, assuming that whatever he said wasn’t worth my time. Time went by rather quickly and the assignment was done earlier than I expected. It was already ten pm, and I had promised the girls I was going to meet up with them for some drinks.

I picked my outfit and applied some makeup. Simple and effective. We were going to spend the night at Sasha’s so I didn’t make much effort to look hot.

The place was empty when I left and I assumed that Connie was helping Jean to rent an apartment for himself.

Sasha’s place wasn’t very far from mine. As a matter of fact, it only took me ten minutes to get there. Once I got there, the girls were already ordering pizza and picking out some movies to watch.

“Hey whores.” I greeted them, earning cheers from Hitch and Sasha. “Oh my god, Mikasa I missed you!” I rushed to the dark-haired girl who was sitting on the couch and engulfed her into a tight hug. I haven’t seen Mikasa since I moved with Connie. We used to live together, but after she and Eren got together, he wouldn’t leave her alone. So I figured it would be best if I left and lived with my brother.

“I missed you too! I looked for you everywhere at that party where were you?” she asked taking a sip of her soda. Hitch began coughing dramatically as Sasha giggled next to her. “Oh quit it.” I teased rolling my eyes.

I ended up telling her everything, her face displaying a plethora of expressions. “I mean, Jean did change I can’t argue with that. But didn’t he recognize you?”

I shrugged. “I changed too. Puberty hit me like a truck.”

“Cheers to that.” Hitch raised her cup. We laughed and talked for hours. I missed going out with them like that. Fortunately, college will be over soon and I’ll have some time for myself.

Movies were playing in the background but we paid them no mind. We ate our food and cleaned the living room, not wanting to bother Sasha with the cleaning since she was having Niccolo over tomorrow.

I glanced at the clock that was hanging above the door. I gathered my stuff and tucked them in my bag, drawing all of their eyes on me.

“Already? Come on stay longer!” Sasha whined. I smiled softly at her and shook my head.

“I can’t, I’ll see you guys soon.” I waved at them and walked out of the door.

***

“Connie! I’m ho- what are you still doing here?” I froze at the entrance, my keys still hanging from my index finger, my eyes fixated on him as he only stood in basketball shorts.

“What do you mean what am I still doing here. I moved in here remember?”

Silence. Nothing but intense and awkward silence. Moved in? Since when?

“I told you when I came into your room. Weren’t you listening to me?” I stared at him blankly, not able to explain how caught in thought I was when he came into my room. I was too busy checking him out to care about what he was trying to tell me.

“Why didn’t Connie tell me?” I closed the door and locked it slowly, my legs feeling weak, the idea of living with him and seeing him walking around like that making me weak. And extremely horny.

“He said he’d rather if I told you. You know, break the ice.” he shrugged and walked forward, his chest now a few inches apart from mine. “You changed a lot from what I remember.” he lowly said tucking my hair behind my ear.

“So did you,” I replied, staring at his lips. He licked his bottom lip and held my chin between his fingers, forcing me to maintain eye contact.

I was a sweating mess. I still couldn’t believe that this was Jean, the horse face. What kind of water did he drink, and how did he get so big? Look at those muscles-

A sudden feeling on my lips interrupted my chain of thoughts. I soon realized that he held my bottom lip between his brown ones. “Kiss me back y/n, I know you want to,” he whispered, his breath brushing up my face.

It didn’t take me long to pull him to me, crashing my lips on his. He was intoxicating in ways I couldn’t understand nor explain. I needed him close to me at the moment and I didn’t care why.

“Yo, Jean where did you my video game?!” Connie’s voice boomed from the hallway, forcing us apart. Realization slapped my face when I looked at him and saw his cocky smirk. I just kissed him, even though I promised myself I’d never do anything with him ever again.

“I’ll get it!” he yelled back, the same expression resting on his face, his back facing the hallway. “I’d apologize, but you pulled me back. Anyway, I’ll see around beautiful.” he winked and began walking towards Connie’s room, his back muscles flexing at his movements.

What am I doing with myself?

***

The atmosphere felt nice. I couldn’t sleep so instead I lied down on my bed and watched the stars from my window. I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened hours ago and how I had to sit with them and pretend as nothing happened.

Jean was certainly not the little boy he was years ago. He got more confident and a lot more handsome. He was fucking with me and I thought, why shouldn’t I fuck with him too?

After all, I know for sure he didn’t tell Connie anything. He’s too protective of me and if he knew, well let’s just say Jean would be moving out by tomorrow. He trusts him blindly and I honestly just think he doesn’t want me to hook up with him again because he’s just like him.

He likes to mess around. Not the type to stay in the morning after. But neither was I. I sighed and dragged my legs out of bed, my body following.

“Shit now I gotta pee,” I whined stomping slightly on the wooden floor. I ruffled my hair with my hand and slipped on my slippers. I was wearing Connie’s t-shirt, so it was long enough to hide my thighs.

I walked to the bathroom when suddenly a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me into the guest bedroom. My mouth was quick to be silenced by another hand as I was about to squeal.

My back collided with the wall, my hands pinned on each side of my head.

“Jean let me go.” I struggled to get out of his grasp but he kept grinning at me. “Sure.” He let go of his grasp.

I looked around to notice a towel on his bed. “I was going to take a shower but then I heard your footsteps, couldn’t let you get there before I did.” He walked away, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

“Is that all?” I cocked my eyebrow, crossing my arms. He looked me up and down before saying: “You tell me. Need anything else?”

I looked at him briefly, calculating my next move. “An agreement. Connie can’t know.”

“Fuck yeah.” he dropped his towel and stepped closer to me, holding my face with his hands as he crashed his lips on mine. I kissed him back instantly, my fingers finding their way through his hair.

His tongue slipped in, caressing mine. His hands went down my body to squeeze my ass, pulling me even closer to him. My hands traveled across his bare chest, going over his pecs and then gliding one hand down his abs, while the other sat on his shoulder.

We pulled apart, his arms going under my thighs to pull me up and sit me onto the mattress. He walked to the door, locking it before he looked back at me.

Jean crawled over my body, caging me between his arms. “Divine.” he smiled and sat up, his hands tugging at my top. I helped him take it off and threw it on his chair. I was nude underneath him. It wasn’t the first time, yet he still looked mesmerized.

He licked his lips, his fingers tracing my cunt before dipping into my entrance. I arched my back at the sudden intrusion, trying my best to remain quiet.

“I missed your little cunt.” he chuckled massaging my insides slowly. I gasped, my hand immediately covering my mouth.

He rubbed my bud with his thumb, his pace never changing. It was torturing and slow, but I knew we couldn’t make a lot of noise nor make lots of movements that could awake Connie. We had to go nice and easy.

My legs squirmed, the combination of playing my nipples and watching him touch like he does driving me to the edge. My eyes rolled to the back as he added a third finger, my walls clenching tightly around them as I felt myself orgasm around them. “Good girl.” he praised with a chuckle, removing his fingers from my opening.

“Suck your juices off come on.” he tapped my hand, motioning me to remove it and take his fingers in. I stuck my tongue out, his ling digits finding their way down my throat making me slightly gag. “I didn’t know you were such an obedient girl.” he cooed, as I sucked off my arousal.

Jean sat back up, removing his shorts along with his briefs, his erection slapping on my lower stomach. “As much as I’d love you to suck me,” he paused pumping his cock. “I have to say that I miss being inside you.” And with that, he slid all the way in, his mouth silencing my moans.

He stayed still for a while, his eyes staring into mine intensely, almost as if he was trying to tell me something. I nodded my head, his hips moving at my signal. His thrusts were slow and deep, going over every spot. I wrapped my arms around him, my forehead resting against his, as he breathed heavily.

“I want to fuck you dumb, but he’ll hear your moans.” he taunted rolling his hips, his tip almost hitting my cervix. “So good.” I whimpered, wrapping my legs around him, my heels digging into his lower back.

“Jean…” I was close and my legs were a shaking mess. “That’s right baby, say my name.” he breathed in my ear, slightly speeding up his thrusts. I bit onto his shoulder, my orgasm ripping through my body.

I tightened around him, his strokes getting sloppier. It came to my attention that he wasn’t wearing protection, and I wasn’t about to get adventurous like last time. “Jean… pull out…”

“Beg.” was his only reply to which I complied. “Please, anywhere, just not-“ He harshly pulled out, and instead of jerking himself on my stomach, he reached up to straddle my chest and stroked himself. “Open.”

I stuck my tongue out, his hand now replaced with mine as I jerked him off, ropes of cum shooting down my throat. “Such a good girl.” he chuckled, rubbing his hand over his face.

He got off me and pulled his hair back using both hands, his naked body walking around the bed to grab some tissues. He cleaned off my arousal and handed me some to clean the corners of my lips.

“If only you could see how messed up you look,” he smirked and threw me my t-shirt before grabbing his towel and sliding on his shorts.

I put on my top and got off his bed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and internally yelled at myself. I looked like a mess. My hair was tangled and my skin was all sweaty. Guess I have to take a shower too.

I looked over at Jean to see him staring at me with an amused look on his face. “What?” I cocked my eyebrow. He shrugged and smiled at me. “Connie and I are going out to get some lunch tomorrow. What’d you say?” he requested.

“I mean yeah sure. But Jean he can-“

“Can’t know alright.” he rolled his eyes. We stared at each other for a minute before I decided to leave his room.

As I made my way past him, his hand flew to cup my swollen cunt. “This belongs to me.”

[thewidowsghost]

Shy (Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Fem!Reader)

Anon asked:

May I request you writing a fic where Wanda Maximoff trains a new shy avenger who doesn’t laugh a lot and Wanda accidentally finds out that the reader is EXTREMELY ticklish and she thinks it’s very funny and she pins him/her down and tickles the reader to get him/her to laugh and open up to her?

This was so much fun to write!

Thanks to all of you guys who've recently sent in requests!

(Y/n) Stark had to be the shiest person any of the Avengers had ever met, and that hadn't changed when the young woman had joined the Avengers.

Now, the youngest Stark is nothing like her father. Where Tony was loud and obnoxious, (Y/n) is shy and not once had anyone, not even her mother, Pepper, nor her father had once heard (Y/n) laugh.

The young Avenger had only smiled in the presence of someone that wasn't her parents added up to a grand total of three times, and they had all been directed by her godmother Natasha. Once was because Natasha had gotten (Y/n) the exact gift she'd wanted without telling the former assassin. The second has been when (Y/n) was five and she'd left her favorite bear at her parent's house, and Natasha had taken (Y/n) to Build-A-Bear to make a new bear. The third had been the time when (Y/n) was sick - Tony and Pepper were at work like always - and Natasha is tasked with caring for the youngest Stark; Natasha had snuggled with her goddaughter, bring forth the third and last smile Natasha had seen from the girl, a grateful, loving smile that had Natasha cuddling (Y/n) closer.

Then Wanda Maximoff had entered the picture.

At first, (Y/n) had treated the newest Avenger with the same attitude as the other, but after a month or so, (Y/n) had warmed up to the witch.

The two young women are having their twice-a-week movie night when Wanda brushes (Y/n)'s side with a hand as she reaches for the bowl of popcorn.

"I'm sorry!" Wanda says hastily but smiles slightly when she catches (Y/n)'s lips quirks into the slightest smile and she hears the soft giggle escape them. "Oh, the quietest Avenger is ticklish?" Wanda teases, wiggling her fingers playfully.

"No, no I'm not," (Y/n) protests, her slight smile still betraying her.

Wanda grins, tackles (Y/n), and digs her fingers into (Y/n)'s ribs.

"W-wan-nda-a!" (Y/n) laughs, unable to stop herself. "S-st-to-op!" she exclaims, still laughs hysterically.

The door to (Y/n)'s room slams open and five Avengers and a mother are framed in the doorway, staring dumbfounded at the scene in front of them: Wanda straddling (Y/n)'s waist, fingers still dug into (Y/n)'s ribs, and, possibly the strangest part of the situation is the fact that (Y/n) is still laughing.

"I thought someone had died," Pepper says softly.

"This might be stranger though," Tony continues, just as soft as his wife, the six backing out of the room, silently closing the door behind them.

Wanda, still grinning, settles back down on the bed beside (Y/n), and (Y/n) sits up, her cheeks still red.

"Do I win a prize?" Wanda asks teasingly.

"What would you like?" (Y/n) asks, a soft smile creeping onto her face.

"Why do you never smile or laugh?" Wanda asks, turning to study (Y/n) closely.

(Y/n) silently considers the question, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. Then she speaks, "I guess it's because my parents were always at work when I was younger, and I was always left with Nat. Don't get me wrong, I love Natasha, but sometimes I just want to spend time with them. They were just always gone."

Wanda replies curiously, "Why didn't you just tell them?"

"I'm shy, I guess that played a part in it," (Y/n) pauses. "But I guess it's also the fact that I didn't want to disappoint them."

"(Y/n), you're not disappointing anyone, not now, not ever," Wanda says fiercely. "They want what's best for you - making sure you have everything you could ever want."

"Wanda, I-I," (Y/n) falters, notice the emotion behind the witch's words. "Thank you," (Y/n) finally settles with, turning back towards the TV.

(Y/n) leans against Wanda slightly, the popcorn bowl resting in (Y/n)'s lap. The youngest Stark is feeling a lot better with all that she'd told Wanda off her chest.

The next morning, (Y/n) wakes up, determined to make today a good day.

(Y/n) is the first one downstairs, and she's the one who makes breakfast - waffles, pancakes, sausage, bacon, and sliced fruit.

(Y/n) greets Natasha with a warm hug and a stack of waffles with sliced strawberries on top, and the former assassin smiles, (Y/n) returns the smile shyly.

(Y/n) greets the remainder of the Avengers with shy, nervous smiles, and their choice of breakfast.

The atmosphere is a lot more relaxed this morning, (Y/n) thinks as she sits down beside Wanda, and when the witch smiles warmly, (Y/n) returns it.

Wanda is helping (Y/n) clean up the breakfast dishes, the other Avengers having moved into the training room when Wanda turns to ask (Y/n) a question. "(Y/n)?" (Y/n) turns to meet Wanda's gaze. "Would you want to, maybe, only if you want to," Wanda falters as if she's nervous, and (Y/n) smiles reassuringly at the witch. "Would you like to go out with me? It's okay if you don't want to," Wanda asks hastily. "It's up -"

"Wanda!" (Y/n) interupts. "Wanda, I'd love to go out with you."

"Wait, really?" Wanda asks, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Wanda, you helped bring out a side of myself that even I've never seen before, that was all you," (Y/n) says. "Talking about the thing we talked out yesterday, or," (Y/n) cracks the slightest smiles, "what you forced out of me yesterday, made me realize that, despite what I thought, my parents to want me around."

"I'll pick you up in the lobby at 5'o'clock?" Wanda asks and (Y/n) nods.

"See you soon," (Y/n) says, placing a soft kiss on Wanda's cheek.

At 5'o'clock, (Y/n) and Wanda meet in the lobby of the Compound.

"You look really nice," Wanda tells (Y/n), and the young Stark flushes. (Y/n) is wearing a pair of dark jeans, a mint green t-shirt, a dark green leather jacket that must've belonged to Natasha, and a pair of black tennis shoes.

"I-I, wow," is (Y/n)'s response as she gazes at Wanda. The witch is wearing a black dress with a red leather jacket, and a pair of black, knee-high leather boots.

Wanda chuckles taking (Y/n)'s hand gently in her own before she leads the Stark out to a waiting car - a familiar black Corvette Stingray.

Wanda opens one of the back doors and (Y/n) slides into the car.

"Hello, Miss Stark, Miss Maximoff," says Natasha Romanoff, who Wanda had recruited - not that it took a lot of convincing - to be their chauffeur for the night.

"Oh, hi Nattie," (Y/n) greets her godmother.

Natasha smiles at the girl before she starts the car, driving to their destination.

"This is beautiful," (Y/n murmurs, gazing at all the light strung through the gazebo. "And how'd you figure out all my favorite foods - paprikash, roasted potatoes; beef stroganoff," albeit an interesting assortment of food. "Nattie used to make me a ton of eastern European and Russian dishes when I was younger. You use your powers?"

"I like to ask permission when I use them. I took a guess, and well, Nat helped me a little," Wanda admits. "I also went with a few of my own favorites."

(Y/n)'s phone dings partway through the dinner, and (Y/n) glances apologetically at Wanda before she glances down at the phone beside her plate at the table.

"It's Nattie," (Y/n) says.

Nattie: How's it going 😀 ❤️ Having fun?

Me: Haha ❤️ You've been in on this all day and you haven't told me 🥺 ❤️

(Y/n) glances over to the car and smiles at her godmother, who smiles lovingly in return.

A sleepy (Y/n) rests against Wanda on the quiet ride back to the Compound; Wanda smiles, her green eyes sparkling.

Wanda sends Natasha a grateful smile and walks (Y/n) up to her room.

"I had a really nice time," (Y/n) says with a sleepy smile. "Can we do something tomorrow? Maybe see a movie?"

"I'd love to," Wanda beams.

Word Count: 1323 words

Taglist:

@theofficialzivadavid

@mariawilson24

@procrastinatingsapphictrash

@marsromanoff

@rail-me-romanoff

@okiedokie4

@fayhar

@acertainredhead

@capsicle118

[the-only-ace]

Hey I know you are really busy with all the request and job and all that but can you do shinee's reaction to s/o stealing their t-shirts and hoodies?? You can make them one shots of you want too😁

shinee reacts: their s/o wearing their clothes

heyyy~ i really liked this request because i personally love to do this. for this request, i want to try something new since you gave me an idea with the one-shots part. so instead of describing their reactions, i'll convey it in a form of a short story. it will still be per member! i hope you will like this one (heads up though, the posts is a bit longer than my usual shinee reacts) <3

p.s. if you guys can, kindly let me know if you like this kind of format for shinee reacts. thank you!

send in your requests here!

onew / jinki: you sighed for the nth time within just 10 short minutes. you were staring and pouting in front of your closet for you can't find the perfect clothes for your brunch date with onew. it was a hot day today and you just wanted to wear something cute but comfortable. however, it seems like your wardrobe doesn't offer that kind of outfit.

your eyes slowly traveled toward onew's part of the closet. his side was full of quirky graphic tees which you always find adorable. you don't usually borrow his clothes but you can't help but to take a peek at them and take the one that caught your eyes.

it was a white oversized shirt with a cute box cartoon drawn in front of it. you tried it on and it stopped perfectly on your thighs, making it look like a cute dress. surprisingly, it even matches the pair of sneakers you were wearing.

before you can even decide whether you were keeping it on or not, onew walked into your room. his hair a bit damp and he was only wearing a towel considering that he just took a shower.

"oh, is that my shirt?" he pointed at you.

"uh... yeah. do you mind? i just wanted to wear something that is yours." you sheepishly replied.

"no problem!" he beamed his big bright smile before proceeding to get his own outfit.

you muttered a thank you then went to your vanity to finish touching up your makeup. afterward, you grabbed your phone and wallet and placed them inside your shoulder bag.

"alright, I'm ready to go..." you trailed off as you saw what he looked like. "what the hell are you wearing, lee jinki?"

"your shirt?" he raised an eyebrow, clearly feigning ignorance.

he was wearing your favorite grey t-shirt and it looked pitiful on him, it was as if it can tear at any moment. it barely covered his abdomen and was stretched to its limit.

"no shit, sherlock." you facepalmed at his usual weirdness. "what i want to know is why... why are you wearing it?"

"i thought we were doing a thing wherein we wear each other's clothes." he shrugged as if his response should be expected.

"what? no! please have mercy on my shirt and put on your own clothes." you can't help but laugh at him as you pushed him back to the dresser.

"alright, alright! i just wanted to make you laugh and look, it worked perfectly." he playfully pinched the tip of your nose before taking off the top he borrowed. "also, you should keep that shirt since it looks a hundred--no, million--times better on you."

"thanks, love," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a warm hug.

key / kibum:

after the long busy months, you were finally having a girl's night with your best friends. you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your room to give yourself a final check. your hair was styled into textured waves and your lips were colored with the boldest red lipstick you can find. your nude heels matched the little black dress you were wearing. your outfit looked almost perfect and you just knew what you were missing. you quickly snatched key's gold leather jacket and put it on. ah, perfection.

this was the norm for you. your boyfriend's wardrobe was beyond incredible especially his outerwear collection and you just had to wear them every chance you can get. to be honest, key was very stubborn in letting you borrow his clothes... at first. after all the compromising, begging, and crying you made, he eventually budged and gave up. of course, it does not come for free. he practically made you sign a contract that once you stained his clothes, you have to shoulder the bill of the laundry and the shop will be chosen by him. however, if you damaged or god forbid, lost his clothes, you have to replace them. you immediately said yes to all of the conditions in a heartbeat. so far you only paid for 2 incredulously expensive laundry bills.

now, you were finally ready to leave. you walked out of the bedroom and made your way down the living room. there, key was sitting on the couch watching one of his favorite tv series.

"I'll be going out now," you announced as you grab your car keys near the front door.

"hey, hey, hey!" key clicked his tongue upon seeing your clothes. he was now looking behind his shoulder and giving you a stink eye. "is that my jacket?"

"um... maybe?" you gave him an awkward smile.

"of course, it's mine." he shook his head disapprovingly. "only i can pull that off, by the way." he sassily added.

"wow, i didn't know the fashion police was here. you should have given me a head's up, babe ." you bit back with a scoff. the last time you checked, you looked damn fine in it.

"just stating facts, baby," he replied in english.

"alright, then why don't you take me shopping then? so you can buy me a new set of clothes that will satisfy your standards." you challenged and if he said yes, you were clearly the winner.

"excuse me, i do call you 'baby' but i am not your sugar daddy. go now, you'll be late." he shooed you off.

"okay bye," a playful smirk appeared on your face. "daddy."

this made key rolled his eyes before turning his back on you. he would very much rather ignore you if you keep on acting that way.

"it's bye now, for real." you giggled as you open the door. "love you!" you called out before stepping out.

"love you too, brat." key mumbled with a small smile.

minho:

winter was approaching and the air was slowly becoming colder than usual. it was the best time to stay in the comfort of your warm home and enjoy hot cocoa with your loved ones. a perfect time to wear your sweaters and hoodies indoors. however, this was not the case for minho for his favorite hoodie was missing.

"hey, babe?" he called out from the bedroom. "have you seen my black hoodie? the one with the white writings on it."

"what's that, i didn't hear you?" you went inside a few seconds later.

and there it was, his favorite hoodie being worn by his favorite person. you looked smaller while wearing it since it was way too big for you. the hem almost touched your knees and your whole arms were lost inside the sleeves. he can't help but smile at the sight.

"nothing, i was just looking for my hoodie but it looks like i found it." he gestured at the clothes you were wearing.

"oh, shoot. sorry, i didn't tell you that i borrowed it." you hit your forehead with your palm.

"it's okay. you're free to use them anytime, anyway." he patted the top of your head.

within the last few weeks, minho noticed that you sometimes wear his clothes. it was not a daily thing though and you even asked for his permission. slowly, it became every day and he would just be surprised to see you walking around the house parading his jackets and sweaters. he didn't mind it though, he was just curious about what you do to your own clothing. also, he hoped that he still had some remaining tops for himself during the cold season.

well, guess luck was not on his side.

his eyes were staring at his closet wherein there was only one jacket left, one. you followed his gaze and you promptly felt the warmth raised to your cheeks. you were surely red from embarrassment now. you were happily wearing his clothes that you didn't have the time to count how much was left.

"oh my god, i'm sorry! i didn't--" you cut yourself off as you watched him put on the lone jacket from his dresser. "i'm sorry, i didn't notice it. i just... can't help myself. your jackets are so comfortable and warm compare to mine." you tried to explain yourself. also not to mention that they all smelled just like him.

"don't worry about it." he reassured you as he placed his arm around your shoulder. "just be mindful next time. i might end up half-naked someday, you know."

"how can you be so sure that's not my goal?" you teased before sticking your tongue out.

he laughed at your silliness and then pressed a soft kiss on your warm forehead. you decided to make a cup of hot cocoa for him as a peace offering.

taemin:

it was past midnight and it was raining cats and dogs outside. you visited taemin in his apartment for a stay-at-home dinner date but a storm came before you can even go back home. taemin then convinced you to spend the night there instead. it was not a big deal anyway since you stayed over a lot of times already. you just didn't bring your sleepover bag with you and the dress you were wearing was definitely not comfortable to sleep on.

your caring boyfriend of course promised to ease your worries. the two of you shared a warm bath after dinner and he lent you his clothes for you to change to. so that was how you ended up on his couch, fighting off sleep because the show you both were watching always had a cliffhanger ending per episode. you two needed some answers before you can drift off to sleep peacefully. it was the weekend tomorrow anyway so staying up late won't hurt that much.

your head was laying on his lap while his right hand was playing on the locks of your hair and his left one was comfortably resting on the top of your hip. his hand would occasionally rub circles on the exposed skin. as much as you hate to move from your cozy spot, you had to or else you might end up dozing off right there and then. not to mention, him playing on your hair does not help at all.

you slowly got up from the sofa as you tried to stifled a yawn. "i'll just go get some cold drink." you pushed yourself up from your seat.

you then raised your arms and stretched with a satisfied groan. your shoulders and back were sore after laying down for more or less 3 hours. you can even hear your joints cracking from stretching out. also, you felt the shirt you were wearing raised up.

taemin's shirts were not overly huge for you whenever you wore them. the hem barely covered your behind and right now you were sure that a tiny portion of your buttcheeks was peeking through the white tee. you weren't conscious about it, taemin saw much more than that anyway.

suddenly, you felt a slap across your behind which made you freeze on your spot. you looked behind and saw your boyfriend confidently leaning on the couch with his legs crossed.

"did you just slap my butt?" you inquired.

"uh-huh," he nodded with a cocky grin. "want me to spank you again?"

you frowned a little as you processed the sudden change of mood. taemin won't deny it though, seeing you in his shirts always made his heart skip a bit and his breathing ragged. you always looked effortlessly sexy in them.

"sure, why not?" you replied wickedly after a few seconds of silence.

taemin processed your answer in a split second and he hastily grabbed you by the waist and threw you on his broad shoulders. he did not forget you give you another smack on the ass when he made his way toward the bedroom, the television was completely forgotten.

[writerofthecourt]

reciprocal

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x reader

summary: for the past few days, the injuries on sakusa’s body couldn’t just be attributed to his soulmate’s clumsiness anymore. it was up to him to figure out the truth of the matter

warning: some references to bullying, some blood and injury

a/n: if this story seems familiar to anyone, it’s because i had a quotev account back in the day that used this same premise with different haikyuu character

Bruises and scrapes were a common sight that littered Sakusa’s body. With a soulmate such as yourself, it was no surprise to anyone that Itachiyama’s ace was usually painted black and blue from his injuries.

Soulmate bonds were both a blessing and a curse. To be so intimately connected to someone to the point of sharing and manifesting their pain was the tragic beauty of having a soulmate. Some people found this to be romantic, while others found it to be a liability. For Sakusa, it was more of a nuisance than anything, considering your unique ability to be so undeniably clumsy.

For the past few days, the injuries on Sakusa’s body were becoming much more frequent and annoying, especially since they were starting to become a hindrance during volleyball practice. When he had asked you about this issue, you had just smiled and pretended to be clueless. His worrying only lessened once you had repeatedly assured him that you were fine and sent him off to practice with a peck on the cheek.

Of course, everything would have been fine if it wasn’t for the pain now igniting from his right shoulder. The pain was so great that Sakusa felt his knees hit the floor, his hand clutching the spot where the pain was radiating from. Practice immediately halted as his teammates gathered around in worry.

Komori was the first one to reach him as he kneeled next to the ace. “Are you all right, Sakusa?”

“I’m fine,” Sakusa managed to say, though that was a complete lie. His shoulder felt like it had been set ablaze, and the wince on his face wasn’t convincing anyone.

“Maybe you should sit out for the rest of practice, Sakusa,” Iizuna calmly suggested.

“I said I’m fine. Let’s just get back to practice.”

Reaching out for Komori’s hand, Sakusa hoisted himself back to his feet and returned to his place on the court. Soon enough, everyone else began to follow his lead.

“I wonder what that was all about,” Sakusa heard his captain mumble.

“[Y/N]-chan probably fell or something,” Komori tried to rationalize before noticing the confused look on Iizuna’s face. “Oh, [Y/N]-chan is Sakusa’s soulmate, and she’s super clumsy. Don’t worry, this is normal for them…I think.”

“If you say so…but make sure Sakusa checks up on his soulmate. Just in case.”

Sakusa couldn’t help but scoff as he tuned out the rest of Komori and Iizuna’s conversation. He didn’t need to be told to check up on you, he was already planning to have a ‘little’ talk with you sometime tomorrow, and he was expecting answers.

Returning his attention back to practice, Sakusa tried to focus on his spikes and not the wave of concern that washed over him when his mind drifted off to the thought of you.

At the beginning of lunch the very next day, Sakusa promptly left his seat and made his way down the hall to your classroom. Loudly sliding the door open, a few students jumped in surprise and fear as Sakusa glared into the room, searching for his target. Spotting you at your desk, he quickly marched in and took a hold of your wrist, dragging you away to a remote corner of the hallway.

“Kiyoomi, you’re hurting me!” you said as he trapped you against the wall. Realizing that the pain was beginning to manifest on his own wrist, Sakusa immediately let go of your arm, but his glare stayed ever present.

“What happened?” he demanded more than asked.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

Not wanting to play this game, Sakusa brought up his hands and started to undo the first few buttons of your uniform top without a single word.

“Kiyoomi!” you whispered indignantly as your face began to heat up in embarrassment.

Ignoring your protests, Sakusa pulled the sleeve of your shirt down to reveal your right shoulder. His eyes widened in shock before anger overtook his pretty features. Your skin, once beautiful and perfect, was now decorated with a dark purple bruise. He had seen the same discolouration on his own shoulder earlier that morning when he was getting dressed, but he didn’t want to believe it.

He raised a hand to gently brush his fingers against the injury, but he immediately retreated once he saw your face contort in slight pain.

“I guess there was really no point in trying to hide it, huh?” he heard you say.

“What happened?” Sakusa repeated in a lighter tone this time, now looking at you with gentle concern.

Sakusa saw something spiral within your eyes before you diverted your gaze, suddenly finding the floor to be much more interesting. He lowered his hand and laced his fingers with yours. If not for the current situation, he would have mused about how perfectly your hand seemed to fit in his.

“[Y/N], tell me what happened.”

“I-I bumped my shoulder against a shelf while cleaning up my room yesterday,” you mumbled as you started to play with your sleeves, a habit of yours whenever you lied.

“You don’t get a bruise this big just by bumping into something,” he reasoned with a frown.

“It just happened, okay?” you snapped quickly.

“I don’t see why you just won’t tell me!” Sakusa retorted angrily, now matching your tone. “You’re supposed to-”

“Kiyoomi!” you shouted, and Sakusa felt himself slightly taken aback with shock. “Just trust me, okay? I can handle this myself. I don’t want to keep relying on you for everything, so just trust me!”

“…Fine,” Sakusa conceded after a moment of silence.

Feeling agitated and defeated, Sakusa backed away from the wall before letting out a frustrated sigh. As he began to walk away, he suddenly felt something knock itself into his back. Your arms locked around his stomach as you leaned your head against his back.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you for trusting me, Kiyoomi.”

Turning around to give you a proper hug, Sakusa securely wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on top of your head, not at all minding the possible germs that came from this interaction. You were always worth it.

“You really are a lot of trouble, you know that?” Sakusa sighed while rubbing circles on the small of your back.

“I love you too,” you giggled.

Using the tip of your toes to reach him, you pulled down Sakusa’s mask and gave your soulmate a quick farewell kiss. After fixing his mask and your shirt, you sent Sakusa a small smile and wave before walking off to class. On the way back to his own classroom, Sakusa couldn’t help but wonder if he had made the right decision.

“No,” Sakusa tried to convince himself. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Sakusa hated days when you had cleaning duties. It meant that you couldn’t walk with him to practice. His schedule was always busy, so Sakusa tried to spend as much time with you as possible, even if it was something as simple as holding your hand while walking to volleyball practice.

“And then he said, ‘What will you have after 500 years?’ And Mark was like—you aren’t even listening to me, are you?” Komori asked with an exasperated sigh, finally noticing that Sakusa’s attention was elsewhere.

“I can’t find my math notebook,” Sakusa replied plainly, still focused on rifling through his bag.

Komori paused for a moment before snapping his fingers in realization. “Didn’t you lend it to [Y/N]-chan at lunch today?”

Sakusa’s eyes lifted from his bag when he realized he had lent you his notebook. It wasn’t in his character to let anyone borrow his belongings, so whenever he did lend you something, it usually escaped his memory.

Sakusa muttered a low curse. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Komori only grinned in amusement before walking off to the gym on his own. “All right, I’ll see you soon.”

Nodding his head, Sakusa turned back towards the school. If he had to guess, you would have to be done cleaning up the classroom by now, meaning that he’d have to hurry if he wanted to catch you in time.

Hurrying down the halls and up the stairs, Sakusa soon found himself turning the corner that led towards the second year classrooms. Although there was no one in sight, Sakusa picked up on the quiet murmur of some voices, along with girls’ laughter. He thought nothing of it until a large crash captured his attention, and everything turned dead silent. At that moment, Sakusa felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as pain jolted throughout his body, and he almost staggered off his feet to the ground.

That could only mean one thing.

Running to the classroom, Sakusa saw a sight that had his blood boiling like never before, and he felt his mind go numb. He didn’t even notice how his nails were slightly drawing blood, as he only felt rage at that moment.

You were lying on the floor, blood pouring from the cut on your head that you had probably received from being pushed against the desks. Three girls surrounded your unconscious body, looking around frantically and panicking at the turn of events.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Sakusa managed to shout out.

“S-Sakusa-san!” one of the girls jumped. “W-we were just playing around, honestly! We never meant for this to happen!”

“I’m not in the mood for your excuses,” he said before his expression turned dark. “Leave, now.”

In an instance, the girls were gone, shivering in fright as they ran off. Sakusa felt himself calm down a bit after releasing a shaky breath, but he soon felt his rage reignite when he saw that the wound on your head was still bleeding profusely.

Kneeling next to your body, Sakusa hoisted you up and began his trip to the nurse’s office. In the middle of his maneuvering, you had quietly woken up and reached for his forehead where blood was spilling from the same wound.

“Kiyoomi, you’re bleeding…”

“And why do you think that is?!” Sakusa snapped at the mention of your matching wounds.

Ignoring his comment, you chose to ask where you were going.

“The nurse’s office to fix your idiotic mistake,” he replied harshly.

After arriving at the office, the nurse gave you and Sakusa a questioning look, but she said nothing as she swiftly wrapped and bandaged your injuries. She soon left for a faculty meeting, leaving you at the mercy of a very angry soulmate.

You sat against the headboard of the office’s medical bed, while Sakusa stood across from you with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. His mask was no longer present, having been abandoned, as it had been contaminated by the blood of his injury.

“So,” you began. “Lovely weather we’re having…”

“That’s not funny, [Y/N]. Now, start explaining.”

“All right, all right,” you sighed. “I guess it started a few days ago. At first, they were small favours, like buying them a few drinks. Then the favours became more demanding…I tried to tell them today that I wasn’t going to be their little servant anymore, but you know how that turned out…”

“So the bruise…?” Sakusa asked inquisitively.

“Yes, it was them,” you answered quietly.

You said nothing as Sakusa continued to frown before he eventually asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you started. “I knew that you would worry. You’re already so busy with school and volleyball, I didn’t want to add to your list of worries…”

“…You really are an idiot,” Sakusa mumbled before running a hand through his hair. He soon moved to sit next to you on the bed and took a hold of your hands in his. “I’m only going to say this once, so you better listen carefully. We’re soulmates for a reason. We’re supposed to be there for each other. Whenever you have a problem, we’re supposed to solve it together.

“I know that I don’t always act like it, but I care about you, a lot. So just like how I can trust you, you need to know that it’s all right to trust me. You can always depend on me to be there for you.”

When he was done with his rant, Sakusa felt his cheeks lightly flush red as he saw your blank expression. He hoped that he didn’t say too much.

“All right, Kiyoomi,” you finally said, a smile beginning to appear on your face. “No more secrets.”

Smirking in approval, Sakusa leaned in and lifted a hand to tilt your pretty face so that you were staring directly into his eyes. His voice was low and seductive as his thumb lightly brushed against the corner of your mouth.

“Good. Because the next time you keep a secret from me, I’m going to have to punish you.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Play Pretend

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~4170

Warnings: I don’t think there are any? Some language. Egregious amounts of fluff. A blanket fort and a Star Trek onesie. Gratuitous descriptions of Spencer Reid’s bone structure, because apparently I can’t help myself. 

A/N: For the “treat yo’ self” square on my @cmbingo​ card, and also for @railmereid​‘s 2k challenge! Prompt for the latter is bolded.

It’s been a godawful case, and in the BAU, that’s saying something. At least nobody ended up in the hospital this time? But as you all troop onto the jet in a straggly line of wrinkled clothes and puffy eyes, that’s about the brightest spot you can find in this whole fucking week. 

As you get settled, though, Hotch clears his throat. “Your attention, please. We’re taking a long weekend, Strauss’s orders.”

“Oh thank god,” you mutter under your breath.  

“Once we get back and grab our things, you are not to return to the office for a full seventy-two hours.” Hotch looks sternly (well, even more sternly) at Spencer, who’s on the couch next to you, curling up for a nap. “Understood? And you are not allowed to take case files home, Reid. I mean it this time.” 

“Understood,” he says grouchily. You can’t help but laugh at the pout on his face. 

“Seriously?” you ask. 

He shrugs, lips quirking up like he does actually realize what a ridiculous human being he is. “I have many talents, but ‘taking it easy’ is not one of them.” He does the air quotes, even.

“All those PhDs and you never got a degree in relaxation?” 

“That’s not—” He realizes you’re teasing and grins. “No. No I did not. I just… never really know what to do with myself, I guess?” 

“Shocking.” 

“What are you going to do, then?” 

“I am going to have a treat yo’ self day,” you declare proudly. 

“A what?” 

“You know, like in Parks and Rec?” He gives you a blank look. “No, you totally don’t know. Of course you don’t. But there’s this one episode where two of the characters have a ‘treat yo’ self’ day, and they go shopping and get, like, really self-indulgent things that they wouldn’t ordinarily buy themselves.”

He frowns. “You’re going shopping all weekend? You’ve never struck me as a particularly materialistic person.”

“Fuck, no. It’s more about indulging in experiences. Self-care. Things that make me feel relaxed. Just… whatever makes me happy.”

“Like what?” He still has this totally puzzled look on his face, with his nose wrinkled up. It’s so much more endearing than it has any right to be. 

“I like painting. I’m not good at it, but I like it, so I’m gonna get some new paints and a big canvas and make a mess, because it makes me happy.” 

“Huh.” 

“What about you, then? What do you do to relax?”  

“That’s… a good question, honestly.” 

“Well, what’s your idea of a perfect day?” 

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise you that self-care is a foreign concept to him. You wait patiently as he overthinks it.

“Perfect seems unrealistic,” he concludes wryly. 

“So, like, remember when you were a kid and you walked into a really awesome toy store?” you prompt. “Just feeling that sort of carefree, giddy kind of happy?” 

“Not really.” He shrugs. 

“What did make you feel like that, though?” you ask. “When you were younger? There had to be something.” 

“I think I just — I didn’t do much normal kid stuff.” He lets out a huff of a laugh and runs his hands through his messy curls, suddenly self-conscious. “Didn’t get to play pretend, or… I don’t know. Didn’t have time.” 

“Right,” you say softly. “Sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about.” 

You nod, throat suddenly tight. “Yeah. Get some sleep, Spencer. Sweet dreams.” 

He gives you a tired half-smile and tugs his blanket up to his chin, tucking his hands under his cheek, and the dark hollows under his eyes are hidden by his long lashes as he falls asleep almost immediately. You need to rest too, but it takes you a while; you sneak a glance at him every so often, feeling that twist under your breastbone that happens all too often when you’re around Spencer. 

By the time the jet lands, though, you have a plan. 

* * * * *

You second-guess your plan approximately a thousand times on your way over to Spencer’s the next morning. When you get to his door, you almost convince yourself to walk away before you manage to knock; is this totally presumptuous? Is Spencer going to think you’re ridiculous? Is the whole thing just plain stupid? 

Then again, you were stupid enough to fall for Spencer in the first place, so. What’s another stupid decision on top of that whole mess? 

When he opens the door, he’s wearing pajama pants, a t-shirt, and a phenomenally hideous bathrobe, and he’s all messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, and for a moment you’re panicking because oh shit I woke him up. It’s almost noon, to be fair, but he did have some serious sleep to catch up on. Then you notice the coffee mug in his hand, and after a moment of relief, that morphs into more of a oh shit he’s so fucking beautiful type of panic. 

You’re used to that, though. 

Then you realize he’s staring at you, smiling but puzzled, and you haven’t explained yourself. Oops. 

“Um. Trick or treat yourself day?” you blurt out, hoisting your shopping bags and giggling at your own lame joke. “I… brought you something. Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you — I should’ve texted, I just—”

“You’re always a good surprise,” Spencer says shyly, and then seems to shake himself. “Come in. Sorry. Coffee?” 

“Please.” 

You set down your shopping bags and follow him to the kitchen, where he fixes you a mug of your own — exactly how you like it, because of course he remembers. Then he takes a couple deep gulps of his own sugar-sludge and tops it up, and by the time you go back out to the living room, he’s starting to look vaguely awake. 

“What’s all this about?” he finally asks, head cocked to look curiously at the bags. 

“Well,” you start slowly. Now that you have to say it out loud, it sounds even more stupid. “I was thinking a treat yourself day would be a lot more fun with company, and it seems like… maybe you’re overdue for some of that? For… self-indulgence, and just, like, enjoying yourself without worrying. And you deserve it. So. You wanna?” 

His eyes are soft and bright, oddly vulnerable, and a smile spreads slowly across his face, twitchy at the edges like he’s not sure he’s allowed to smile yet. 

“Really? I don’t know what to do, though.” 

“Well, I have some ideas about that. But first, you gotta make a deal with me.” The way he’s beaming makes you feel a whole lot more confident as you tell him, very seriously, “This is the sacred covenant of treat yourself day. You have to solemnly swear to do whatever you want. Anything you can dream up. Indulge every whim. Take an oath to give in to every one of your silly, random, frivolous desires, without any form of self-denial or doubt. Can you do that, Spencer?” 

“I can try,” he says, and his voice cracks. It’s like he can’t shape the words, with the way his smile has taken over his entire face. 

“Okay, good enough. And… I have a few ideas.” 

“Like what?” 

You shrug. “Like… some things I thought maybe you didn’t get to do as a kid? Here, let me—”

You rummage until you find what you were looking for, and then you turn around, holding it out like an offering. Spencer’s mouth drops open. 

“Is that a Captain Kirk costume?” he asks squeakily. 

“It’s a Captain Kirk onesie,” you correct. “And it’s for you.” 

“Holy—” 

He shucks the bathrobe and sets down his coffee hastily, and he’s zipping the onesie up before you can say “Beam me up,” looking down at himself with this joy on his face, totally giddy in a way you’ve never seen him before, and holy hell, even if he hates the rest of your ideas, this will be one hundred fifty percent worth it for the memory of that smile on Spencer’s face. 

“I have one too,” you admit, and pull your Chewbacca onesie out of your backpack. Once you’re both appropriately attired, you tell him, “Next order of business is cartoons.” 

“I don’t actually have TV?” he says apologetically. “I mean, I have a TV, but it’s only for —” 

You grin. “I came prepared, though!” 

Spencer’s the only person you know who still has a VHS player, but you’ve been holding onto some things you rescued from your parents’ attic a while back; you find your VHS of Tom & Jerry cartoons and wave it at him triumphantly. 

“I’ve never watched that before.” He examines the cover, bemused. 

“It’s essential viewing.” 

“Okay,” he says slowly.

While he performs whatever arcane ritual makes his ancient TV work (there’s like a rain dance and an animal sacrifice involved, you’re pretty sure) you settle on the couch, nesting in all the blankets and sipping your coffee contentedly. Spencer presses play and sits down next to you, but you can feel his uncertainty; he’s holding himself stiffly, and he keeps sneaking glances at you. 

“Spit it out,” you tell him, a few minutes in. “If you hate it, you can just say so, Spence. I won’t take it personally.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not that! I just — is this really how you want to spend your Saturday?” 

“What do you mean?” You have a Chewbacca onesie, a perfect cup of coffee, and great company; you’re not entirely sure how this could get any better. 

“Doing nothing,” he mumbles. “This is… there are so many things you could be doing. Don’t you have a whole list of things you wanted to do? But instead… I don’t know. You’re here. With me.” 

Sometimes you want to scream until he realizes how awesome he is, but the screaming is probably not the best way to convey that particular message. 

Instead, you keep your voice very quiet as you tell him, “There is absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be right now.” 

It’s a little too true. Your cheeks burn as you turn back to the TV, trying not to dwell on the way you can see him watching you in your peripheral vision. 

“Okay,” he says hoarsely. He settles himself more comfortably into the blanket nest, and before long, he’s giggling along with you. 

You watch in peaceful silence for a little while, but at some point, Spencer’s stomach growls, and you pause the tape to make food — chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream, as per his verdict on “ultimate treat food.” As it turns out, he knows a lot about the science of cooking, but not a whole lot about the actual practice, so he sits cross-legged in a chair and directs you to various cabinets as you measure and mix and whisk. When you get the batter poured out on the griddle, he’s pattering on about the chemical differences between baking soda and baking powder. 

He looks utterly dismayed when the first chocolate chip hits his forehead. Turns out his lack of hand-eye coordination applies to mouth-eye coordination too, and the floor is littered with semi-sweet projectiles before he actually catches one, but he’s laughing, so you really can’t bring yourself to care. 

The pancakes are a total success. When you’re both stuffed and sugar-high, you grab the syrupy plates and bring them to the sink for a quick rinse. 

“You don’t have to,” Spencer protests. You ignore him. His next words are much softer, scratchy and hoarse: “Thank you. I don’t — just — thank you.” 

“Nothing to thank me for,” you say briskly. Then you turn around, and you freeze, because he’s a whole lot closer than you thought he was; he’s right there, close enough that you could reach out and run your fingers through his hair, or trace the sharp line of his jaw. 

He has a tiny streak of whipped cream at the corner of his mouth, right where his lips curl up as he smiles, and for a second you can barely breathe with how much you want to stand up on your tiptoes and see if he tastes as sweet as he looks. 

For a second he looks like he wants you to. He’s frozen too, for a moment, and you can hear his breath catch, but then he scoops you up in a hug, squeezing tight. And yeah, it’s just friendly, but it’s a hug from Spencer, and that happens rarely enough that it feels like a treat of its own, so you go with it, forehead pressed to his shoulder, heart racing.

When he releases you, you tell yourself you’re not disappointed. 

“Right,” you say, bossy to cover how flustered you feel. “Back to business.” 

“I think I need more practice sitting still,” Spencer confesses, following you back out to the couch. “It feels weird just… not doing anything.” 

You pause, deliberating. “Well, we could keep our hands busy?” 

With a quick rummage, you produce paint and an extra large pad of paper, holding them up for Spencer’s inspection. He frowns. 

“I don’t have any paintbrushes.” 

“They’re finger paints,” you say, grinning, and he laughs. 

“Of course they are.” 

You set everything up on the coffee table while Spencer presses play, and the two of you sit down on the floor, side by side. Spencer looks down at his onesie, then at the paint, frowning. 

“It’s all washable, Spencer.” 

“Still,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to take it off, but —” 

He unzips the onesie halfway, peeling the arms off and letting the fabric bunch up around his waist. 

“There we go, putting that genius brain to work,” you tease, but you’re touched that he cares enough about your present to worry about stains. 

It’s hard to ignore how close you’re sitting. You do your best, keeping your eyes on either the TV or your masterpiece of Abstract Expressionism, but Spencer’s knee is pressed to yours, a constant warm pressure, and your hands keep brushing as you both reach for containers of paint, and you can smell him, like vanilla and maybe old books. The whole thing has you feeling flushed. 

Other than that, though, it’s comfortable. It’s always been easy to talk to Spencer, which makes sense considering how much he knows about every subject imaginable, but it surprises you sometimes how easy it is not to talk to him, too. Silence isn’t awkward, with him. Neither of you say anything for the next hour or so. You just giggle at the TV and paint, wordless and companionable, and it’s the happiest you’ve felt in… longer than you care to admit. 

Life is rarely perfect, especially not in your line of work, but this? This is pretty close. 

As the credits start to play, you stretch, and then you look at his paper. It takes you a second to recognize yourself, but the likeness is unmistakable. Spencer’s got the exact angle of your eyebrow when you’re looking at him skeptically — apparently you do that often enough that he’s memorized the expression. He somehow managed to capture your smile, the curve of your lips, all in tiny delicate pinky-strokes of purple and turquoise… trust Dr. Spencer Reid to bring that level of precision to finger-painting, and oh god you are not going to think about his fingers any more. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Yeah,” you manage. You clear your throat. “Yeah, I really do.” 

Then he makes it worse by rubbing the side of his neck, bashful and self-conscious, smearing blue-green paint from his collarbone to the sharp line of his jaw, and he’s so busy smiling at you that he doesn’t seem to notice. He swallows, and his Adam’s apple dips, shifting a streak of color, making it flicker. It’s such a silly thing, but it draws your attention to his skin — makes you want to touch. Worst of all, it reminds you that he’s already art, that the shape of him, the delicate precise way he’s put together, is more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen in a museum. 

It reminds you that you want some things you can never, ever have. 

“You’ve got — um,” you say, gesturing helplessly. He blinks at you, slow like he’s coming out of a trance, and tucks his hair behind his ear, smearing more paint there before he remembers. You giggle, sharp and nervous, and it breaks the tension all at once. Spencer laughs too, rolling his eyes at himself. You get up clumsily to go grab a wet paper towel from the kitchen. 

The moment is gone, but your heart is still racing. 

“What’s next?” Spencer asks softly, once you’re both cleaned up. 

He missed a tiny spot; there’s a blue smudge right at the corner of his jaw, and you want to touch it, feel it under your fingertips, see if the skin is as soft as it looks, right there where the bone stretches it thin. 

“Blanket fort,” you blurt out, before you can do anything embarrassing. 

His eyes light up. 

It really shouldn’t surprise you that Spencer and his engineering PhD make quick work of a pile of sheets and clothespins. You’re pretty sure that he could revolutionize the entire field of blanket fort construction, if left to his own devices, but you keep poking him when he gets lost in his head or starts muttering calculations to himself. The point is having fun. 

The end result is a lot more Frank Lloyd Wright than any of your childhood creations, but Spencer looks absolutely gleeful, so. It’s the spirit of the thing. 

“One more thing,” you say. “Do you have any Christmas lights?” 

Spencer frowns. “I don’t — oh! Wait!” 

He runs to the closet, and he ends up halfway inside the closet, digging around on his hands and knees. You’re about to make a crack about Narnia when he comes out, holding up a box with a triumphant smile. 

You read the label: “Halloween decorations 3 of 4.” 

Because of course Spencer Reid has Halloween lights. He pulls out several long ropes of them; a couple are shaped like tiny skulls, one is strung with Jack-o-Lanterns, and two could pass as Christmas lights if they weren’t orange and purple. You help him detangle the knot of them and drape them over and through your fort, and when you turn out the normal lights and draw his heavy curtains, the whole thing glows in patches of orange and purple and white. 

“After you,” you tell Spencer, and he crawls in without any more prompting. 

There’s more than enough room to sit up, but Spencer is lying down on his back in the nest of blankets and pillows that you’d relocated from the couch. He’s staring up at the “ceiling” in silence, eyes glittering with some unreadable expression where they catch the twinkling shards of light. You make yourself comfortable next to him, looking up and wondering what he’s seeing. 

“I always wondered what the appeal was,” he whispers. “Of blanket forts. And… childhood in general, I guess.” 

“You grew up pretty fast, huh?” you say quietly. 

“Yeah. And I never — I feel like most of the team doesn’t take me seriously sometimes. Like I’m still a kid to them. I always feel like I have to prove myself.” 

Your instinct is to deny it automatically, but you know what he means. They laugh him off for his quirks, for the way he gets excited about things and for the things he gets excited about. That’s what’s so incredible about him, though: that dichotomy of knowledge and curiosity, the breathless excitement when he makes a discovery.

“I liked pretending I had my own little world,” you tell him. “Blanket forts. Felt like I could actually shut all the bad things out.” 

“Still feels like that,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Nothing wrong with acting like a child, sometimes. We need that. Even if it’s just pretend.” 

“I think I get it now.” 

“Hmm?”

He’s silent for a long moment before he says, “In here, everything’s perfect.” 

“Or we can pretend it is.” 

You turn your head to find Spencer looking at you, and he doesn’t look away when your eyes meet. You barely want to blink for fear of breaking whatever spell you’re under. 

There’s something raw and earnest and almost scared shining all over his face, like you’re catching a glimpse of the child he used to be, before the world taught him to put on a brave face and keep his most intense feelings to himself. It makes you feel shaky in ways you were really not prepared for. 

There’s a heavy moment of silence. You’re painfully aware of how loud your breathing sounds. 

It’s a hell of a thing, to have his focus like this. You fell in love with him watching him work; you know how intensely he can devote himself to a task, to a puzzle, to a map… and every so often, when the two of you talk, he focuses all that brilliance on you, and he listens so completely that you feel his attention like a spotlight. 

That’s when he usually looks away, dropping his gaze like it’s something to be embarrassed about, because too many people have told him to stop staring. 

He’s not looking away now. He turns onto his side to completely face you, curling up in that sweetly childish way with his hands between his cheek and the pillow, and you mirror him.

“Feels like we’re alone.” 

He’s right; there are no distractions, no excuses to be made, no interruptions. It’s just the two of you, and it’s terrifying. 

“Feels safe,” you whisper, because that’s true too. Your heart is racing, and it’s like you can hear your pulse in your ears, but it’s the quietest sort of panic you’ve ever felt. “I think that was exactly what I wanted, after the last couple weeks. To get away. To feel safe.” 

There’s an orange light throwing most of his face into shadow, but you can see the corner of his mouth a little too clearly. You’re maybe a foot apart. It would be so easy — 

“We don’t get that often.” His voice is barely more than a breath. 

“Safety?” 

“That too, but —” His breath hitches, and he clears his throat. “What we want. I don’t usually get what I want, but this was — this was very close to perfect.” 

“Yeah, well, when is life ever perfect?” You manage a smile. “What would make it perfect? If you could have anything.”

“It’s not something I can have, though.” 

“So pretend. It’s just us, and there are no rules today. What would it be?”  

He bites his lip. “I don’t think —” 

“For once in your life, Spencer, stop overthinking it,” you half-laugh, and then he’s propping himself up on one elbow, shifting forward, leaning closer, close close close until he’s all you can see, and —

He kisses you. 

It’s the most gentle, feather-light brush of a kiss you’ve ever felt, barely more than a graze of his parted lips over yours. It’s there, and then it’s gone again before you can even begin to process the sensation. 

As your eyes flutter open you can already see the fear setting in, dark intense gaze fixed on you as he inhales sharply. 

You’re still trying to remember how to breathe; you’re too stunned to react beyond blinking at him. 

“I’m sorry. Can we just —” He shakes his head, hand over his mouth like he’s trying to hold onto the kiss. “Do you think we could pretend — can we pretend I didn’t do that? I’m so sorry.” 

“I don’t want to pretend,” you say shakily.  

He stares. 

This doesn’t seem real. It’s such a strange moment that you might as well be trapped in a Dali canvas. There’s fingerpaint on his face, and he’s wearing a Captain Kirk command uniform onesie, and there’s a tiny Jack-o-Lantern glowing over his head. If you’d imagined the “perfect” moment, this would not be it. 

But you reach out, running your fingertips over the dark smudge of paint on his jaw, and the skin is hot and smooth. He shivers at the touch. It’s real. 

“Spencer?” Your throat is tight, but you manage a choked, “I want you to kiss me again.” 

He does, with a careful hand cupped to your cheek and a smile curling his lips when they meet yours. You run your fingers through his hair, and you both laugh when they catch on dried paint. 

“Perfect,” he whispers. 

It really is. 

.

.

.

[spenciegoob]

Swing to the Stars

this fic swap is for @reidgraygubler​ ... I really hope you like it, shadow :)

A/N: AAAAH! this is my first fic swap and I’M SO EXCITED!!!!

Summary: Spencer meets someone in his little hiding spot, and desperately hopes to see them again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: fluff with a dash of angst

Content Warnings: mentions of Maeve & William Reid, talk of a case involving teens, mentions of bullying, mentions of guns and pepper spray (not used)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

The first time I climbed that treacherous hill, dirtying my converse for all to see what my night activities truly consisted of, I was alone. I enjoyed it like that, I came here by myself, and I intended to keep it that way. When I sat on the swing dangling by two dangerously flimsy ropes, I thought how ridiculously large the slap of wood used to make it was. My elbows were bent a little over a 90 degree angle just to reach both sides, but I never thought past it. I had other things on my mind that night.

I thought about my mom. I knew she would have loved a secluded, little space like this. She would’ve probably read to me here, using different voices that held deep emotion to convey each story with a precise amount of dedication and love. Each story to her was special, and I silently thank her every day for passing that trait down to me. 

Unfortunately, if I thought about my mom, I thought about my dad. William was never a kind man, and I could pride myself on one thing; I would never be like him. He didn’t deserve to know a place like this. It was too serene, too beautiful to house a man so willing to abandon the two people who should’ve been the most important to him. I was glad he would never get the chance to sit on this swing.

I thought about my family. How Garcia would jump with excitement at the prospect of having a picnic overlooking the city, yet quiet and missing the sounds of cars zooming by or overlapping chatter. I thought about JJ, and how Henry would beg her to push him in the swing, because to a little kid, it was perfect. He didn’t look at the frayed rope and fear that it would snap. I hope he never starts to fear the world like that.

The second time I found myself back at the bottom of the hill, I made it halfway to the top before seeing a couple getting up from the swing they were sitting together on. I realized then why it was so comically large; it was meant for two people. Thankfully when I reached the top only half out of breath, the two were starting their descent to where I came from.

This time when I sat down, I thought about Maeve. I would’ve brought her here, shared the little secret corner of the world I built for myself. She would’ve loved something like this, and I know if life wasn’t so cruel, and I was given the chance to show her, we would’ve talked for hours. So that’s what I did that time; I talked to Maeve. To anyone else, I probably looked like a crazy person talking to himself, but much to my delight, not many people made the trip up the hill to find this place.

Now I go whenever I need a break from my mind, which unfortunately is more times than my schedule allows me to take that leisurely walk. I spend my nights sometimes after a particularly hard case there no matter the time, using the ropes that scratch my hands as my lifeline down to Earth. I watch the stars, screaming and cursing at the world in my head and waiting for the sky to respond. It never did, and the next case always came in the following morning.

This particular time that I found myself at the bottom of the grassy hill waiting to be climbed, the case I just returned from involved kids across the board. A teenage unsub was killing his fellow classmates that have wronged him. Unfortunately, the BAU had to witness his stressor recorded for the whole school to see. It involved vile insults being thrown at the young, defenseless boy only for the bullying to escalate to violence.

It was awful.

As I trudged up the hill with less excitement to look into the vast unknown than usual, I couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub. All he wanted in life was a friend, someone to talk to, laugh with, share memories together. No matter how wrong it was, I saw myself in him. Our souls held the same scars given to us by people who had no right to go digging for such a deep part of ourselves. If I didn’t make it, would I have turned out like him?

When I reached the top, completing my journey once again, I saw them. Sitting there, staring out into the sky, mimicking my thoughts to do the same on the jet ride home. I could only make out half their face lit up by the light casting down from the full moon, but I didn’t need to see more to know they were breathtaking.

I would have turned around to return home to nothing more than books reread thousands of times and stale coffee, but I already made the mistake of stepping on a rather large branch that broke in half. The crunch coming from their right immediately had them on edge, and reaching for their bag that I could only assume had some sort of weapon inside. I hope it was legal.

I felt terrible for breaking them from the trance they were in. They were deep in thought about something that was probably going to become a solution if I hadn't interrupted their musing. 

“H-hi, I’m sorry to scare you. I didn’t expect anyone here this late. Not that you being here is a problem! I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I frantically shouted, although there was less distance between us than I originally thought, and probably seemed crazed by my volume level.

They just giggled at first, but upon seeing my distraught expression, their face turned more kind than humorous.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad I didn’t jump so fast to pepper spray you. That would definitely be the worst case scenario.” I let out a breath of relief for some reason. Here I was, in front of a total stranger thankful that their weapon of choice wasn’t a gun. I’ve been on the wrong end of too many during my years.

“Did you know Chemical Mace, more commonly known as pepper spray, was invented in the 1960s by a man named Alan Lee Litman and his wife Doris Litman at the time. Their reason was actually because one of Doris’s female coworkers was attacked and robbed, so they thought to create a nonlethal weapon with easy accessibility and use, considering not everyone is able to use a gun. It wasn’t until 1987 however that the Litman’s sold their creation to Smith and Wesson where it was mass produced and later sold to law enforcement.”

“Wow, I don’t think I did.” They laughed again, but something in my heart told me it wasn’t meant to come with malicious intent. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” I asked, even though I had some inclination of what they were referencing.

“Spout random facts. I’m not complaining, that was very cool, but I am fully intrigued.” They smiled again at me fondly, the kind of smile that left me a little breathless, even more so than the 45 degree incline I had to climb to find myself in front of them. There was nothing to convince me they weren’t authentic in every word they stated.

“I do it quite often, yes. It gets annoying after a while though.” It was true, I was told on many occasions that my rambling got old very fast. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re close to me for too long. I tend to stop being the awe-striking genius, and become the nagging, walking encyclopedia.

“I don’t see how that could become annoying.” It sounded sad coming from them, like I had insulted their oddity. I would never, and I was really hoping to find out what it was.

I had nothing further to say that would express my shock, and slight fondness over their praise, wary of its honesty even if it did come from them. I hadn’t known them for more than 4 minutes and 36 seconds, but it was enough to figure out that they weren’t a liar. It wasn’t from profiling either.

“You know, there is room for two people here if you wanted to join me. I’m sure you didn’t climb that hill for nothing.” They continued for me. If they noticed my surprise, they said nothing about it. 

Usually, I would be skeptical of being in a close proximity with a stranger, but as I approached them carefully, even if their hand was no longer reaching for mace, I felt the passing between our eyes. It was as if we had shared every part of ourselves with eye contact, and as crazy as it sounds, I felt the somber thoughts that lingered from their previous reflections.

So I sat down, grabbing onto only one of the scratchy ropes, and enjoying the way I could rest my elbow against my side now that I was using the swing to its fullest potential. I stopped caring about the probability of the ropes snapping under our combined body weight. The worst that could possibly happen was I bruised my tailbone a little bit, but I wouldn’t care past the initial embarrassment. At least I had someone to show that with.

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” They asked once I was settled on the wood slab as comfortably as I could muster. Being boney didn’t necessarily help. Before I could answer, they continued. “I can tell you’re a man of science, if the fact dump wasn’t any indicator, but I mean beyond the facts, and the known.”

“No, I don’t think about it.” It was a lie, I think about it every time I’m here, but I wanted nothing more in this moment than to know how they saw the stars.

“I do. Quite frequently, actually. I mean, I’ve read every book there ever was about the stars and space, but there is still no answer to my question.”

“What question?” I had to know.

“What’s exactly written in the stars,” they replied, using their hands to showcase the sky above us. I sat back and thought for a while. Like the books they’ve read, I too didn’t have the response to their question. God, how I wish I did.

I don’t know how long we sat there quietly. One of the perks of total darkness in the dead of night is that the moon couldn’t tell time the way the sun did. We got lost in the cosmos together, contemplating sharing our own troubled thoughts with each other. It would have felt right if we did, but alas, the ringing of my cell phone dropped a pin in our reflections.

“I- I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I rushed out before standing up and accepting the incoming call from Penelope. I knew it was a case before her bubbly voice rang through my celular. I allowed the disappointment to bleed through my tone when I told her I would be back at the BAU shortly, hoping that the small release of the emotion would be enough to ward it off in time to turn back around. 

It didn’t.

They were already looking at me expectantly when I made my way back to the swing, bending down to retrieve my satchel I had abandoned on the ground. The amount of guilt on my face must have been enough to tell them I had to leave abruptly, despite the fact that the only thing I wanted to do was stay for even just a second.

“That’s okay,” they spoke softly, giving me a tight lipped smile. “We’ll see each other again.”

“How do you know?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Life never did work out in my favor. They looked up at the sky once more before answering.

“Just a feeling.” I let a full grin break out at their response, the first one I’ve had when visiting this place. I turned around to start my journey back to the office where dark, and twisted things lurked behind manilla folders. Before starting my descent however, I spun around quickly, almost losing my footing and taking a tumble.

“Woah there tiger, don’t hurt yourself,” they giggled at me, one that I returned with my own breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know your name.” It baffled me a little bit that I hadn’t thought to ask before this, but they just gave me one last smile, tilting their head in faux contemplation.

“Ask me next time.” I will.

***

It’s been a year since I met them, and I haven’t seen them since. Not for a lack of trying however. After that case, I went there every night until a new one arose, this time taking me to Oregon. They hadn’t been back, and part of me wondered if it was because of me. Did I not try hard enough the first time? Should I have ignored my ringer until my phone had 5 missed calls from Penelope?

But then my eidetic memory swooped in to save me from going down that road, one of the only times it wasn’t the cause of my self destructive thoughts. Because while I replayed the conversation over in my head wondering where it went wrong, I remembered their eyes, and their smile.

I remembered what it felt like to sit with them, and thankfully that was enough to convince myself our meeting wasn’t in vain.

I never was the kind of man to believe in the universe. The whole notion that “everything happens for a reason,” felt like a lie created to somehow blame an external force on the chaos in one’s life. There were so many things in my life that had no reason for happening, and to blame that on anything or anyone but myself would be a cheap excuse of a way out.

But for some odd reason, the universe aside, I believed in them, and strangely enough, I don’t think they would have blamed me for the life I had to live. So, as I sit down tonight on this familiar piece of wood, I choose to stare at the stars instead of the ground, and believe that if I spoke aloud, maybe they would hear me.

And they did, because my efforts to sit on one side of the swing in case they returned to me were not in vain. I didn’t look over, I didn’t have to to know it was them. I had already relaxed once their presence was known in my peripherals.

“Y/N,” they spoke, causing me to change my view on the stars to their side profile. It wasn’t all that different than staring at the constellations spread around us. “My name’s Y/N.”

___

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[xneens]

i do

Warning: language, major character death, violence, angst

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Soulmate AU where the last words you will ever hear from your soulmate is written on your wrist so you won't know it's them until you've lost them.

Staring at the words on your wrist, you held back another sigh, tracing the black ink with your finger, dread and sadness washing over you. You shuddered at the words, unable to rid of the lump in your throat.

I do.

Born with the words on your wrist, no one knew when they would meet their soulmates, unknown to who your other half was until they died. It was cruel, knowing the last thing they'll say to you would cause you immense pain. Horror stories stemmed from the agonies of other's pain, movies made out of the tales that would become famous.

Some, those who were protective of their hearts, buried themselves away from others, but fate always led them to their soulmate. No matter how short the time would be stretching from the duration of your life to a single second before you'd lose them. The best outcome to happen was when two lovers let go, and spend their lives together, to die at when they were to, finding out they had spent their lives with their one and only. That possibility was becoming more and more realistic with modern technology and wishful thinking.

Yet, there was some tragedies. The unfortunate ones would have their sentences written on their wrist, knowing they'd only know their soulmate for a short time, or not at all. “It's nice to meet you.” "What's your name?" "Can I get your number?" "Sounds like a date." Not knowing them at all was, to most, was worse than to know them at all.

A few rare situations when your soulmate would die young. Parents told horror stories, reading the words off their kid's wrist. "We're playing dodgeball in gym!" "I didn't do my math homework." "You can come to my birthday party. I'm turning seven next week!"

Then there were the most terrifying stories. They were the ones turned into thrillers, a real life story turned into a disrespectful horror movie. They'd lose each other, aware there was nothing they could do. "I thought you locked the door." "I don't think we're alone." "Behind you!" "Someone's in the house."

Thankful none of the situations applied to you, you still couldn't get the words branded in your wrist out of your head. It lingered, whispering the last words before your heart would be torn, only healed when death came for you. Some looked on the positive side, knowing meeting their soulmate was inevitable.

Natasha broke you out of your reverie as she tackled you down on the mat, leaving you breathless at the sudden attack, confused to how you've become acquaintances with the ground. You spit your hair out, grimacing in disgust as a few strays stuck to your lips. With your hands tied behind your back, and crushed against the former assassin's body, you turned your attention on her smug smile, glaring daggers.

"Okay, get off before Tony pictures us scissoring again." you grunted, too tired to push her off of you. Natasha laughed, letting your wrists go as she shifted her weight off of you, sitting next to you on the thick mat. You rolled onto your back, closing your eyes in exhaustion. "That was unnecessary, Nat."

Spending the day at the gym with Natasha seemed like a good idea after being beaten by Clint the day before. You knew you were getting rusty, without all the life threatening missions and people to save, your skills wasn't needed. Besides, you loved yourself too much for Steve to convince you to join him on his suicide runs. He woke up before the sun rose, and it only took a few runs to realize that even you couldn't keep up with his fast pace. ("Although, I would love to see his fast pace in the bedroom. Ow, Sam!")

After tying the score—despite the lack of training, you and Natasha still tied when it came to hand to hand combat—you had sat down on the bench, which was now sweaty, and sulked, sighing over the words written on your wrist.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbows as she eyed your expression, eyes narrowing when you didn't return her smile. "What's with the sad face? Are you thinking about your soulmate mark again?"

"You know I only allow myself to think about it once every other month." you replied. Natasha made a noise in respond but you ignored it. "Shut up, I know I'm pathetic. No need to voice your opinions."

"You're not pathetic, just compassionate." she whispered, her eyes sparkling with remembrance. Natasha had lost her soulmate on a mission a few years before the Avengers were formed, but it didn't stop her from living her life. You hoped you could follow her path when the horrid time came. "Out of curiosity, if you had to guess, do you think you've met your soulmate by now?"

You've given it much thought, coming up with a good theory that even Tony Stark would be impressed by. Of course, you didn't share it with anyone, giving Nat the simplified version of it. "With the amount of people I've met, I like to think so."

The playful smirk returned to her lips, a wiggle of her eyebrows as she digested your words. "And do you think a certain blond, big-hearted, super soldier might be it?"

You reached for the nearest water bottle, throwing it at her only to have it hit the wall behind her as she dodged it. Natasha laughed, putting distance between you, sensing an attack. You scowled at her but it lacked real annoyance. "Oh my, God. I have, like, the smallest crush on him and you're already planning our children's proms."

"I'm thinking: under the sea." Natasha joked, grinning when the corner of your lips curled up. The both of you burst out laughing, thinking about Natasha in a ridiculous kid-friendly dress as she chaperoned yours and Steve's future offsprings.

As if summoned, Steve chose that moment to enter the training room, freezing in his tracks when he saw you and Natasha cackling. His expression made Natasha double back into another round of laughter while yours subsided in giggles. Steve cleared his throat, looking down as a slight blush decorated his face.

He murmured your name, walking up towards you, his blue eyes eyeing the ground with too much interest. "Did you hear about the party Tony is making all of us go to?"

Natasha stopped laughing immediately, jaw clenching at Tony's betrayal. They had a truce where Natasha would stop hacking into his system to play Spice Girls—with the help of Bruce, of course—and Tony was to stop throwing parties every month. It's been three months since the last party, the one where Natasha has almost killed the billionaire. Tony couldn't hold off any longer. She stood. "I'm going to kill him."

Before either of you could get a word in, Natasha was already out the door, her stance deadly as Tony Stark awaited his death. The door slammed close behind her as Steve sat down beside you on the mat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

You admired his ruffled hair, blond strands hanging down on his forehead. You had mentioned to him that he looked sexier with his long hair, and it seemed like he was following your advice. Dressed in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Steve Rogers was every girl's waking fantasy. It truly was unfair how good he could look in sweats.

"Hey." you greeted, smiling sweetly at him. Being happy around Steve was as easy as giving Pepper Potts presents. He returned the smile, grinning from ear to ear as he looked away, his cheeks reddening even more. "What can I do for you, Stevie?"

"Thor wanted to have some kind of Asgardian contest that may or may not level the top floor. I thought you might want to do something else, have a peaceful night instead of risking our lives to one of Thor's games?" he asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not letting excitement cloud your senses, you grew cautious, eyes narrowing as you looked around the room, trying to search for a hidden camera that would allow Tony to get you back from ruining his thousand-dollar crocs. Steve Rogers was not asking you out in no way.

Steve saw your expression, quickly backing off. "Only if you want to. I'm sure you missed Thor and all. It's okay, I can suffer a few third degree burns—"

"No!" you shouted, making Steve flinch at the suddenness. You cleared your throat, cheeks heating up. "Uh, I mean, yeah. I wouldn't mind missing the party. Where did you plan on going?"

Slightly surprised, a smile crept on his lips. He ran a hand across his face to hide the cheeky grin. "Wherever you want to go."

You threw him a smile, unhealthily giddy. If Clint were here to comment, he'd compare you to a happy school girl with a massive crush. "Oh. Okay."

A voice interrupted the short silence, scaring both you and Steve. You suspected the AI, Friday, had been invested in your conversation. "If I may make a suggestion, I advise you both to leave sometime in the next hour before Mr. Stark ropes you in. I'm inclined to think Mr. Stark won't be above blackmail."

"Thank you, Friday." you murmured. The AI said it's goodbye, far too amused for your liking.

Steve got up, offering his hand for you. Both of you were smiling like idiots, cheeks hurting from the too-big smiles that adorned your faces. You had a suspicion you somewhat embodied a clown. The super-solider kept his hand wrapped around yours. "Would you like to leave at this moment, or get changed?"

You shook your head, liking the warmth of his touch. "I'm good. Let's leave."

Steve Rogers was a gentleman, that was confirmed by his acts and the influence of being raised right. Despite that fact, he was a savage in the bedroom. Or half the time, out of the bedroom. You had been surprised, yet pleased, when you fell into his bed halfway through the second unofficial date. After that night, Steve finally built the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend—a term he found silly but otherwise a happy milestone.

After years of being friends, Steve was ready to begin the rest of your lives together. No one was surprised, besides you, that he had proposed three months after the first official date. Being head over heels, you excitedly agreed, only to blanch when Tony started a petition to let him plan the wedding with you. Pepper had stopped him.

No one knew what happened the night of Thor's and Tony's party. Though, Steve made a smart choice to ditch it when you both found a floor of the tower littered with blackened metals and slightly burnt walls. The team wouldn't speak of the incident, not that neither you or Steve cared. You had both been too jubilant to interrogate them.

The wedding day came. Steve had been stopped by Thor, failing to sneak into the room you were in. No matter how strong he was, Thor wouldn't allow any bad luck to happen especially after you had lied to him about naming your firstborn after him. Steve tried, and failed, to tell him you weren't going to name his son after the God of Thunder. Bucky was too busy arguing with Sam about the flower decoration to help out Thor.

Dressed in the lavender bridesmaid dress, Natasha burst into the room, a smile adorning her face. She had thanked you multiple times for not dressing her in those ugly dresses she had seen on Pinterest. "You getting cold feet yet?"

"Mine are toasty warm." you mumbled, hands trembling at the thought of declaring your love in front of a crowd. You wondered if it was too late to get ear plugs so no one would hear all the gooey, cheesy vows you would utter to Steve.

"Very convincing." Natasha teased, taking a shot of the wine laid out on the table. Placing the flute down, she eyed the door, prepared to attack Steve if he managed to get away from Thor. "Alright, what're you worried about?"

You bit your lip, messing up the fresh layer of lip gloss Pepper had put on. Glancing out the window, you saw the crowd settling down in there chairs. The anxiety built up inside you. "Um, falling down the aisle. Accidentally saying the wrong name. Messing up in my vows. Dying of embarrassment."

"You'll be great, I promise. No one's going to die. You won't trip because Tony wouldn't let you. You won't say the wrong name because Steve's is practically implanted in your brain and you'll be too busy staring into his ocean blue eyes that you won't mess up. Now, are you still worried?" she asked, laughing when you managed to trip over your wedding dress.

"If anything, Tony's going to purposely trip me." you muttered, tempted to take a swig of some liquid courage, but the fetus in you held you back. The ceremony would start soon, and being too nervous, you hadn't eaten any breakfast. It was probably a good thing considering the nausea you were feeling. Why call it morning sickness when it didn't happen in the morning?

"You're being paranoid, everything will be great." she sighed, turning to the window, staring directly at the green hybrid. The Bruce and Natasha thing was unsurprising but kind of weird, especially with the whole sex thing. You had gagged at the thought of Bruce trying to fit inside of Natasha, and stopped altogether. "I'll be right back, I gotta do something."

She left the room before you could address her, groaning when she left a tiny crack in the door. Natasha knew how much it annoyed you when people left the door open when you originally had it closed. Heaving a sigh, you went to close the door, only to be met by a small force. Steve stuck his head through opening, his worried frown turning into a dazzling grin as he spotted you.

Without a word, he took you in his arms, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a quick kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, closing the door behind him as your arms wrapped around his neck.

You pulled away, wiping the lip gloss smeared across his lips. Steve did the same, smirking at his handy work. "Hello, Mrs. Rogers. How do you feel?"

"Like I want to tangle myself around you in every way possible." you whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. Steve chuckled, his thumb drawing small circles on your back. "How about you, Husband?"

"I've been waiting for this day for a very long time. You can't imagine how jovial I am." said Steve. He gave your nose a quick peck, and you giggled. "I know it's suppose to be bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony but I couldn't bear it."

Giggling, you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his neck as you sucked softly at the sensitive skin. "Hmm, I can't wait until I'm officially yours. Do you think we have time for a quickie? It'd really help with my wedding nerves."

Steve laughed, but the sound came out a little breathless. Even with the thickness of the wedding gown, you could feel him on your hip, smirking when he shifted. "While that's a very tempting offer, both Natasha and Pepper would kill me for ripping apart this beautiful dress."

"But Steve—" your whine was cut off by Natasha pulling Steve out of your arms.

The redhead glared at him, pushing him towards the opened door. "You, out, now."

"I'll see you—" Steve began to say, only to be cut off when the door slammed in his face. Natasha turned to turn her death stare on you.

"Look at your makeup. I can't believe he snuck in here with Thor on his ass." Natasha complained, pushing you towards the vanity, quickly applying the tube of lip gloss on your lips. You blinked back the tears as she practically poke your eye with the mascara wand, trying to fix Steve's touch on your slightly smeared mascara. "You look like you're going to puke."

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. "I'm good. Where's Tony?"

"Right here." he answered, entering with a velvet box in his hand. The billionaire set it down on the vanity before eyeing your stance. "Wow, you look ..."

"Like I'm gonna throw up all over Steve's suit?" you finished, panic rising.

"I was going to say gorgeous but now that you mention it, you do look a little green." he teased, earning himself a nudge from Natasha. Tony rubbed his ribs. "If you want to ditch, I have the car running in case you want to make a quick getaway."

You rolled your eyes, wishing you hadn't let him talk you into such a big wedding. All you wished at the moment was to take Steve with you and elope. "Thanks for the offer but I'm good. Let's get this over with."

"And here I thought you weren't romantic." Tony joked, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

Natasha checked her watch, the music audible. Morgan, the flower girl was already walking down the aisle along with Pepper's nephew on her heels. The former assassin opened the door, grinning. "Wait a few seconds before you follow me."

And with that, she walked down the short hall before stepping outside, the aisle was cleared by flowers adorning the sides. Weeping willow branches hung down from the huge tree, creating an illusion of fantasy, the little arch at the end of the aisle was created of leaves and even more colorful flowers. You were surprised no one was sneezing with the amount of pollen.

You took Tony's arm, taking another deep breath. Looking at him, you swore he was a bit proud. He smiled at you. "I hope you know I take full credit for the union of your two souls."

Ignoring his mini jab, you raised an eyebrow. "And how so?"

"There was never a party." he informed, grinning cheekily. He pulled you towards the opened door, walking down the hall. "I made it all up so Rogers would get the balls to finally ask you out."

"Then what the hell happened to the tower?" you asked, confused. People were beginning to stand but your curiosity became more important than your nerves.

Tony winked. "That's for me to know, and for you to dot dot dot."

"God, you're such a nerd." you mumbled, turning your attention ahead as your feet hit the white carpet that moonlighted as the aisle. The nerves began to bubble, and you gripped his arm tighter in fear of falling face first.

The ceremony was a blur, Steve just as nervous as you had been, becoming more and more braver as he spoke his vows. By the end of it, you could barely see him through the tears brimming your eyes. If it wasn't for the waterproof makeup, you were sure you would've cried your face off.

You had just finished your vows when the priest had asked if you would gladly wed the man in front of you for the rest of forever. You whispered a soft "I do."

The priest turned to Steve, the super-soldier happy beyond belief. He asked him the previous question he had asked you. Yet, Steve, being eager, had almost cut him off near the end.

His eyes bored into yours, filled with love and warmth. "I do."

Then everything turned black.

You awoke in the Medbay, needles puncturing your arm, a tube tied to your nose. Every single inch of your skin hurt, your eyelids heavy as you opened your eyes, only to close them once again when the bright fluorescents shone. You felt someone squeeze your hand, a finger brushing along your wrist.

Turning your head, you glance at the person, finding out it was Tony. While he was relieved you were awake, something in his eyes made you believe he wished he had more time to prepare you for the worst. At the moment he uttered those words, you wished your ears had been damaged in whatever hell Hydra had dropped on your wedding.

"Steve's dead."

[nanasparadise]

“Losing my senses for you” Yan!Joseph (Part 3) x female reader

Hiya everyone! Here’s a little Yan! Joseph (Part 3) x female reader for y’all because apparently, I like to see Suzi suffer lol

Summary: You and your soulmate Joseph share a pleasant dream, as always. Though suddenly, the elderly wants to take your friendship to the next level...

TW: age gap, implied cheating, implied kidnapping, toxic relationship, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI 

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 2022

Joseph had always thought of himself as a sensible man. Sensible enough to fall in love with his current wife and have a child with her, disregarding the fact that Suzi Q wasn’t his soulmate. Why would he have denied himself love, a family? No, Joseph had been rational enough to not care about that ‘dreaming of your soulmate’ humbug. That had been the case until he’d met you.

The male would have never imagined seeing his soulmate in his dream, not after all these years being married and especially not as an elderly man. You were still so young, a blooming flower in your twenties, ready to conquer the world. How could Joseph be your soulmate? But there was no denying that the Brit was constantly dreaming of you. Nearly every morning he’d wake up, your face still lingering on his mind while his spouse slept peacefully next to him, knowing nothing about her husband’s dream invader. Sometimes, he’d even whisper your name. Joseph didn’t have the heart to tell her, after all, Suzi had been his love for most of his life. But apparently, not the one to spend the remainder of it with.

This night wasn’t an exception when it came to your nocturnal visits. This time, the two of you sat on the terrace of a café near Joseph’s flat in New York City. The crowding streets of the metropolis filled the air with a cacophony of sounds: honking taxi cars, chatting people, the occasional dog that barked loudly. Even though every tiny thing seemed to buzz with life, Joseph knew that none of this was real- all would cease to exist once he’d wake up, except for him and you. Politely, you smiled at the Brit. 

“Hello Mr. Joestar, how are you doing today?”, you greeted him, as you always did. Both of you had agreed that you wouldn’t refer to the elderly man with his first name, wanting to keep some distance between you. Just like Joseph, you had been more than surprised to notice that your soulmate wasn’t a person around your age. Though never having been openly said, you two knew you wouldn’t pursue any romantic advances towards each other. At some point, Joseph had even revealed to you that he was married and had a daughter and a grandson. But since you hadn’t found a way yet to end these dreams, you were behaving on an amicable basis. The male believed you’d probably see in him a grandfather figure. Though Joseph couldn’t tell anymore if he saw you as a granddaughter …

As per usual, the pair consisting of you chattered the whole time. You told him about your new job, how you were nervous to meet your colleagues, wondering if you’d get along well. While you were talking, you kept fiddling the napkin next to you, demonstrating your anxiety. During your countless encounters, Joseph had learnt to read your body language. Confidently, the man rested his real gloved hand on top of yours, stopping your tic. You stared into the male’s green eyes, astonishment written on your face. 

“Y/N,” Joseph said softly, “you don’t need to be nervous, dear. How could they not like such a ray of sunshine like you?” He flashed you a big grin at his final words. You averted his tender gaze. Oh, how Joseph loved this bashful expression on your face. You were so easy to tease. 

“Thank you, Mr. Joestar, though I think you’re exaggerating.” 

“Please, call me Joseph”, the elderly man blurted out. A big thumb idly drew circles on the back of your hand. He didn’t know what had driven him into saying this, into breaking the formal distance between you -  at least he didn’t know consciously. Deep inside, he was well aware that he loved you - more than just a friend, than a granddaughter, hell, even more than Suzi. In the end, you were his soulmate. Suddenly, all the previous talk about how any other kind of love paled compared to the love for your soulmate didn’t seem like humbug to Joseph anymore. No, the once reasonable man had been utterly struck by the arrow of a foolish love, a love he hadn’t experienced beforehand – not even with his wife. He had been struck by you. Your surprise only grew. 

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”, you asked hesitantly, eyeing your hand. Joseph stayed persistent though. 

“Not at all, Y/N. It’s only natural to call me by my first name after all our dates, isn’t it?”, the man winked playfully at you. He really wanted to see how far he could go with his flirtatious banter until you’d retreat. Or maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d feel the same as him, wanting more out of these encounters. Maybe… Hope blossomed in Joseph’s chest, making the elderly man feel like a lovesick teenager all over again. Only you held that much power over him. Your following words crushed that spark of hope fairly quickly though. 

“I don’t know, Mr. Joestar…,” you retorted, obviously refusing to address him as Joseph, “Don’t you think it would enable unwanted feelings between us? This is quite a hard situation anyway for us – you with your family, me with my young age – I don’t think we need to complicate things further.” At this statement, the light in Joseph’s green eyes extinguished like a flame. Of course. He might have lost his mind, but you didn’t. No, you remained rational, cool-headed. 

“Ah, I see”, Joseph simply replied, barely hiding the disappointment in his raspy voice. “This is for the best, you old fool,” the tiny voice whispered in Joseph’s head, “How could you keep up with her?” Bitter at his own thoughts, the man made a crestfallen grimace. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t intend to hurt your feelings in any way. I do enjoy the time we spend together and I appreciate you, Mr. Joestar”, you added remorsefully. The Brit’s heart warmed at your words of consideration. You cared for him, you must, he was convinced. The effects of the soulmate bond couldn’t just be ignored by you. Maybe, there was still a chance for him. Maybe…

“Y/N”, Joseph murmured your name ever so gently. Surprised by the softness of his tone, you looked up to him. He briefly wetted his lips before he proceeded talking. “I appreciate you, too. A lot, actually. Every time I’m in your company, I’m the happiest man alive. You draw me in and I can’t help myself but wanting more.” You tried to interrupt him, but Joseph quickly stopped you by raising his hand and continuing his speech. “Ah ah, honey, please let me finish. I know what you want to say: ‘But Mr. Joestar, what about your family?’ Well, they’ll understand, they have to. We’re soulmates, I can’t just ignore that. I’ll leave my wife for you, then we can start a life together. Please, my love, consider my words. After all, even without knowing it, I’ve been waiting the whole time for you.” Joseph gazed intensely in your eyes, yearning painted across his face. He patiently watched you gulp heavily and waited for your answer while he put his hand back on yours. 

“Your words are sweet and I’m grateful for your sincerity, Mr. Joestar,” you eventually sputtered, “you’re dear to me, I’d be lying if I said you weren’t, but not in the way you intend it to be. I don’t think I could ever see you in a romantic way. And even if I could, I don’t want to be a homewrecker. I know you love your family, you shouldn’t toss them away for me.” Joseph sighed deeply. He’d learnt with experience to tame his quick temper, but still, impatience flared up inside him. 

“Why can’t you give me, give us, a try? I’m aware that our initial plan was to keep some distance between us, but if we both have feelings for each other, why deny them then? You said you couldn’t see me as a lover, but I don’t believe that. Give me a chance and I’ll prove you how much I love you.” Joseph slightly squeezed your hand while spilling out his passionate words. “You said I shouldn’t toss away my family, but you want me to throw you away. How could I do that? Every morning, it’s your name that escapes my lips, your body I want to feel next to mine, your scent I want to inhale.” The man grew desperate the more he talked. “Don’t worry about our age difference, I know a way for you to grow old with me.” Joseph perceived your puzzled face from the corner of his eyes as he fixated his gaze on your hand, but kept speaking. “I can give you so much Y/N, if only you’d let me. Please, let us try it.” He finally looked up to you, fearing and yet anticipating your reaction. Yes, only you could make him this nervous… Your brows were tightly furrowed, though a hint of sympathy seeped through your kind eyes. 

“Joseph…”, you whispered softly. The Brit’s heart fluttered like a hummingbird upon hearing you finally say his first name. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to reveal this to you, but it’s only fair for me to be honest to you as well. I’ve actually met this man a while ago.”

Joseph’s jaw dropped at your confession and his eyes widened. No, this couldn’t be true. He felt as if his whole world had shattered in this moment. Cruelly, you decided to hurt him more with your words. “And to be frank, things are going well. We’ve even talked about moving in together. I think he might be the one I want to spend my life with, Joseph.” Thud. Joseph’s prosthetic hand slammed harshly on the table. Instinctively, you winced at the loud noise. 

“Why would you say that to me?!”, the man in front of you shouted, desperation coating his voice, “Why would you break my heart like that? I can’t believe it! Here I am, thinking about leaving my wife for you while you’ve been having fun with some other guy!” Joseph’s grasps painfully tightened around your hand. His handsome features had transformed into a terrifyingly furious grimace. You gasped fearfully, trying to retrieve your hand from Joseph’s hold. “Why would you bother to be with him when I’m right here? He isn’t your soulmate, I am!” Hot anger flooded the male’s body. It’s been years since he felt this kind of raw emotion again. Joseph glared at you while you still tried unsuccessfully to escape his grasp. Eventually, he let go of your hand. Hastily, you pulled it away from the table. Taking a deep breath, you spoke up. 

“I think you forget that I’m still an independent woman, Mr. Joestar.” 

“So we’re back at the surname, huh?”, the Brit thought gloomily. 

“No matter if we’re soulmates, I’ve still got my own life, as you do. Which means I can choose with whom I’m in a relationship. I hope this incident here is non-recurring and that you’ve come back to your senses the next time we’ll see each other.”

With these final words, Joseph woke abruptly up. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from his intense outbreak. While laying down on his bed, he tried to calm his agitated breaths. “I should come back to my senses, huh?,” the male muttered quietly into the room as to not wake up Suzi, “What a bold thing coming out of your mouth, since you’re the source for my irrational behaviour.” Yes, Joseph had always thought of himself as a sensible man. But times had changed. And drastic times called for drastic measures. Subconsciously, the Brit knew exactly what had to be done if he didn’t want to lose you to that pest you thought was your boyfriend. Slowly, he climbed out of his bed. Joseph glanced one more time at his spouse’s sleeping form. 

There was no turning back now.

Out of a drawer, the man grabbed a polaroid camera and called out his Stand.

[pyroclastic727]

Luz is kinda right to be oblivious

I know you all are relentlessly teasing Luz for being completely oblivious to Amity’s clear romantic advances. And while you definitely have a point, Luz isn’t entirely wrong to do this. Luz’s assumption that her and Amity are just friends is her way of protecting herself and Amity.

Let’s start by laying out the scenario from Luz’s POV. You’re a human from another realm who visits a magic realm. There you meet a bunch of amazing people, but one lettuce-headed blushy mess sticks out to you. You start doing all these favors for her, things you would only do for Eda and King in the past. She returns a few of them. Then she starts getting comfortable around you, where she feels good enough to hug you and stuff. Well, then there’s this dance, and she doesn’t ask you out, and she feels bad because she’s afraid of being rejected by the person she does want to ask out. 

Well, duh, of course Amity likes her! But Luz has quite a few things to disprove that.

First off, we’ll start with the psychology that makes this possible. (This is what happens when the analysis blog takes a psych class). There’s this thing called confirmation bias, which I’d say a good proportion of you are familiar with. For those that aren’t: if you have a preconceived opinion, you’re more likely to look for things that support that, rather than those that disprove it. Everyone uses this all the time. Usually it’s fairly harmless, but when in the wrong hands, it is a powerful tool that can be used to influence elections and such.

In Luz’s case, her confirmation bias comes from good evidence. Any wlw who has actually lived on Earth knows that it’s dangerous to assume your friend likes you. First off, there’s the selfish aspect of it (you know, the “who am I to assume that I’m cool enough for someone to have a crush on me? You can’t control those things!”). Second, there’s the fact that straight girls on Earth can be very affectionate. One of my straight friends kissed me twice until I asked her to stop because I did not want to fall for her. In Luz’s mind, Amity could easily be one of those touchy straight girls. So of course she’s looking for evidence to stockpile and convince herself that Amity doesn’t like her like that.

And there sure is a lot of evidence to stockpile.

To start with, Luz doesn’t think she knows Amity that well. I mean, the girl has been to Luz’s house twice. They haven’t had a lot of time to spend together. And even their dates have been sporadic: Luz took her top student badge so Amity watched her get dissected, Luz and Amity fought to what should have been their death, Luz almost got Amity killed at the library, Luz almost got Amity’s friends killed at the Knee, Amity almost got Luz’s friend killed, and then they danced. That’s it. As for the rest of Amity’s life...that’s largely a mystery. Luz didn’t figure out that Amity’s parents are abusive until last episode! Amity was actively avoiding her on the first day (hiding out in the halls and such), so who knows what she was doing then? And she spends a lot of time with rich kids: what if one of them was her crush? There’s a lot of Amity’s life that Luz can leave up to her imagination.

Secondly, Amity has shown Luz explicit proof of liking non-girls. Particularly, Malingale the Soothsayer. While their gender was never confirmed, Malingale seems to be male or nonbinary. With Luz, this could be some extra proof of not liking girls.

Okay, well how has she not even noticed all of Amity’s blushing? She has. But here’s the thing about white people: we blush a lot. As a blush-prone white person myself, I will blush when I’m angry, when I’m humiliated, when it’s too hot, when I exercise, when I’m uncomfortable, when I’m insecure...the list goes on. From Luz’s point of view, Amity really has permanent redness. I mean, she’ll hold her breath when she’s angry and her face will go red. She could be always angry to be around Luz. And especially in the past two episodes, whenever she so much as looks at Luz, she blushes. With how red her face is, Luz could even think it’s how her face always is. Or, that it’s a skin condition she got recently. Yeah, a lot of that evidence is grasping for straws, but remember that Luz has confirmation bias working against her.

How about all those times that Amity did heroic things? Luz’s love language is literally acts of service, and Amity has done those several times. Like when she caged Luz because “you’ll only get hurt.” Or when she burst from the trees as the leaves formed a heart around her and T-posed in front of Luz. The truth behind that is that Amity is starting to pick up on how Luz shows affection and is reciprocating it in her attempts to be the type of person Luz can love. But there’s another interpretation, which Luz could easily be using. 

Luz was the one who started the acts of service. She was the one who decided to befriend the Amity, to burst in as Luzura and save her, to say she’s not actually a witch, to save her siblings, to learn an extra spell and be in Amity’s class, to go fix Willow’s memories...the list goes on. So for Amity to reciprocate that? Maybe she’s just making it up to Luz. Amity probably feels bad about all the times she has let Luz be the hero, and wants to make her feel better about it.

Amity has also shown Luz proof of liking another girl. Right before Grom was Understanding Willow, which was an episode about Amity reminiscing over her childhood crush and fixing the damage between them. Sounds like friends to enemies to lovers, the trope that She Ra showed us to be an emotional and rewarding trope. Since Luz is a fanfic type, she could totally be looking for that trope.

And besides, you saw Luz in Willow’s mind. She literally watched Amity and Willow hold hands, gaze into each other’s eyes, apologize, make up, and look like they were going to get married. Sure, Luz wanted to go in there and claim Amity, which is part of why she put her hand on Amity’s shoulder there. But she is big enough to know that when her crush likes someone else, she should back off and support it. She would rather see Amity happy than see Amity with her, if those happen to be mutually exclusive. Which she thinks they are.

Going off that, Amity’s last words before her fear was revealed were a bit suspicious. She said “I’m sorry.” Who the hell would apologize as she was saving her friend?

As audience members, Amity’s reasoning for this is clear to us. She did this because she thought Grom was going to out her in front of everyone. She thought Luz would see her crush and hate her for it. Which makes sense if you assume the point of view of Amity’s repressed self, where her only crush was literally removed by her parents, and proceeded to hate her for years afterwards. If Luz knew that a monster like Amity liked her, she would remember what happened to Willow and cut Amity off like she was a long hairstyle.

From Luz’s point of view, it’s much worse. Deep down, Luz knows that she likes Amity and wants Amity to like her back (although she might not have the words for it). And think about it: if Amity’s fear is romance-related and she’s apologizing to Luz for something, wouldn’t it be for not liking her? From Luz’s point of view, she has been pretty obvious about her crush. She literally risked her life countless times for her. She even faced her worst fear for Amity, even though Eda strongly cautioned her against it. And besides, it wouldn’t even occur to Luz to hate Amity for liking her. So Luz thinks Amity is apologizing because Amity knows that Luz likes her, and she knows that her crush will hurt Luz. That also explains why Luz didn’t recognize her own mudsona: she was looking for someone else’s face to be reflected in it, so she could maybe help Amity by being her wingman.

Also, Luz can’t even stay in the Boiling Isles. Let’s say that everything goes perfectly. Luz falls for Amity, Amity falls for Luz, they date, they kiss, they face the Emperor’s Coven together, they face whoever’s writing notes to Luz’s mom together, they call each other girlfriends...all that won’t last, because Luz has to go home. 

Luz knows this. She already knows that making attachments is bad. That’s why her mom is her worst fear: it means she loses her real mother figure Eda, her best friend King, her love interest Amity, and her friends Willow and Gus. So of course she wouldn’t want to fall in love! She’ll only end up breaking Amity’s heart, and breaking her own. She saw how Amity reacted to having to leave Willow. Do you really think she would do that to Amity?

So can you blame her for the pain in her voice when she said “that’s what friends do?” She knows that’s not what friends do. But she has to put up that wall or risk hurting everyone.