#second picture doesn’t belong to me

[takieorie]

Strange how we’ll never see this happy side Orion Pax and D 16 again 😔

(Someone take my phone away)

[obsessedwithceleste]

Mother Brother Knows Best

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this request 🫶🏽

Summary: In which Theodore is no match for the sheer determination of a twelve year old fueled by sugar, pumpkin juice, and spite.

word count: 4.1k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

“Take a picture mate, it’ll last longer,” Mattheo says, collapsing onto the sofa next to his brooding friend.

Theo looks at the boy next to him in annoyance. Mattheo had been meant to meet him in the library thirty minutes ago, and while he was waiting on his habitually late friend, he’d been forced to watch the love of his life practically sit on bloody Cormac McLaggen’s lap. What you saw in that boy, Theo had no idea.

Theo had fancied you for what felt like forever to him at that point, and it’s not like he was exactly subtle about it. At least he didn’t think he was being subtle, but ask any of his friends and they’d say that holding eye contact from across the room for over 3 seconds did not count as a declaration of love. But what did they know. Not that it mattered anyway because somehow, he’d managed to lose you to the toadstool that the Gryffindor house claimed to be a fully functioning wizard.

“I wasn’t staring,” he mutters defensively, breaking his steady glare away unconvincingly.

“Sure you weren’t. How is little y/n anyway? Haven’t seen much of her since she and ole McLaggen started snogging and such,” Mattheo responds easily, an amused grin spreading across his face as he watched his friend tense.

“Fuck off. Don’t remind me.”

With a silent snicker, Mattheo leaned back in his chair. Ever since you had started going out with Cormac, it had been increasingly easy for Mattheo to ruffle Theo’s feathers. The boy really had been taken with you for months now, and Mattheo simply saw this as payback for all the hours he’d been forced to listen to Theo’s rather pathetic pining. She doesn’t even know I exist this, and we made eye contact for a whole 7 seconds that. You’d managed to bring the ever stoic Theodore Nott to his bloody knees, and you didn’t even know it.

“So, about that charms homework…” Mattheo says eventually, breaking Theo’s blazing gaze away from you and Cormac once more.

“No time. Carter should be here any minute since you, are thirty minutes late.”

Mattheo raises an eyebrow.

“You’re still gonna tutor that little gremlin? Thought you were just trying to get on y/n’s good side. No point now eh?”

For the past few month or so, Theo had been tutoring your younger brother in charms and transfiguration and, while Mattheo was right about his initial intentions, the little bugger had slowly grown on him. Like a fungus.

Theo shrugs noncommittally as he spots the young Slytherin from across the library.

“Not just gonna let Carter fail. He’s a good kid.” He mumbles.

“Aw Teddy, you’ve gone soft,” Mattheo teases as his eyes follow the young boy making his way excitedly towards them.

Making a face at his friend, Theo tosses a scroll of parchment across the table and Mattheo reaches out to snatch it.

“Get outta here ya tosser.”

With one last smirk, Mattheo rises lazily from their place on the sofas, nodding once at Carter who sidles up to him before making his escape, a completed charms essay successfully secured.

“Hi Theodore!” Carter greets, swinging his bag onto the sofa next to Theo before climbing up himself.

“Hey buddy, what’re we working on today?” Theo asks, a fond smile growing on his face as the young boy makes himself comfortable.

Usually Theo wasn’t one for children of any sort. He found them to be, sticky. But Carter almost reminded him of a younger version of himself. Feisty and energetic with a sharp tongue. The pair honestly got on like a house on fire and Theo actually looked forward to their tutoring sessions.

“Levitating charms,” Carter replies with a look of disgust. “Ew. Is that Cormac and y/n?” He asks, spotting his sister across the library.

Matching Carter’s face of disgust, Theo nods his head in confirmation, pulling out his own charms book.

“He’s the bloody worst. I wish y/n would date someone cool for once. She has a talent for always picking the worst ones. I heard Cormac say he wants to see what’s under y/n’s skirt once, so I told him that the only way he was going to get laid was by crawling up a chicken’s arse and waiting. He didn’t like that. But his friends all thought it was funny. But then he locked me in a broom closet. But it was fine cause Enzo found me a few minutes later and beat Cormac’s arse for me,” Carter rambles, flipping through the pages of his textbook.

Salazar, for a second year, this kid was certainly mouthy, Theo thought.

“Think Enzo mentioned that to me actually.” He replies off-handedly.

“Yeah. He’s so cool. I think y/n used to have a crush on him a few years ago. Don’t tell her I said anything though. You’re cool too.” Carter says, looking down at his book. “Hey! Why don’t you date y/n? Then I could see you during holiday! Hopefully Cormac doesn’t stick long enough to make it to Christmas. I don’t want him to stink up the house.”

Theo feels his cheeks begin to redden at the boy’s statement and he begins to stutter. Damn he hoped his filter wasn’t this bad when he was twelve.

“Let’s just get back to the lesson,” he mumbles, hoping to redirect the young boy.

Lucky for him, Carter obliges, allowing the older boy to guide him through the precise wand movements essential to the spell in question.

“Windgardimum leviosum”

“Wingardinum liviosa”

“Windgarnium leviosauarasurausrus.”

“Now you’re just making words up,” Theo laughs as the boy fails to pronounce the spell correctly for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Because I am!” The boy says with frustration.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s fine okay. Ready? Win.”

“Win”

“Gaurd”

“Gaurd.”

“E-um”

“E-um”

“Wingardium”

“Wingardium”

“Nice! Now the second part. Lev.”

“Lev”

“E-o-sa”

“E-o-sa”

“Leviosa”

“Leviosa.”

“Great. Now put it together.”

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Perfect, now add the wand movements,” Theo instructs.

Moments later, Carter has a textbook floating through the air with ease.

“So will you date my sister?” Carter asks as he slides his books back into his bag.

Theo chokes on air. It had been a bit over an hour and the two had perfected the boy’s levitating charms and worked on turning a flower into a teacup, so Theo had assumed that their previous conversation was all but forgotten to the younger boy. Apparently not.

“Sorry?” He splutters, looking over at his companion.

“My sister. Will you date her? I saw you get all red earlier so you must like her, at least a little,” the boy says nonchalantly as if pointing out the most obvious thing in the world.

Theo feels the heat rushing to his cheeks once more.

“Look little man, I appreciate the support, but it’s not really entirely up to me to decide. Your sister is taken,” Theo tries to reason.

The boy just shrugs.

“We’ll just have to break em up then. Cormac is dumb as rocks, so it’s not like it’ll be hard,” he replies.

Theo can barely hold in his laughter. Salazar this kid was great.

“You know what Carter, if you can break those two up, yeah, I’ll ask out y/n,” he says, patting the young boy on the back.

“Deal.” Carter says, sticking out his hand. “But don’t think I don’t know that I’m doing you a favor too. I’ve seen you stare at my sister. Oh. And if I need help plotting, you have to help me too.”

Damn this kid was good. A right and proper Slytherin.

“Deal.” Theo replies, shaking the boys hand.

As he’s leaving the library, he hears Carter’s voice ring out.

“Hey Cormac! The village called and said they want their idiot back, so you better get going!”

Salazar he’d really found himself the perfect ally he thought gleefully. With a final snicker, Theo pushed open the library doors and headed back down to the dungeons.

You watch with silent amusement from the entrance of the Great Hall as your younger brother once again made Cormac’s life a living disaster, sending pumpkin juice flying all over the older boy’s robes. For the past week or so, you’d noticed your brother sabotaging your boyfriend’s every move with varying levels of discretion; from tripping him in the halls, causing him to trip into you, to sticking him to his chair in the library during a study date.

At first you’d found it annoying as you’d known your brother didn’t like your boyfriend, but thought he didn’t have to make the boy miserable. But then, as you were passing by what you thought was an empty classroom, you’d heard your brother’s voice whispering to one Theodore Nott.

“Do you think it would be too far to just get him expelled? If I have to see him snog my sister one more time, I’ll release one of Hagrid’s beasts on him myself!” You’d heard Carter exclaim, followed by Theo’s low chuckle.

“Easy there little basilisk. Let’s not get the guy expelled, as aggravating as he might be.”

You’d never really spoken to Theo much in the past, and aside from brief eye contact from across the classroom, you really couldn’t remember interacting with the boy at all. But he’d begun tutoring your brother a few months ago, and Carter would not stop going on about the boy. You knew your brother was quite picky with his friends, and very difficult to impress, so to be so taken with the bloke. You knew Theodore had to be something special. You’d started noticing him more after that, dark and broody, but also sharp witted and fiercely loyal to his group of Slytherins. Not to mention ridiculously handsome.

You subconsciously take a step closer, listening to the two boys.

“I don’t understand why she likes him. He’s so dumb. And mean. He’s always picking on me and my friends when y/n isn’t around. And he thinks he’s so cool because he’s a bloody Gryffindor. I don’t know why she wouldn’t just date you in the first place. You’re the best,” you hear Carter grumble as you feel yourself blush.

You hear Theo laugh again. “Let’s finish this chapter and then you can continue plotting Cormac’s demise okay?” You hear him say.

“Fine. Do you think y/n will break up with him if he smells? I wanna hide a dung beetle in his robes.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea. Now- quill pen into a telescope, let’s go.” Theo says with a snort.

After that, you’d begun to take your brother’s words to heart, noticing Cormac’s rash reactions towards the younger students, and loud outbursts whenever something didn’t go his way. You’d always assumed Carter was just goading at your boyfriend, but maybe he had a point.

Breaking away from your usual group of friends, you divert your attention to your younger brother who was now sitting alone at the long green and silver table on the other side of the hall.

“Morning Carter,” you greet, sitting down next to him at Slytherin table, quiet chatter filling the Great Hall.

“Didn’t want to sit next to your boyfriend covered in pumpkin juice?” Your brother asks innocently, taking a sip from his own pumpkin juice filled glass.

“Mm. I saw.” You respond dryly, side eyeing your brother as you filled your plate.

“It was an accident.”

“I’m sure. So, how are your tutoring sessions going? Mum and dad gonna be on you next holiday?” You ask.

“No way. Theo has me getting top marks on all my assignments. He’s the best,” Carter brags.

“Yeah? You seem to like him. A lot more than Cormac that’s for sure.” You comment.

“Well duh. Theo’s like, one of the coolest blokes in Slytherin, and Cormac is one of the biggest tossers in the whole school. Bit of an insult to even compare Theo to that wank-cloth to be honest.”

You struggle to maintain your composure, holding in your laughter, and before you’re able to probe your brother any further, a plate is plonked down across the table.

“Carter! My favorite little second year!” Enzo says brightly, taking his seat.

“Enzo it’s too early for you to be this cheery. No one is that cheery at 7:30 am let’s reel it in,” Mattheo groans, sitting down on Carter’s other side.

“Theo!” Carter exclaims as the brown haired boy takes his spot across from you.

“What’s up little man, how’d that charms exam go?”

“I got the top score in my class,” your brother responds proudly as you gaze across the table at his tutor.

Theo really was handsome.

Quickly shaking the thoughts from your head, you force yourself to zone back into the conversation.

“I remember being in second year charms,” Mattheo was saying.

“No you don’t, you never showed up,” Enzo snorts.

“Shut up pretty boy.”

“Speaking of second year. Where are your friends in second year?” You interrupt, suddenly realizing that your brother was in fact surrounded by a whole gang of sixth years.

“They’re all scared of them,” Carter shrugs nonchalantly, gesturing towards the boys around you.

Mattheo’s jaw drops open in mock offense.

“I can assure you y/n, we are prime role models for young Slytherins.” He says.

“Didn’t you and Draco just get a detention for sending a hoard of rabid pygmie puffs after a group of firsties?” Carter asks, taking a large bite of his eggs.

“Minor details.”

“Right. Note to self, Theodore is the only one of you to be left alone with Carter. Got it.” You joke, almost missing the tinge of red in Theo’s cheeks as he ducks his head, suddenly very interested in his breakfast.

“That’s fine with me. Theo skips class all the time too, so I won’t be missing much,” Carter says matter of factly as he proceeds to drown his pancakes and eggs in syrup.

Now it’s Theo’s turn to drop his jaw at the young boy.

“Little snitch, you said you wouldn’t bring that up,” he says, throwing a bit of his toast at your younger brother.

Carter just laughs, tossing sticky egg right back.

“That’s on you for trusting a twelve year old, I can’t be held responsible for my actions, I’m just a kid,” he replies, sticking his tongue out at his tutor.

You watch the scene before you play out, a smile growing on your face.

“Oh he’s going to make Slytherin house proud,” Mattheo says with a grin as Theo proceeds to throw a bit of muffin back your brother’s way.

“Woah woah woah there Theodore, leave y/n’s brother alone,” a voice says from behind you.

You turn to see Cormac approaching the table, dried pumpkin juice still staining the front of his shirt.

“Piss off Cormac,” Mattheo tells him, a scowl quickly taking over his face.

“Don’t think I will. Can’t stand by and watch my girlfriend’s brother get bullied,” he says, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. His gesture might’ve been nice a week ago, but at the moment you wanted to hurl.

“Right. Like you weren’t the one who locked Carter in a broom closet the other day you bloody bastard. How’d you like a replay of our little encounter?” Enzo sneers, going to rise from his seat only to be sat back down by Theo.

“I’m sorry, you did what?” You ask, fury rising in you as you whip around to face your boyfriend-for-not-much-longer.

“Relax, it was just some man to man bonding,” Cormac says, giving Carter a pat on the head. Carter smacks his hand away.

“Salazar Cormac, are you always this stupid, or do you just show off when we’re around? Get lost,” Theo says, the annoyance clear in his voice.

“Yeah! If I wanted to hear from an asshole, I’d just fart!” Carter adds, glaring up at the boy with crossed arms.

With a scowl, Cormac sneers at the group of Slytherin boys glaring right back at him before giving your shoulder a tug.

“C’mon then y/n. You shouldn’t be hanging out with this filth anyway,” he practically growls.

You frown at the Gryffindor. What on Earth had made you like this boy? The mix of sheer embarrassment, disgust, and rage sends a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck of Cormac. We are so, so done. And my brother isn’t filth.” You snap, abruptly turning your back on him.

You’re met with a satisfied smirk on Theo’s face as the other boys jeer at Cormac as he stomps away.

“Bloody hell, who let me stay with that tosser for so long?” You mutter, stabbing at one of your sausages.

“Not to say I told you so, but I totally told you so,” Carter says through a mouthful of egg.

“Point very well taken.”

The five of you eat in silence for a moment, but when you look up, you see Carter mouthing something furiously at Theo who looks mortified.

“What’re you two on about?” You ask, breaking the silence as you glance back and forth between the two boys.

“Yeah Theo, what are we on about?” Carter says pointedly at the older boy.

Mattheo and Enzo, now also fully invested, look between Carter and Theodore as well, a sinister grin spreading across Mattheo’s face as realization grows.

“Oh I think I have a good idea of what they’re on about,” he says, taking on a playful tone.

“Don’t you start.” Theo grumbles.

You look blankly between the boys as they seem to be having a silent conversation amongst themselves.

“Well this has been lovely really. So glad you all got a front row seat to the drama that is my life, but I think it’s time I head out,” you say finally when none of the boys speak up.

As if coming to a stalemate, four heads turn to you, and you leave to a chorus of “Bye, y/n’s and see you laters.”

You found yourself once again seated in the library, scribbling away on your DADA assignment. It had been a bit over a week since you’d dropped Cormac and you’d forgotten how bloody nice it was to not be constantly dragged down by him when studying. As you continue to scratch away at your parchment, a loud thud shakes you out of your focus.

“What’s up sissy?” Carter says, his bag joining his large stack of books on the table as he makes himself comfortable in the chair next to you. “Matt over here!” He whisper tells, gesturing frantically to the curly haired boy who was quickly making his way over to you.

“Ah y/n! Perfect timing! Been such a pleasure chatting with you for the last several hours eh?” He says, sliding into the seat across from you.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Huh?”

Just then, a miffed looking Theo bursts through the library door, eyes quickly zoning in on Mattheo and your brother.

“What did you two do?” You hiss as the boy begins stalking over.

“Nothing!” Carter says quickly.

You glare at the two boys.

“We might have allegedly started a small fire in the dorms,” Mattheo grumbles, trying to look invested in one of the random textbooks that had been strewn across the table.

“You did what?” You whisper yell across the table.

“Allegedly!” He emphasizes, still not looking up.

“I know it was you two. And also probably Enzo.” Theo states unamusedly, walking up to the table, arms crossed.

“Us? We would never! We’ve been here studying with y/n this whole time!” Mattheo says, looking very offended for someone who was in fact guilty of what Theo was accusing.

“Yeah?” Theo asks. “You’ve been here reading Advanced Love Spells in the third edition?” Theo says, raising an eyebrow as he gestures to the book Mattheo was holding.

“Uh, yeah,” Mattheo responds.

“Really? Because it’s upside down,” Theo replies, snatching the book and turning it right side up before giving it back to Mattheo.

“I enjoy a challenge.” Mattheo retorts, doubling down as he snaps the volume shut.

Theo just dead stares his friend for a moment before sighing and slumping into the last remaining seat.

“I’m not covering for you if Snape asks me who did it.” He says eventually.

“But you won’t snitch?”

Theo glares at his friend.

“Don’t insult me.” He grumbles. Then turning towards Carter. “I’m advising to Snape that I begin tutoring you in potions too before you burn the entire castle down,” he tells him.

Carter just grins bashfully.

“Great! Now that that’s all settled, I’ll be off. Y/n, pleasure as always. Boys.” And with one last nod, and a sarcastic salute, Mattheo is off.

“One day, I’m going to murder him, and drop his body in the Black Lake,” Theo says under his breath.

“Alright. Which one of you is going to explain?” You ask, looking sternly between the two boys you were left with.

Before Theo has the chance to get a word in, Carter shoots up.

“I just remembered that I need to get a book for our tutoring session tonight! Be right back!” He exclaims, running off.

“Well I suppose that answers that,” Theo mutters.

“Are my parents going to get an owl? And if so, how bad will the howler be on a scale of 1-10?”

“I don’t think they’ll be owled. If anything, Matt will take the fall for the three of them,” Theo assures you.

“So what exactly happened?”

“Not entirely sure, but from what I gathered, Matt and Enzo decided that they would be able to help your brother with his potions homework, proceeded to forget about the cauldron sitting on an open flame, and then had the audacity to be surprised when a stack of parchment caught fire because Matt’s side of the dorm is a mess.”

You purse your lips.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. I’m so sorry. You share a room with them don’t you?”

Theo nods his head.

“How’d you know that?”

“Carter hasn’t shut up about you since you started tutoring him.” You reply with an awkward laugh. “Thanks for doing it by the way. And for letting him hang around you lot. He seems so much happier lately.”

A small smile appears on Theo’s face.

“We like having him around. Kid’s a spitfire. And an excellent alibi. Not that we’d ever get him into trouble,” he says quickly.

You let out a light laugh.

“I’m very sure that Carter would find trouble with or without you lot. He tends to go looking for it.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you wait for Carter to return, and you try to turn your focus back to your assignment. It’s significantly harder to concentrate you find however, with the handsome Slytherin sitting across from you fingering idly through one of the textbooks he’d picked up.

“Someone’s deep in thought.”

Theo’s voice jolts you into the present, and you blush knowing he’d definitely caught you staring.

“Just annoyed with this bloody DADA assignment,” you mumble, hoping he hadn’t realized just how long you’d been staring.

“Did it earlier. It’s a bit of a snooze.”

You nod your head in agreement.

“Would you want to work on it together sometime?” He asks suddenly, words practically tumbling from his mouth.

You look up at the boy in surprise.

“Um, I’m not sure a really need a tutor…” you say trailing off.

Theo gives you a lopsided grin, shaking his head a bit.

“I meant as a study date.”

You feel yourself blush for what feels like the thousandth time.

“Oh. Then yes. I’d like that.” You say, holding back the huge grin that was threatening to take over your face.

“I’m back!” Carter sings, skipping his way back to the table and effectively ending the moment. “Was that enough time for you to ask her out? I can only stare at those dusty shelves for so long before I start going crazy.”

Your jaw drops as you turn to your brother.

“Did you really just set me up?”

“Duh. Christmas is only a few weeks away, and you clearly don’t have good judgment. I can’t risk having to see some stinky loser over break! And Mattheo said Theo’s had a crush on you since forever, so it was really a win for everybody.”

Now it was Theo’s turn to look embarrassed and offended.

“You didn’t need to tell her the last bit,” he hissed at your brother.

Carter just shrugs in response.

“This is what you two get for putting a twelve year old in charge of your love lives.”

“Carter, I don’t think either of us put you in charge of our love life,” you tell your all too satisfied younger brother.

“Well you should’ve. I got better results in a couple weeks than you two did in sixteen years.”

And that’s a wrap! I know I strayed from the rec a tad bit, but hopefully I did your request justice🫶🏽 Anyway, live laugh love Carter🙌🏽

[regressionschool]

circle

Lilly stood in front of her mirror, twisting her hips slightly as she admired the soft pastel design of her pull-up in the reflection. She grinned, her short, ruffled t-shirt barely brushing the waistband, leaving the pull-up fully visible. “Six whole days dry!” she thought proudly, snapping a photo with her phone.

She glanced over her shoulder at the background in the photo—the neatly stacked rows of diapers on the shelves behind her caught her eye. A pout briefly flickered on her lips. "Not for long," she whispered determinedly before sending the photo to Mommy with the caption: Look! Still dry, Mommy! Six days in a row! Can we get rid of the diapers now?

It didn’t take long for Mommy to reply. Lilly’s phone buzzed with a picture of Mommy’s amused smile and a message: Good job, sweetheart! But let’s not be too hasty. Those diapers might still come in handy! You’re not in that big of a rush to grow up, are you? 😉

Lilly puffed out her cheeks as she read the reply, her face flushing pink. She quickly typed back, Mooommy, I don’t need them anymore! I’m a big girl now!

Her phone buzzed again. Big girls don’t pout, Lilly-bug. Why don’t we wait a few more days, just to be safe? I’m so proud of you, though!

Lilly let out a huff but couldn’t help the small smile creeping across her lips. Mommy’s teasing didn’t erase her pride. She posed in front of the mirror again, this time sticking her tongue out playfully. “A few more days,” she muttered to herself. “But then they’re gone for good!”

She snapped another photo—this time with her tongue out—and sent it to Mommy. Mommy's reply made her giggle: Big girls are so silly!

Lilly sat on the soft nursery rug, her legs splayed out in front of her as she banged two colorful blocks together. She was entirely absorbed in the clatter they made, her cheeks glowing pink from exertion, a faint pout on her lips as she concentrated. She barely noticed the slight crinkle and sag of her diaper beneath her onesie, though the growing warmth spreading through it was impossible to ignore. Her brow furrowed briefly as her body took over, the back of her diaper expanding as she unconsciously filled it without a second thought.

From the rocking chair nearby, Mommy watched with a knowing smile, resting her chin in her hand. “Well, well,” she teased, her tone light but dripping with amusement. “What’s this, baby girl? Did someone just make a big mess in her diapee?”

Lilly looked up at her mommy, wide-eyed and confused, the blocks slipping from her hands. She gurgled softly, as though trying to respond, but her thumb quickly found its way into her mouth instead. Her lips moved around it as she babbled something incoherent, completely unfazed by the state of her now sagging diaper.

Mommy chuckled, shaking her head. “Just five days ago, you were my proud, big girl. You sent me pictures of your dry pull-ups, remember?” She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with playful teasing. “You even said you didn’t need those diapers anymore. But look at you now.” Lilly only blinked at her, tilting her head slightly. The words seemed to wash over her without meaning, her little mind too fuzzy to grasp the irony. Her attention quickly shifted back to the colorful blocks at her feet, a giggle bubbling up as she clumsily grabbed one.

Mommy smirked, her tone softening as she cooed, “This happens every time, doesn’t it, sweet pea? You grow up so fast, get so close to being a big girl… and then, poof! Back to square one. My silly, unpotty-trained baby girl, just where you belong.”

Lilly gave a delighted squeal, her legs kicking out in excitement at the sound of Mommy’s voice, blissfully unaware of the teasing as Mommy stood to gather changing supplies. Mommy gently patted her diapered bottom, shaking her head with a warm smile. “Don’t you worry, baby. Mommy knows you’ll try again someday… but for now, let’s get that stinky bum cleaned up.”

[moonreader1010]

Your first kiss with your lover 💋

-by Valerie 🍓

Pick one of the following piles angel,

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3 ^

Note:- -choose the pile that you intuitively feel connected to

-the pictures don't belong to me. All rights go to the original owners

-a really special friend inspired me to do this reading :)

-can you tell that I love the moon and the word 'lover'

Pile 1).

A Spark of Destiny

Your first kiss with your lover feels like an awakening, a moment where everything in the universe aligns to bring you together. It's not just a kiss—it's a culmination of energies, as if every step you've both taken in life has led to this exact moment. Picture it: you're in a quiet garden, perhaps near a sparkling lake as the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over everything. There's a soft breeze in the air, carrying the scent of blooming flowers, and the sound of nature humming in the background, as though the world is gently pausing to witness the magic unfolding. You find yourselves standing close, eyes locked, a warm, comfortable silence between you. The connection between you is electric—there's no need for words; the moment says everything.

When your lips finally meet, it’s gentle at first, almost reverent, as if you both sense the depth of the connection you're sharing. Time seems to slow down, and for a few seconds, you’re both lost in the sensation of each other. The kiss deepens gradually, tender yet full of undeniable passion, as if this was the only thing that could have ever happened in that moment. There’s a sense of tranquility, like you've finally found the person who complements you in every way. It’s a moment of peace and joy, knowing that this connection is not just a fleeting encounter, but something that was always meant to happen. You pull away slowly, eyes meeting with an unspoken understanding that this kiss is just the beginning of something much more profound. The world feels brighter, as though everything is now aligned perfectly. There's a sense of calm and fulfillment, knowing you’re exactly where you need to be.

Pile 2).

An Unexpected Connection

Your first kiss with your lover is raw, spontaneous, and filled with a surprising depth of emotion. It’s the kind of kiss that sneaks up on you—no plans, no expectations, just the two of you caught in the pull of a shared connection. Imagine this: you're both walking down a quiet street late in the evening, the fading light casting soft shadows on the pavement. Maybe you’ve just finished a fun, easy-going conversation, laughing about something that only the two of you find hilarious, when suddenly, there’s a shift in the air. Without thinking, you both lean in—there’s a subtle tension that builds between you, not uncomfortable, but something that both of you are finally ready to confront.

The kiss comes unexpectedly, almost out of instinct. At first, it’s a soft brush of lips, tentative, unsure—almost as if neither of you is certain what to do with this newfound closeness. But as the seconds stretch on, something clicks, and the kiss becomes more confident, more passionate. The uncertainty fades, and you both find yourselves completely immersed in the feeling of each other. It’s not the kind of kiss you’d plan for a perfect moment, but it’s real, and it’s full of raw emotion. In that moment, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity. All the words you hadn’t been able to say before suddenly rush to the surface, but this kiss speaks louder than any confession ever could. You feel connected in a way that doesn’t need perfection or timing—just pure emotion, raw and unfiltered.

Pile 3).

A Rush of Passion

Your first kiss with your lover is nothing short of explosive. There’s an undeniable chemistry between you that ignites the moment your eyes meet. It’s not a soft, romantic kiss filled with tenderness—it’s fiery, driven by a burning desire to close the space between you. Picture this: you're both at a vibrant party, the room filled with the rhythm of upbeat music, people laughing, and the energy in the air crackling. The atmosphere is alive, buzzing with excitement, and neither of you can deny the magnetic pull that’s drawing you closer with every passing moment. There’s no time for hesitation—this is a moment of pure impulse, an unspoken understanding that neither of you wants to wait any longer.

When your lips finally meet, it’s fast and full of passion. There's no soft build-up, no waiting—it’s an explosion of energy, a collision of bodies and emotions. Your hands are on each other almost immediately, pulling one another closer, as if you can’t get enough of the contact. The kiss is messy, intense, filled with a hunger that feels almost insatiable. It’s the kind of kiss that makes your heart race and leaves you breathless, as though the world has suddenly narrowed to just the two of you. You both pull back for a moment, your breath mingling in the space between you, but the chemistry is undeniable—this isn’t just a kiss, it’s the ignition of something wild and thrilling. The night feels like it’s just beginning, and with every second, the connection grows stronger, more intense. It’s a moment that leaves you both breathless, but also craving more, knowing that this is just the beginning of something unforgettable.

[pastryfication]

Can you pls do an Oscar x driver reader fic where the reader is Landos sister and she has a pretty bad crash at a track and it’s Oscar and Landos reaction to her crash 🩷

this is more than anything i’ve felt before

pairings: oscar piastri x f2 driver!reader, lando norris x sister!reader content warnings: mentions of a crash and ambulance. note: i have such a hard time writing driver reader idk why but i hope you like this!! might be the only driver reader i’ll finish sorry to everyone else who’ve requested it it’s just so difficult for me to get it right.

the day it happens is one of those days where everything feels right—your lines are sharp, your pace is blistering, and every turn brings you closer to victory. you’re in control. you can feel the car, every bump, every shift, every breath you take inside that helmet.

you know lando and oscar are watching from the mclaren garage, their eyes glued to the screens. lando, your older brother, forever protective even when he tries not to be, always torn between pride and worry whenever you race. oscar, your boyfriend, the reigning king of calm on the track but never quite able to mask his nerves when it comes to you.

they’re your constants. you can almost picture lando’s anxious frown and oscar’s quiet focus, hands clasped together as he watches you drive. the media loves to joke about you being the apple of mclaren’s eye, caught between the team’s two golden boys. but those headlines don’t bother you. for you, this is where you belong.

as you approach the next corner, the race intensifies. there’s another driver fighting you for position, pushing you to the edge. you hold your line, confident and unafraid. but in an instant, it all goes wrong. the car beside you swerves just a touch too far, clipping your rear wheel.

everything spins out of control.

the car whips violently, tires screeching as you slam into the barriers. you feel the impact reverberate through your body, the jarring shock of metal against metal. the world around you blurs as the car crumples, and for a moment, everything fades.

———

oscar watches, heart pounding in his chest, as your car smashes into the barriers. the noise of the crash echoes in his ears, drowning out everything else. he doesn’t even hear the commentary, the frantic radio calls, or lando’s shout of your name beside him. all he can see is you, trapped in that twisted wreck, and you’re not moving.

oscar has seen crashes before—hell, he’s been in more than a few—but this is different. this isn’t just another driver, another car. it’s you. the girl who turns his world upside down, the one who’s always been his calm amid the chaos. and now you’re motionless, surrounded by smoke and broken carbon, and he’s never felt so terrified in his life.

beside him, lando’s pushing through the crowd, his face ashen, eyes wide with panic. “we have to get to her,” lando says, but his voice is shaking, the fear cracking through his usually steady tone.

oscar doesn’t move. he’s rooted to the spot, watching the screen like it’s his lifeline, praying for any sign that you’re okay. he feels sick, his stomach churning, every second that you’re not moving like a knife to his chest.

“she’ll be fine,” oscar whispers, more to himself than to lando. but the words sound hollow, and his voice wavers. because he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt, if you’re—

“i should’ve been there,” lando mutters, his voice thick with guilt. “i should’ve been able to protect her.”

oscar shakes his head, trying to keep himself together even though he feels like he’s breaking apart. he’s used to being the calm one, the steady presence on and off the track, but now he’s unraveling. it’s not just the crash—it’s the terrifying realization of how deeply you’ve entwined yourself into his heart, how much of his world revolves around you.

he thought he knew what it was to love you, but this feeling—this bone-deep fear, this raw, overwhelming need for you to be okay—is something else entirely. all he can think about is you—the way you laugh when you beat him in a stupid game, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re deep in thought, the way you find his hand after every race, holding on like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

he’s always known he loves you. but this? this is more than love. it’s a kind of need that’s woven into his very being, and it’s terrifying, how much losing you even for a moment rips through him, leaving him hollow.

when the medics reach you, they work fast, extracting you from the mangled car with careful precision. oscar’s eyes are fixed on you, his chest tightening with every second that you’re unresponsive. the ambulance arrives, and they load you onto a stretcher, still no movement, no sign of you waking up.

“please, please, please,” oscar whispers, his voice cracking. he doesn’t care about the cameras capturing every moment of his raw fear. all he cares about is you, and he’s never felt more powerless.

lando’s shoulders slump, his hands shaking as he stares at the ground. he looks at oscar, and for once, they’re not just teammates or rivals—they’re two people who love you, and right now, that’s all that matters.

minutes feel like hours. oscar’s world narrows down to the screen, to the updates that aren’t coming fast enough, to the endless questions that nobody seems to have answers for. finally, lando’s phone buzzes. oscar watches as lando answers, the tension etched into every line of his face.

“she’s awake,” lando says, his voice thick with relief, tears shining in his eyes. “she’s bruised up, but she’s awake. they’re taking her for checks, but she’s okay.”

oscar lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and without thinking, he pulls lando into a hug. they cling to each other, relief and fear and everything else pouring out as they try to steady themselves. it’s messy and raw, but they need it. they need to feel that you’re going to be okay.

oscar pulls back, wiping at his eyes and trying to find the words. he’s never been good at this—at showing how much he cares, at letting himself be vulnerable. but he knows one thing for sure: he’s never letting you go without making sure you know just how deeply he loves you.

as the ambulance speeds away, oscar watches, feeling that familiar surge of love and fear. you’re tough—tougher than anyone gives you credit for—and you’re going to be back. you’re going to be alright.

and when you are, he’s going to be right there, holding onto you just a little bit tighter, because you’re everything to him.

for now, though, all that matters is that you’re still here, still fighting. mclaren’s favourite girl, his heart’s safe place. you’re the reason he races, the reason he loves, and the person he’s willing to hold onto with everything he has.

[antebunny]

go away

After Bruce Wayne dies, it only takes Tim about three weeks to show up on Dick Grayson’s doorstep with a 3-ring binder full of evidence. He runs a finger along the top metal ring of the binder over and over as he waits for a response to the doorbell. All at once he feels thirteen years old again, clutching months of painstakingly collected notes written up neatly and sorted into sections. Dick never read any of it, yet Tim did it all again. Had his photos developed for ease of viewing access, included sources for all of his claims, stuck to his main points for clarity’s sake but has pages and pages of extra information in the back of the binder for when–if–Dick decides to give his idea a thorough look. 

But Tim is seventeen years old now, old enough to know where he went wrong the first time. Yesterday he spent hours coming up with argument after argument, approach after approach, to get through to Dick. Mr. Grayson, I’m so sorry for your loss. He’s probably tired of hearing that. Mr. Grayson, I have something I think you’ll want to see. Too quick to the point. If he doesn’t recognize Tim, maybe he’ll try Mr. Grayson, I know about your night life and I want to help. If he does, then maybe Mr. Grayson, I want to say I’m sorry about last time, but this isn’t like last time, I swear–

The door opens. Tim knows that it’s Dick by the smell. Sweat, unwashed clothes, and misery. How like last time. Dick looks like the epitome of grief, which is to say, not like himself. Dick Grayson is a creature of happiness by nature, of high-flying freedom, of beloved family and friends, a picture-perfect cover boy, always adored, always with a beautiful redhead, Batgirl or Starfire or Arsenal, yes Tim knows his type, always kind, always charming, always happy to be there. But Tim only ever seems to know him in these liminal states of horrible tragedy. 

Worst of all, Tim can’t quite tell if Dick recognizes him. 

“Mr. Grayson,” he begins, heart pounding so loudly he cannot hear himself speak, “I don’t think Mr. Wayne is dead.”

For a moment longer than Tim’s entire lifespan, Dick just stares at him. Blue eyes hazy and unfocused. One hand on the doorframe, one hand dragging through the stubble growing on his half-shaved jaw. He’s wearing an AC/DC shirt. Given Dick’s fashion tastes (bright colors) and Bruce Wayne’s music tastes, neither of which Tim should know, he is 98% certain that the AC/DC shirt used to belong to Bruce Wayne. 

When Dick finally speaks, his voice sounds like the death of all joy. 

“How many family members do I have to lose before you let me grieve in peace?”

Tim’s pounding heartbeat becomes a deafening white noise as Dick’s question pangs around his chest. His eyes sting so fiercly that Tim knows it is as visible as Dick’s misery. Nevertheless, he persists, if only for Bruce Wayne. No one else will save him if not for Tim. So even though his hero thinks Tim is a creepy little stalker with the unbelievable audacity to swagger into Dick’s life and tell him how to fix it, well. He’s not wrong, is he? What does it matter if Tim once upon a time dreamed of more? Saving Bruce Wayne is far more important than Tim’s nonexistent chances of becoming friends with Nightwing. 

“Jason came back.” Tim’s chin, lifted stubbornly, trembles. 

Dick’s face clouds over with a rage so terrible that Tim sincerely believes he’s about to get punched by Nightwing. Which wouldn’t be so bad. Tim deserves it, doesn’t he? Intruding on a stranger’s grief like this is probably a punchable offense. He’ll bear it all if only Dick listens, but it looks like he managed to blow it in the span of two sentences. 

In the end, though Dick’s hands curl into fists and his shoulders shake like traintracks, he turns his head at the last second and rests his forehead on the doorframe. Tears streak down his perfect jawline. Watching Dick Grayson cry is like watching Atlantis sink. It’s like watching the Mona Lisa go up in flames. Tim knows stuff like this is why Dick treats him like a celebrity-obsessed stalker living in a weird fantasy world where he’s a part of the Wayne family. He knows it’s why Dick hates him. Tim still can’t help that it’s captivating to watch.

“Go away,” Dick begs.

Tim has never felt more like the scum of the earth, yet still he’d persist if he thought there was a chance of getting Nightwing to listen to him. But there isn’t. So Tim, as lonely, rejected, unworthy and fucking correct as he is, sees himself out of the apartment building.

Two weeks later, he catches a flight to Lahore.

[kitashousewife]

“yes, rintaro?”

“hi-jesus, a warning next time would be nice,”

“you called me,” you huff, picking at the now dried mask on your face in the small reflection of the facetime. “what do you want, rin?”

suna is outside, walking rather quickly as the background is blurred around him. he lets out an airy laugh before looking at the screen.

“i’m drunk;” he smirks, continuing to walk but tripping a little, shaking the camera. you raise your eyebrows at him to continue. he sniffs. “and i’m coming over.”

“is your house broken or something?”

he giggles, then shakes his head. “nah, yours is closer though.”

you sigh and accept defeat. you knew your best friend was in the neighborhood from his social media posts, so it’s no surprise he’s deciding to drop in. it’s late though, well past midnight. you shuffle into your bathroom to rinse off the mask, setting your phone on the counter.

“when will you be here?”

he clears his throat and swallows. “i’m walking up the stairs, so 2 min-fuck-minutes,” he trips up the steps and groans.

“what? okay give me a minute, i’ll be right there,” you wash off your mask quickly and run to the door, realizing too late as you slide on your socked feet that you’re only in a t shirt, suna’s t shirt. you open the door to find a very intoxicated suna, leaning against your with heavy eyes and a smile, which turns to a frown when he sees you.

“hey, that’s mine,” he taps the collar of your shirt before pushing past you, slipping off his shoes and throwing his coat on the floor.

“you reek, rin. god, where were you?”

he smirks. now making himself comfy on the couch despite your protesting glares.

“the club a few blocks away, it was packed and-“ he hiccups. “y-yeah it was just busy. aran was there,”

“don’t fall asleep on my couch,” you tap his leg as you walk past, tidying up a little. he opens his eyes and sits up, slumped into the cushions. “how do you feel?”

suna doesn’t answer. he scrolls on his phone at full volume, completely ignoring you while chuckling at the different videos he comes across.

one of the worst things about your best friend was how stubborn he is normally, but that stubbornness triples when he’s had enough to drink.

you stand in front of him with your arms crossed for a few more seconds before you clear your throat. he finally looks up and waves.

“rin, why don’t you-“

“so yeah, aran was there and-“ he laughs at something on his phone, losing his train of thought.

“how about you take a shower?”

“no,” he pouts again. “why don’t you take a shower?”

you huff. “i’m calling aran to get y-“

“i think i’m going to take a shower,” he grunts, standing up and following you to the bathroom while you grab towels for him. when you finish turning the water, he begins to lift up his shirt.

“uh-uh,” you laugh to yourself and slip out the door, pulling it shut. “you can do that in private. take your time, i’m going to bed.”

“but what if i wanted you to see?”

you stutter. “y-you’re drunk, rin. just shower, please.”

you hear him clamber into the shower soon after and retreat to your bed. as you settle in, suna’s comment continues to nag at you. sure, he jokes around and has his fun with you. but in the many years being his best friend, he’s never made any sort of effort to make a move on you.

you feel dizzy, suddenly picturing suna in a way you had never before. it felt like jumping off the high dive and into water all at once.

“what am i supposed to wear?” a very wet suna waltzes into your room with a towel on his waist, and you wish you could jump into that pool right now. you can’t take your eyes off his torso, eyeing the defined muscle as they flex with every step.

“there’s s-some of your clothes here from last time, they’re clean i just forgot to give them to you,” you jump out of bed and rummage through your closet before handing him his belongings.

“oh cool,” he walks back to the bathroom, bumping into the wall on the way. you slink back to bed without another word.

just as you’re drifting off to sleep, your mattress dips.

“hi,” suna breathes, getting under your covers with you.

“what are you doing?” you hiss, voice a whisper. he stares back at you with an irritated look.

“painting a picture, what does it look like? i’m going to bed,” he huffs, pulling your covers over him and leaving your legs exposed to the cold air.

“rintaro,” you pull the covers back over you and he groans. “i don’t want to hear it! if you’re going to sleep in my bed at least share.”

he remains quiet, making himself comfortable on the other side of the bed. meanwhile, your heart is racing and your mind is fighting between being bothered and pining over your best friend.

“did you use my shampoo?”

“of course i did,” suna’s voice is tired as he finally settles in. “the extra stuff you gave me sucks. and you smell good so thought i’d use it,”

your heart skips a beat. you don’t say anything, though.

your eyes get a little heavy, mind finally relaxing as the heavy sounds of suna’s breathing lull you to sleep.

the next morning you wake up next to your best friend, blinking a few times before you get a good look at him. he’s resting against the pillow, your blanket pulled up to his bare chest while he scrolls on his phone.

“good morning rin,” you mumble, yawning and sitting up. “did you sleep okay? are you feeling today today?”

“slept great,” he mumbles, eyes not leaving his screen. “i feel okay. head hurts,”

you nod, handing him your water bottle and an aspirin from your bedside table which he happily takes.

“thanks for letting me stay here by he way,”

“of course,” you watch as he sits up, blankets falling to his hips and showcasing his muscles once more.

“i feel bad that you had to deal with me,” he looks you in your eyes and for some reason, it feels different from normal. you shrug.

“i don’t mind.”

he smirks and gets comfortable once more, but begins typing on his phone with a giggle.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothing,” he smirks at the screen. “i just told aran we slept together, though.

“rintaro!”

[moonlight-prose]

HUGH JACKMAN CHARACTERS MASTERLIST✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

note: below is the extensive list of fics i've written for hugh jackman characters. logan might wind up with his own masterlist later one, but for now he can be found here.

Under no circumstances may you steal my work, say it’s yours, or post it somewhere else. The writings I put on here are mine unless stated otherwise.

smut =🔥| angst =💫 | fluff =🌙

LOGAN HOWLETT ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Right Where You Left Me | 18+🔥| ONGOING SERIES

summary: logan was familiar with death. he understood why it happened, what could cause it to occur, and finally how to accept it. so when his family - the people he cared for most - died…he thought he could handle it. only you didn’t die. you left. now he’s found himself in a new universe with a person who wears your face, yet doesn’t hold your memories.

Heart Made of Glass |💫

summary: you couldn’t control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.

The Grave of Lust | 18+🔥| Old Man!Logan

summary: when his body doesn’t work as it used to and the weary bones that poison his soul begin to ache, you take the lead in a dance you know well. OR giving old man logan sloppy head that he’ll think about in the grave and after.

Sweetness of the Damned | 18+🔥| Old Man!Logan

summary: when night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs.

Slow | 18+🔥| Old Man!Logan

summary: time spent after long days outside is slow. languid in a way only he can give you.

Taste Me on Your Tongue | 18+🔥

summary: the taste of him became an addiction you couldn’t ignore. especially when he was adamant on sharing it in multiple ways.

old man logan thoughts & musings | 18+🔥| pt.2 | pt.3

summary: thoughts about this old man and how much he's feral for you.

hunger | 18+🔥

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life | 18+🔥

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

Pick Your Poison | 18+🔥| ONGOING SERIES

summary: death meant nothing to someone steeped in it. a shovel remained propped next to your front door, a bag of grave dirt hung on a hook, and a collection of poison was stuffed in your cabinets. only when you arise in the vicinity of a lumberjack named logan, you’re in for a rude awakening.

A Case of You | 18+🔥| old man!logan howlett x f!reader x joel miller | UPCOMING SERIES

summary: life in jackson was quiet. serenity in a bottle that’d been poured out along the side of a mountain. a haven to finally grasp some parts of life that you thought were lost forever. you had your apothecary shop, your home, but still some piece of your heart was missing. until you meet your neighbors and come across the full picture of your future you didn’t have before.

have a cigar | 18+🔥

summary: everyone knows who you belong to. if the jacket you wore that left you drowning in the soft leather wasn’t indication enough, then the claws attached to your guard dog certainly was.

Don't Mind Me |🌙

summary: you refused to admit that you were smitten with the man who melted your otherwise intelligent mind. you were however…horrible with subtlety. luckily the same could be said for him.

Wondering Why | 18+🔥| cowboy!old man logan

summary: loving logan howlett felt like loving a ghost. he returned when the moon hung low in the sky and his time gave way for freedom. but when you needed him most, he arrived on your doorstep with the promise of giving you exactly what you want.

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind | 18+🔥| dofp!logan

summary: they told him to change the future, to right the wrongs that the world caused. but he didn’t do it for them. he did it for the chance to see his lover one more time. even if he shared a different history than them.

Dust to Dust | 18+🔥| old man!logan

summary: when the days are long and he’s grown weary of everything, he knows he can find his peace in your body. that is until he brings a whole new understanding to the belt buckle that sits proudly on his waist.

nameless as a river undiscovered underground | 18+🔥

summary: his leather jacket remained a tie between your love and his. the weight of it, the smell of your intertwined scents, all revolved around a relationship he never thought would happen.

#logan thoughts & musings

EDDIE ALDEN ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

love is here to stay | 18+🔥

summary: mornings where the summer heat was unbearable and energy was nowhere to be found, made getting up a difficult task. add a sleepy eddie and a multitude of kisses and suddenly it became near impossible.

Hopelessly Devoted to You | UPCOMING

summary: being friends with eddie alden came with challenges. you'd known him since you were eleven and he was twelve and the funniest thing to do was push you down. yet now you're older and suddenly you see him as someone else.

DROVER ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Never Lovelier | 18+🔥| UPCOMING

summary: a day spent working with horses in the hot sun left him hungry for your affection. for the soft touch of your love. OR drover uses his whip for romantic interests.

LEOPOLD ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

UNTITLED FALL THEMED FIC

GABRIEL VAN HELSING ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

bound in the strands of permanence | 18+🔥

summary: he walked with monsters in the night, claiming their lives for a vendetta placed upon him by the church. but he found peace in daylight with the touch of your healing hands.

Amor Vincint Omnia | 18+🔥| UPCOMING SERIES

©moonlight-prose do not feed my work into ai, do not steal my work, if you are a minor, spam like my fics, or are a blank blog you will be blocked.

[court-jobi]

Kissproof

((Banner by me!! I don't own Horikoshi's work/characters))

Pairing: Todoroki x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 3.3k

Rating: G~

Warnings: Behold the FLUFF, soft Todoroki hours, est. relationship, slice of life, light jealousy, getting ready together, assurance, non-sexual intimacy, this is not 'touch her you die'-- this is 'touch her and ill stare at you till you do the right thing'

Summary:

Having grown up around a sister, Shoto Todoroki held no resentment about seeing you mull about hogging the mirror. On the contrary, he’d always found the care and details girls would put into their appearances to be remarkable. To be the one watching and sharing these intimate routines with you is something he treasures-- if only he could always keep you to himself like this… not always possible in a room chock-full of heroes with wandering eyes.

A/N: my first attempt at a todoroki fic? because he's so gentle and deserves everything wonderful?? This feels so different than my recent Bakugou works, and I love the change of pace. Hope yall like it too!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Having grown up around a sister, Shoto Todoroki held no resentment about seeing you mull about hogging the mirror. On the contrary, he’d always found the care and details girls would put into their appearances to be remarkable: a personal touch that adorned what beautiful foundation was already there.

The way the makeup artists would enhance his fellow heroes at press photoshoots should be hailed as art. He didn't see why makeup brushes were marketed any differently than those belonging to a painter. Industry-performing nonsense, he supposed. 

When you finally got a spare moment to yourself in this hotel suite in Kobe getting ready for dinner,  your circle of best girlfriends -brought into your life by his introduction- were deciding on dresses when Todoroki came over through the open conjoining room unnoticed, looking for you.

You’re still robed up post-shower and kept calling out answers to Kirishima and Midoriya on what to wear across the room. Bakugou had even swallowed his pride enough to ask you to get the ‘shitty cufflinks’ on his ‘shitty jacket’ right because his ‘shitty fingers’ couldn’t quite manage it. You’d become something of an invaluable resource by nature- maternal instincts seep from you so easily- but unfortunately have put you in last place in terms of getting ready.

As Todoroki entered your space, you were mid makeup; eyes almost done, but before lips or anything else past your light moisturizer. You caught his eye a bit embarrassed.

"Uh--hey, hon’~" you greet with complete fondness, despite his quiet intrusion.

With a small word of greeting back, he took a mental picture of this serene state of you. Something he can remember when he’s past the point of exhaustion on hour ten of patrol, and needs a lifeline. 

Unphased by the sight of piles of toiletry bags and finishing tools galore, he took a seat along the edge of the high-walled tub, pulling out his phone for a second while you processedwhat he was doing: making himself comfortable.

"Sorry, did you need the- um?"

He looked back up at you, gesturing limply towards the toilet, but he dismisses that suggestion. Certainly wasn't in line or anything for that; only for you. 

"No,” Todoroki dismissed calmly, “ just wondered if they were finally letting you be.”

You appeared pleased at his reasoning, jutting your hair back over your shoulder as he sat there smiling a bit in admiration. Phone’s properly set to silent now; nothing to interrupt the nice lofi streaming from your phone’s tiny speaker.

"I'll be done in a sec, it doesn’t take me too long. Just gotta, y'know- 'doll myself up'. Got a lot of heads to turn here tonight.”

Todoroki glares at you in a silly deadpan. "You're lovely in the company of one as you are in a hundred, but if more makes you happy, do whatever you'd like."

You turned back to the mirror to carry on, in view to catch him looking over at you every now again in the reflection. Your effortless flair for polishing was a thing to witness firsthand. He was hardly bored, watching you; as entertained as can be rather than begging ‘are you done yet’ through tired stares. 

"Guess you're really not one of those ‘no makeup’ guys,” you chime from the vanity. 

"Hm?" Todoroki livens up as you engage with him after a long stretch of silence. 

"Most boys have pretty strong opinions about girls in full face. Like, ‘you really shouldn’t wear so much’. Or on the flip side, like ‘ooooo she's gotta wear red’ or ‘make sure it matches the nails’ or how it takes too long..."

From your poised exterior, Todoroki finds your swirling stream of consciousness a funny contrast when you let him in on your thought process.

With a patient smirk, he merely tilts his head at you, “Did you ask for my opinion?”

You’re torn for a minute- clear that you're worried about offending him and quick to respond,

“--Not that I'd hate it~ but I don't think so, no,” you answer.

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Todoroki answers you comfortably. “It’s your hobby, sweetheart. You should enjoy it for you.”

Your freshly finished eyes crinkle at him, “Just don’t want you bored out of your mind over there, not even having a say.”

"Do you mind my being here?"

Peaceably, you keep his stare. "No, not at all."

"Then don’t worry about what I think. You like doing it, I get the time with you, so you can take as long as you’d like."

Capping the mascara, you double tap your phone to illuminate it, “We’re good on time, right?”

Confident in a companionable sort of way, Todoroki defends that however much time you need, you’ll get. He’d give you the moon if he could.

“Time’s yours. No rush.”

It’s the truth; Todoroki benefits from either state of you– whether it's brushed on or not, he gets the chance to soak in your beauty as you allow him to. The intimacy of these lovely feminine practices is what appeals to him anyway. It could be watching you dole out your extensive skincare or something as simple as handing you your prized chapstick when it’s cold; Todoroki just loves watching you tend to yourself– and letting him in on the secrets.

He allowed his head to rest on the wall as he watched you put highlighter and a deep lip color on that complemented your dress of choice. Then as you brought some hair up to see the whole finished look, it’s only at this stage that he piped up again.

"What color is your dress?"

You turned a bit to the open entryway closet, where your roommates all sufficiently moved in and prepped for the weekend’s events. A mix of hero garb and formalwear lined the maxxed out closet.

"It's that black sleeveless one in there, if you don’t mind grabbing it?" 

As you were now in the middle of putting on an earring, Todoroki passed behind you to do just that. 

He came back with the hotel’s branded hangar, and you pulled it up to pet the fabric in appreciation.

"I like it cuz it’s super soft on the inside. No pockets though," you made a teasing whisper mocking where the inert should be. Todoroki rolled his eyes playfully.

"You women and your pockets."

"They're all designed by men who don't understand! You know that, right?"

"Are you going to keep complaining, or put it on?"

You turned with a little sway, "Ahhh, now I see why I have an audience..."

Todoroki suddenly found an ounce of shame and shy, contrasting eyes, and he stamped on an apology to not appear so hungry, "U-um, sorry. I'll uh–,"

You dismissed his gentlemanly move to exit– and tugged him forward instead. You leaned in close to his ear, 

"I'll be right out. Don't go far– I’ll need you."

Not a minute later, you met the room with half the girls fiddling over Iida’s suit and half over Midoriya’s finishing touches when Mina squealed your return:

"OH YES, BABE! This is IT!!"

Eyes all shot to you in your final reveal. You gave the little model leg stance under the attention, highlighting the leg slit and jeweled accent down the leg. The move made poor ‘Deku’ choke at the sight, and Kirishima froze all coherent thought for a split second (as he did for just about all his friends). 

Todoroki turned around from his view by the window to meet your expectant eye. Despite having seen every bit of your outfit come together, he completed a full check out on you and didn't hide his smirk well.

"Oh my God, Todoroki, you’re ogling– quit that!!" Hagakure chided.

"Not until she quits that."

His admiration of you held no shame whatsoever– which you accepted a long time ago.

"I'll -erm- just say you look great, chief! Not anything else, man!!" Kirishima was quick to appease Todoroki’s acute glare at the enthusiasm for you, his coworker. Kirishima would ordinarily argue you were his work wife, but not in front of ‘Icyhot’.

"Thanks hunny," You smiled innocently enough,but ultimately joined Todoroki’s warm side.

He outstretched an arm out to pull you in, only to notice you twirl around to him to show where you did need his help after all. Pinned down by your precariously positioned hand behind your back, Todoroki could now see you needed zipped up.

A caring touch was needed, and his heart softened unfairly with the insinuation that you wanted his touch to be the one to do it. By your expectant look over your shoulder, it’s sweetly implied that you’d never consider anyone else for the job.

Once done, your turning back around allowed you the space to straighten out his lapel more affectionately– he didn’t see what about this was particularly endearing, but your pampering gesture brings a swoon from all the women in the room.

Todoroki zoned out for a moment– holding close the feeling that he never wanted to be at an event where you weren't by his side like this. His hands settle appropriately to your waist in a comfortable hug while you admire his suit with surprise.

"This cut is really nice on you. You need to remember this one for the agency dinner next month!"

He tips his head down a bit at the compliment but turned it around to you quickly, 

"I could say the same for you; but I have the feeling anything you choose would have the same effect as this. You sure wear the dress, not the other way around."

"Flatterer."

A warmhanded brush of fingers to your neck, just as you like it,

"Gorgeous."

"Oh GOD,” Bakugou revolts, “don't make me PUKE, ICYHOT!!"

That night, each step you took had Todoroki seeking you out- the clack of your heel piquing his attention. 

His magnetic attraction fell gently over you tonight as always… though your reaction to his sights on you would drag him near the rest of the way: a fierceness he adored about you. How you protected the bond you shared -displaying your love loudly- was an appreciated sign of commitment, whether it took the form of a hand in his, your body pressed close into his side, or through a whispered word meant only for his ears.

One point in the night after supper, Todoroki parted from you briefly. Not far, but you’d strayed off with a few mutual friends engrossed in your own conversation, the social butterfly you were that outshone his more withdrawn personality. The assembly brought some pro-heroes from several districts together and acted as both networking and reunion for those separated by vocation.

You're catching up with an old friend of yours who Todoroki can almost name– if not for the itch of irritation clouding his long term memory. 

There were many whom you’d shared stories of from your past, though the man before you carried a classically flirty energy Todoroki felt he should recall. He’s half listening to Kirishima’s recent advances to the old flame the redhead was tending to– in favor of monitoring the situation involving his own. 

Fortunately, his powers of observation suit him well even in instances like this, where Todoroki can sense from your neck’s tilt alone that you’re locked in conversation, but don’t perceive a threat in your eyes. 

–But unfortunately, it did little to settle his own reservations. Firm reservations. The man had you twirl a bit in an old 1940s style show over your outfit, which only sent poor Todoroki into alert mode. 

He held his glass a bit tighter and tried to not stare bullets into the brunette, yet failed. 

Kirishima’s brief little nudge righted Todoroki’s damning sights on your present company. The unspoken word he held with a raised brow gave Todoroki a fair amount of encouragement, and a check on his palpable jealousy.

“Y’know,” Kirishima took in the sights of the exquisite lighting above their heads, “For a guy who’s got the most temperamental quirk I’ve seen, you’ve got a pretty funny way of showing when you’re unnerved.”

Todoroki bit his tongue from spouting something harsh back, “What do you mean.”

“Normally when folks get hot over something, you can see steam comin’ out their ears, Tom & Jerry style~” Kirishima chuffed. “You on the other hand– take an icy approach.”

Looking down for once, Todoroki noted he now held a frosted glass– more than his crafted cocktail iceblock should do. 

“But hey, keeps your drink from getting watered down, eh? Wish I could have that sort of tell!”

Kept in check by ‘Riot’s playful sense of security, Todoroki calmed his own flare of green. 

It certainly wasn’t his best quality; there was still plenty in his nature that he’s been actively trying to overwrite. His owning of his emotions is work he implements in everyday risk and battle. Though in his efforts to not let those same extreme emotions tear his fledgling little family apart (the one he shares with you), Todoroki tends to take a polarizing approach to his role as a supportive partner than the one his father modeled for him:

Where his old man viewed his wife as subservient and held strict boundaries within their dynamic, the tie he held to you was a treasured partnership. An act of give and take, but one he chose to adore and never take for granted– not for an instant. He was simply protective– at least he was trying to be, in the most even-tempered way.

It was a tender thing he was gifted, in a surprising turn of fate he believed he may never have found for himself… but one thing Todoroki swears to is that coming into your favor was a balm for him. Something steady, something breathing, a lifeline that enriched everything it touched, including his view on the very world itself.

Not just because you were the woman he fully intended to marry someday: but that you were a light he wanted to keep warm and safe and never let anything threaten that shine.

Just relying on the constancy that the very thought of you brings to mind eases Todoroki’s spirit, and he can now react to Kirishima’s asides about Bakugou and Midoriya’s current rivaling ‘dance’ around the dessert table with a lighter heart.

After ignoring where his mind had fallen away to for a moment, a touch brought his attention back to you, who was leading said peacock over. You got real close into Todoroki’s space, a hint he grappled onto immediately as you lowered your tone of voice… purposefully, to make the point clear,

"Hey sweetheart, I brought a old friend over I'd like you to meet!” 

You touched along his chest for security, but it’s a sincere move that would assure even a perfect stranger what the nature of your relationship is. 

“After all,” -casual as you sound, you’re fixed on Todoroki alone- “I wanted everyone here in my circle to know who the next top hero in Japan is... so they can say they knew him when~"

Todoroki looked from you back to the brunette, who seemed a bit taken aback at your crystal clear relationship status now. And boy, did Shoto want nothing more than to play into that. 

But in his perfect, practiced graces, Todoroki met your friend’s gaze with a hand reeling you in close by the waist.

Ordinarily he’d bow or at the very least extend a hand to shake– but pocketing his other hand instead felt like the more appropriate move. A confident stance, assured by your presence once again rubbing at his back unseen.

"How sweet of you, darling. Shoto Todoroki, a pleasure."

Pleasantries are shared, and you never budge once from his hold even to switch weight from one foot to the other. Todoroki feels every bit the power couple, with you by his side.

Once your company did leave after brief chatter again (primarily led by you) did you almost chortle into Todoroki’s neck,

"Oh my God, Sho~ you are steaming."

Todoroki keeps a calm exterior, but hints at his earlier irritation playfully enough in a crowd full of people, "Why was he touching you."

"He's from the islands down south, super big dance culture. Plenty of those dance nights at the student union were headed up by him alone, back in the day….”

But you didn't want to excuse your man's feelings as you caught his eyes,

“Though as it seemed he was willing to pick up some things where he feels we left off, I had to see him straight,” you ran relaxed fingers down his coat’s opening. “Figured I'd let you have a bit of fun, and I'm very glad you behaved."

Todoroki moved you into the music that began queueing up at the moment, so it seemed more like a dance.

"I think I'm having second thoughts about the dress now,” he murmurs with a crafty eye to you. Not aimed to be mean, because there’s plenty of love in his look to spare, “I'm not so sure it sends the right message."

Centering to the front of him, you relished in Todoroki’s duality of design. "Oh?"

"He was drooling over you," He sounded firm.

"And you're not?" You teased by his ear. That comment pressed you closer to him. Maybe a touch possessive, but still giving you plenty of space to settle and push back if you wished. 

Your voice dripped of its soft nature you reserved for him- genuine, and not the customer-service persona you gave off when in control…

"This dress was for me and you, y’know. No one else. See how it matches?” you trace along the inner lining of the jacket, fingers dipping inside where the warmth is captured. 

You draw a special kanji over his heart, a blend of your initials hidden by his coat~

“I’d have my mark on you too, if it wouldn’t look so obvious. Just you, my prince."

Todoroki smiled a bit towards your shoulder, appeased for the moment, catching your eyes again, "I'd like to kiss you for that. But I know how much you worked on all this."

You smirked. Without a word, you smudged a finger to your lips  brusquely, and showed no color at all left behind on the finger. 

"Girl magic: kiss-proof."

Todoroki’s eyes lit for a second before he grinned again. This time, he caught the gaze of another couple standing off to the wall who seemed to be noticing you two, and he very purposefully decided on giving a show, no matter who sees. He’s insanely proud of you, after all, so he could risk a little expression tonight. 

He caressed your neck gently and brought you into a close, full kiss that you chuckled lowly into. He looked blissed and a touch smug on standing back.

"Better, hon’?"

"Better," He smoothed a hand up your back until he took your hand to stay in his arm, "although I think I'll stick a little closer to you tonight, all the same."

"No complaints here," You took a walk through here and there, and managed to claim a view by the tall windows overlooking the nightlife below. "--especially with you trying out a new pet name back there..."

"You liked that, huh?" Todoroki came to stand behind you, and you leaned back into his hug.

You tugged his arms around to where they caressed your sides and swayed a bit comfortably.

He smiled and chuckled into your back, pressing a little kiss onto your forehead offered to him.

Shoto stands with you as you're looking far out into the city, but all he cares about is the window's reflection on you:

Not a paint stroke out of place, even after his kiss. A portrait the room should very well be envious of, but that he’s fully secure is all for him.

"Darling it is."

[magics-neptunes-things]

You Belong With Me

Hi guys!

I'm finally working on my WIP's. This is a request I received a long time ago, I'm so sorry for the wait. You can find it here.

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Alcohol

When Alessia moved to Arsenal, you were happy because you always found her very talented. You saw her playing during the World Cup and with you already playing for Arsenal, you had to play against her several times.

You love her play, and she seems really sweet, which is not a bad thing. You remember being with Leah in the medical centre when Alessia came to sign her contract. The other blond introduced both of you and since then you are inseparable.

You do all your drills together, you sometimes come together for training, and you sit almost always next to each other on the coach when you are travelling in the country for games.

This summer you even went to Ibiza together, even if there were more pictures of Alessia and Toone, you were there too. And you really had a blast there, enjoying every single day. You come even closer to Alessia, and you have to control yourself to keep your gesture friendly.

You are separated during the national breaks though. For this one you go back to your country, or wherever the camp is, while Alessia stays in England with her national teammates.

This is during the last camp that you realize how much you were fucked up. You missed Alessia every single second of the camp, wanting to hear her voice and talk to her all day long. You missed her smile, you missed her touch, you missed her perfume and even the way her hair whips your face during some exercises in training.

You messaged each other from time to time, but not every day. Sometimes Alessia took a long time to answer your messages and you hated the way your stomach makes you feel sick during this time. You don’t want to be a burden for her obviously, she’s your friend and she doesn’t see you like that.

So, after your return to London, you decide to be more distant with Alessia, for your mental health. Plus, the blonde has a lot of other friends on the team, so she won’t have any problems finding someone else.

You are late the first time you have to take the coach to go to Manchester and play your first game back. So, it’s not a problem to sit in front of Katie and Caitlin while Alessia is next to Kyra, several rows behind.

And since that move, you become more and more distant with her. You take more time to answer her messages, you avoid going to the team bonding and you always have something to do when Alessia proposes to drive you to training.

You see Alessia frowning from time to time, but like you were thinking, some of your teammates seem eager to spend time with her. It’s more difficult for you to find someone to do your drills with. Sometimes it’s Laia, sometimes it’s Steph. You have a great time with them, but it has nothing to do with doing it with Alessia.

You were really thinking that those changes aren’t bothering Alessia. But to be honest, it’s not exactly working on stopping your crush on her.

You have to fight the need to look at you every time you can, your eyes are attracted to her like two magnets.

The fact that you find her more beautiful every day probably doesn’t help either. But now you aren’t even crossing her eyes. When she starts to turn her eyes to look in your direction, you are already doing something else.

From friends you are now strangers and even if it breaks your heart, you know it’s for the better. If you confessed your feelings to Alessia, you would have lost her anyway. Like this, at least she won’t feel strange because of you.

“What’s the matter between you and Lessi?” Leah asks you while you are doing some drills.

For once, Lia chooses to partner with Mariona, letting Leah make them with you. You wait to send her the ball back before answering.

“What do you mean?” you ask with a poker face.

Leah sends you the ball back, not looking at you in the process. You like it that way, it doesn’t give you the impression of being grilled by her. You wonder if Alessia sends her to you, or if this is just a Captain’s duty.

“You were both so close and now it looks like you don’t even talk. Did something happen between you?”

“No” you shake your head. “We just… grow apart, I don’t know. It happens to people sometimes, just like Katie and you. You aren’t as close as you were some years ago”

It’s a poker move that you are making, to be honest. Sure, Leah and Katie aren’t close like before, but they are still friends. They are still talking, joking around and laughing together. Which you aren’t doing anymore with Alessia.

This time Leah looks at you with scepticism. You can see in her eyes that she doesn’t believe you at all. Just like if she knows how you would have killed just to have a hug from Alessia.

“If you say so” she finally says.

She doesn’t believe you, but at least she doesn’t push the subject. You are glad for it. You haven’t talked to anyone about your feelings for Alessia and why you made the decision to avoid her suddenly.

You finish your drills in silence, probably both lost in your thoughts. It’s only when you are finished and going back to the group that Leah talks again.  

“You know that you can talk to me about anything, yeah?”

You raise your head in Leah’s direction, and you feel your face softening a little. She seems really concerned about you. It makes you warm inside.

“Thank you” you smile.

“Anytime”

She gives you a side hug which you answer, passing both of your arms around her waist. You appreciate the girl, not in the way you appreciate Alessia. But under her stern glare, Leah is really a big softie.

Leah passes her arm around your shoulders and drags you near the team who is having a drink pause. It’s at this moment that you cross Alessia’s blue eyes. She gives you a tentative smile, which you answer with an uneasy one before hurrying to take a bottle of water.

Later that day, you were getting out of the showers, sure that no one was still here. You went to the medical team for a little strange feeling in your tight. It was nothing but you still had a massage before going to the shower. Only Steph and Beth were still there, and they told you goodbye when you entered the shower.

You took a long and hot shower, waiting for every part of your body to be really relaxed. It took time but you finally managed it.

No one was waiting for you at home, so you take your time to get dressed and prepare yourself. You were grabbing your bag when the door opens, and you froze when you see who is entering the locker room.

Alessia.

She seems surprised to see you here too and stays still for some seconds before opening her mouth.

“Oh, I thought you were already home” she says softly.

“I’m going now” you answer, passing next to her to reach the exit.

“Wait”

Alessia grabs your arm, and you froze once again. Alessia releases you very quickly, taking your frozen state for discomfort. She doesn’t realise that your stillness is because of the warm feeling that this simple touch makes you feel.

“Sorry” she mumbles, looking at her feet. “I was wondering… Is everything fine? We don’t talk like we used to”

You bite your lips softly before answering. She seems really touched by the situation and you feel your heart break a little more. But you shake yourself mentally. It’s for the better like this.

“Yeah, everything is fine” you smile. “Look I have to go; I have a meeting with my agent. See you tomorrow?”

“Are you coming to Beth’s?”

Beth is organising a team bonding tomorrow night, and you said you were going before Alessia answered. A mistake you usually aren’t making but you were unfocused while answering the invitation.

“Yes”

“Cool” Alessia smiles awkwardly.

You smile back before going out of here. Your cheeks are so red that it could have been used as decoration for an Arsenal video.

Coming here was a bad idea, you knew it. You almost wrote to Beth ten times to say that you weren’t coming, but you are still here, sandwiched on a couch between Laia and Mariona. Both girls were yapping in Spanish, Mariona’s hand somewhere on Lia’s knee. You were happy to be seated here though, at least you don’t need to talk or anything.

You saw Alessia looking at you several times, but she looked away every time you were looking back. Maybe your plan is starting to work, you thought with relief. Alessia talked almost all night with Lotte and Emily, far away from you. You can’t help but feel a little jealous though, hearing her laugh resonate in the room from time to time. But you shouldn’t feel that way.

She wrote to you yesterday and you ignored her text once again. You feel bad about it, but you don’t have the choice.

You may have drunk a little too much cider that Lia brought back from her training camps in France. Your teammates swear that it wasn’t with alcohol, but when you look at the bottle it’s said it in fact does have alcohol. Only a little but for those like you who aren't drinking alcohol at all, you don’t need a lot of it to feel your head start spinning.

You were looking at Myle sleeping when you hear a part of the conversation between Alessia, Emily and Lotte. You wish you wouldn’t have.

“So, how was the date Emily arranged you?” Lotte asks Alessia.

You feel your jaw contracting, without being able to really control your muscles. You stand up, mumbling something about the bathroom to Laia who looks at you with concern before getting out of the living room. You actually go to the bathroom, locking the door behind you before splashing cold water on your face.

Who did you think you could convince? In all your stupidity, you didn’t think for one second that Alessia could look for someone else. Of course she will, and you know that she probably has thousands of people waiting for her. She’s perfect and you are lousy.

You jump when you hear someone knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You are relieved to hear Lia’s voice and not Alessia’s. You take a deep breath before answering, you want to be sure that your voice will be okay.

“I’m fine. Just freshening up a little”

You close the tap and take another big breath before going out. Thank god your eyes aren’t red, and your cheeks aren’t flushed. Otherwise, you would have been screwed.

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Lia asks after having looked at you with a perfect arched eyebrow.

“I think I’ve been sick of the cider. It’s maybe better if I go home. Can you tell Beth? I don’t want the others to make fun of me”

You see her hesitate some seconds before answering.

“Don’t you want someone to take you home?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine” you shrug.

“Y/N.”

Lia grabs your hand, and you look at her, like a child is looking at his mother before being scolded. Lia just used what Kyra calls her “Mom’s voice”, but you got the feeling perfectly well right now.

“Don’t you dare driving, am I clear?”

“I won’t Lia, I swear” you smile softly. “I’m just going to walk home, and I will come back to take my car tomorrow. Really, don’t worry I’ll be fine, okay?”

You don’t really know if you will be fine, but you find your tentative lie pretty good actually. Lia seems to believe it anyway, not suspecting for a second that you probably will go home to cry in your bed. And pretend a hangover to stay at home for the next 24 hours.

Lia finally nods and says goodbye, letting you go to grab your jacket and your shoes. It’s only when you close the door behind you that you realise that no one saw that it started to rain. Which isn’t surprising because you literally live in London. But you still don’t have an umbrella or anything to hide under.

You sigh and start to walk. You aren’t leaving far away from Beth’s house, it’s only a ten minutes’ walk. Hiding your hands in your pocket, you cross the road and hurry a little bit. The fresh air is great for you, even if it probably would have been better without the rain.

“Y/N!”

You would have recognized that voice between every voice in the world. Even if she’s running and your ears are full of the noise of the rain.

When you turn in her direction, Alessia is crossing the street too, without a coat or a jacket or anything else other than her jumper.

“What are you doing here? Do you want to die from pneumonia?” you ask, your concern making you forget that you are supposed to ignore her.

“I just… I need to understand”

Alessia is looking at you, her beautiful eyes scanning your face and your eyes. But you don’t hold her gaze, preferring to look somewhere behind the street.

“No! Stop not looking at me!”

That sentence has the good point of surprising you enough to make you look at her. The rain sticks her long blond hair to her face, and you must take it on yourself not to clear that said beautiful face.

“You need to tell me what the matter is! I can’t remember when you stopped hugging me to say hello and I don’t understand why you are suddenly ghosting me. What is happening? What did I do?”

There is no escape for you now. You still can pretend that she’s imagining things and answer her like you said to Leah some days before. People just grow apart at some point. It’s sad, but it’s life. But you know that Alessia won’t believe that.

“You did nothing, Lessi. It’s just complicated” you sigh, passing a hand on your face.

“Then talk to me! Together we can work on it!”

“It doesn’t matter” you try to avoid the subject, walking away from a few steps.

But Alessia doesn’t seem to hear like this. She hurries to close the distance between you again, grabbing your arm once again. Her fingers are cold like ice on your skin, making you shiver. She must be freezing.

“It does matter, Y/N, fuck!”

You look at her with wide eyes. It’s maybe the first time you hear Alessia swearing outside of a football pitch. She looks genuinely upset. Seeing her like this isn’t easy for you, you could give your life for her. You never wanted to see her sad.  

“We were closer than anyone and now you act as if it never mattered to you. You said I did nothing, so what is it? Are you in trouble? Did you meet someone who is too jealous for you to hang on with me?”

You roll your eyes, suddenly annoyed when you remember that she went on a date with someone else several days ago.

“I’m not the one trying to date someone else” you grumble.

It takes Alessia by surprise. The blonde doesn’t seem to know what to answer to that, before finally opening her mouth.

“How does it even have a point with any of this?”

“I…”

“Y/N please…”

You groan, passing both hands on your face. Everything is so complicated and Alessia will definitely catch at least a cold or something. But she keeps pressing you and between the cold, the cider and all the feelings you have for this girl, you can’t contain yourself anymore.

“I like you, okay?” you finally almost shout in the middle of the street. “And not like you like a friend likes you, I like you. I’m the girl who fell in love with her straight beautiful best friend. I tried to fight against it, but I can’t, Alessia.”

You take a big breath, looking at Alessia’s drenched face. How is she still so attractive under the rain? It’s unbelievable.  She’s silent for now, looking at you with wide eyes and her mouth a little agape.

“You’re just so perfect and I didn’t want you to hate me, so I thought that if I drift apart from you, it will be better. But it’s not working at all. I can’t forget you and now you’re here looking at me and all I want to do is kiss you.”

You finally remember to breathe again and it takes some time for Alessia to finally talk again.

“You… You like me?” she finally manages to say, stuttering a little.

“Yes, I do” you sigh.

You wanted to add that now you really need to go inside and ask Beth if they can borrow some clothes. Alessia would probably need the ones from Viv, because there is no way that she can fit in something belonging to Beth.

But suddenly Alessia is grabbing your face with both of her hands, tilting it just a little to be in the right direction and then… Then she kisses you. Her lips are on yours and your brain is short-circuiting. You need several seconds before answering her kiss, finally processing that it’s really happening.

When she feels you kissing her back, Alessia lets go of your face with one of her hands to grab your neck and deepen the kiss. During this time, your arms went around her neck, keeping her close.

You don’t know for now what is happening in her head, maybe it’s just a one-time thing. So, you better remember every single second of it.

Alessia’s body is cold against yours, but the taste and the softness of her lips are amazing. Even better than what you imagined.

When the kiss ends, she presses her forehead against yours and your eyes automatically go for her lips.

“Less, let’s go home. Your lips are blue” you whisper.

You take her hand and pull a little on it for her to follow you. Which she finally does, following you under the rain. Your house is closer than hers, so you don’t hesitate before taking her here.

You wipe the puddles of water on your wooden floors while Alessia takes a hot shower, and she makes tea while you take yours. The effect of the alcohol seems to have been forgotten thanks to your talk with Alessia. Or maybe it’s the kiss.

It is definitely the kiss.

When you come back in the living room, wearing your pyjamas short and an old jersey from your national country, Alessia smiles shyly at you. She was looking at the steam from the mugs on the coffee table in front of her.

“We probably need to talk” the blonde says softly, when you are seated next to her on the couch.

“Yeah” you breathe, looking at the mug between your hands. “Look, if you want to forget about that kiss…”

“No, I don’t want to! Y/N you need to… Give me that” she cuts herself.

She takes the mug from your hand to put it back on the table, next to hers. You turn a surprised gaze on her when she grabs your hands, taking them between hers. Her hands are way hotter than before, really pleasant on your skin.

“You need to stop pretending I don’t like you back. I do like you. Maybe I realised it very late, but I do.”

You blink your eyes as you look at her, shocked. You didn’t expect this to be quite honest. You had time to prepare yourself for many eventualities during your shower and the one where Alessia announces that she got carried away a little is the one you thought the most plausible. Alessia is romantic. Which romantic people would refuse a kiss in the rain?

“I thought we were just friends, but when you stopped talking to me, it made me realise that there was more. I missed you, every single second. It was hard but it made me realise that I never really had friendly feelings for you.”

You were looking at her intensively, not missing a single word or a single facial expression. It seems too good to be true.

“But… You are straight” you frown.

“Haven’t you seen the TikTok trend “Gay for her” ?” she rolls her eyes.

You roll your eyes too but look at her again when she squeezes your hands. You love the feeling of her skin against yours.

“What if we try and it doesn’t work? I don’t want to lose you” you whisper.

“What if it does work? We can go at the pace we want, how we want. We don’t owe anything to anyone.”

It seems so easy saying like that. You finally address her a small smile, which she returns without any hesitation.

“I never thought you would reciprocate my feelings” you admit. “I think I will need time to deal with that information.”

Alessia laughs and you can’t hide your smile. You love seeing her happy and the way her eyes are sparkling make you understand that she is right now.

“We have all the time” she promises.

You are always smiling when you raise your hand to slowly stroke her face with your fingertips. Her lips aren’t blue anymore and her cheeks are even a little pink. She’s so beautiful.

“Can I kiss you again?” you ask with a soft smile.

Alessia smirks.

“You don’t need to ask for that.”

[estesphantom]

Ex-Husband John Price |

John Price headcanon

reader is she/her & works as a medic. John Price might be a little (insanely obsessed) love sick over his silly ex wife. He’s Joe Goldberg.

The two of you didn’t divorce because you fell out of love, or someone cheated, or any true “marital” problems many couples would divorce for. In fact, divorcing him killed you as it did him.

Being in the military is a job that is very demanding and although you knew of that when you married, you didn’t realize how much of an effect it had on the both of you. Though it was wrong, you felt like you could have more from a man that didn’t have a job that required more attention than your marriage did to him. John told you he understood your decision and respected you. He took weeks to sign the papers, though, with an excuse of being too busy.

The truth was that he let you divorce him because he knew you wouldn’t find a man that was better molded for you than he was. He was right. Of course he was.

“Mm, and how are you holding up, love?” he inquires while you fill up a pot of coffee in the break room. His eyes peered up at yours while you took a seat across from him on the couch. You two were making small talk and it had been only a few weeks after your divorce.

John let you keep the house, the dog, everything you would ask for. You felt guilty and pleaded with him to take something, anything he hadn’t already taken (which was only his clothes and documentations) but he refused. He wanted to prove he still respected and loved you after the divorce.

“Just fine. And you?” your delicate fingers rubbed your temples as you tried to free the stress from the first half of your shift. He stared at your badge which still had ‘DR. PRICE’ printed in bold black with a picture of your kind face above it.

“Good for you,” he smiles at you kindly, the same warm, handsome smile he’d given you a hundred times before and the first smile he’d given you when pronounced husband and wife. He didn’t answer the second part of your question.

Your attempts of finding a man that had enough time for you, or even any ounce of attraction towards you was rough. It seemed as if any man at work you would approach would dodge your attempts at flirting like the plague.

Men in the military were like starved lions; desperate, needy, and impulsive. You were a very attractive, young woman, which checked all of the boxes for the dogs working in the military. Hell, before you and the Captain became a thing, you had to bring pepper spray every day to make sure none of the men tried anything.

The absence of attention made you think. Then, you thought of your ex husband. The influence he has. His love that withstood signing the divorce papers and moving out of his home for your comfort and happiness.

You remembered the way he would make you promise you would never replace him. You remembered his vow to always look out for you and to never let anything become between you two. You remembered sleeping over at his apartment for the first time and finding a collection of your belongings that you thought went missing over the past few months. You remembered fiddling with the dusty mascara, the acrylic nail that had broken off during a date, the lipstick, the panties. You loved John because of how much he’d noticed of you and how much he loved you.

So, when your shifts were over and you were scrambling to find him, you felt mistaken for the divorce in the first place. Your feet stepped quickly as you called his name. His broad shoulders turned to face you and his facial expression immediately softened. Your heart slowed.

“Can you come home with me? There’s a- my air conditioning doesn’t really work anymore,” your face blushed up immediately as you came up with a dumb excuse on the spot. You wanted to slap yourself square in the face.

John chuckled. He was amused. He crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly to the side, staying quiet for a few seconds while contemplating his next move. He uncrossed his arms and grabbed his keys out of his pocket, using his free hand to pull your smaller hand into his. He saw right through you.

“Okay, love. It’ll cost you, though,” his thumb rubbed against yours as if it were always home for him. You hummed in response as he led you out of the base’s office to the car park where you would approach his car.

As you climbed into the car, you realized there truly wasn’t anyone out there who was meant for you the way John Price was.

His love wasn’t obsession, it was gratitude.

Right?

[luvjunie]

Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?

a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao

— headcanons. miles and miles as twins

Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.

They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.

“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”

42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side

Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day

1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.

“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”

They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth

42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that

42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly

They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different

“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”

Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.

You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish

When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight

They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits

“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”

They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her

They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally

Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day

42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.

“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”

They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other

42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it

1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—

“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”

Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half

“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”

[thesuperiorrobin]

Bruce told him countless times.

It’s dangerous to get close to a civilian as a hero. But when does Damian Wayne ever listen to his father? But he retreats it. He should have listened to him this one time, however. When the news broke out that a certain girl was taken in broad daylight on her way home from school, He knew. It was a gut feeling. A horrible feeling that ate him away.

You two have been caught countless times—with headlines booming on the news about the secret girl Robin has been seen with. The good thing is no one has gotten a good clear picture of your face.

Until now that is.

Damian doesn’t know how they found out about you—much less figure out the specific route you take home. It takes him two days to find out where you are. With no help.

He wanted to find you and bring you back home safely.

To your family and back to him.

The men that belonged to Joker weren’t bright, but they were kind enough to keep you fed at least. They wanted you alive to be used as bait to capture Robin. You kept your distance from them, tried to at least. When they asked you about his identity you kept your mouth shut. For one reason being that you don’t know his identity. They never believed you. It was always the same for two days straight. They’ll get angry and take it out on you if you said nothing—hopping that the constant abuse would lead you to blurt it out.

At the end of the second day, you’re curled away in the corner. Knees pulled to your chest, head down trying to hide away. You were scared that they were going to kill you if you didn’t fuss up, fearing that you’d die for something you never knew. You could hear heavy footsteps—the sound made your heart drop every time and when the door slammed open, you couldn’t help but let out a yelp, scooting closer to the wall hoping it’ll suck you up as you covered your face.

Someone grabs ahold of your wrist—as a reflex you try to get away from their hold. Thrashing and pulling, But they’re much stronger than you are.

“Let go!” You shout “I already told you I don’t know who he is! Please I’m telling the truth!”

“Hey—y/n—Hey!” Your ears seem to block out the person who calls out your name as you keep fighting until the person grasps ahold of your forearms—shanking you roughly to get you out of the trance. They bring their hand up and you flinch back.

“Y/n, It’s me! Please you need to calm down” You are taken aback by the sudden familiar voice and you finally open your eyes as you look up. Green, red, and yellow fill your vision—and green eyes stare back at yours. You recognize them.

You recognize him.

Damian stands before you with his mask stripped off his face and a worried look painted on his features. Your breathing is heavy “Dam……Damian?”

He nods, gloved hand bringing itself up towards your face gently as he brushes strands of hair out of your face to get a better look. Clothes torn, hair messy, dirt and specks of dried blood cover your body as well as faint bruises that he could see. It makes him angry, but his priority is you right now. Bruce is dealing with the idiots who took you.

“It’s me. Yes—are-are you alright?”

You don’t answer—instead, you throw yourself in his arms—wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you clutch his cape. Damian doesn’t hesitate as he wraps his arms around your waist securely, soothing you as he gently rubs up and down your back. Like how a parent would soothe their crying child at night. He can feel you shaking in his arms and sobs that escape past your lips break his heart, all he can do is stay quiet and hold you.

“It’s alright, I got you. You’re safe now”

[rottenfyre]

Do you think there's a very big difference of Anakin after his transition to dart Vader? Or the once sweet bright eyes boy still longer deep inside him? Also if I remember correctly his armor literally it on maiden on steroid it's so painful but it keep him alive maybe with reader presence near him it can help the pain a little

Oh, absolutely, there’s still a part of Anakin left inside Vader. I think that’s what makes him so tragic. Anakin never really stops loving—it’s just that his love becomes darker, more suffocating, and even more possessive once he transitions into Vader. The sweet, hopeful boy who dreamed of saving the galaxy? The one who looked at you like you were the center of his universe? He’s not gone—he’s just locked away.

Anakin’s love was always intense, borderline overwhelming. He’s the kind of person who would give you the galaxy if he could, and if he couldn’t, he’d burn it down for you instead. When he becomes Vader, that same devotion is still there—it’s just twisted into something that’s more terrifying than tender.

Think about it: as Anakin, he’s the type to whisper to you about how you’re his everything, how he can’t live without you, and how he’ll always protect you. But as Vader? Oh, it’s so much worse. He doesn’t just promise to protect you—he forces you to stay by his side, locking you away in a golden cage and daring others to come closer. In his mind, it’s for your own good. The galaxy is dangerous, and he’s already lost so much. He won’t risk losing you, even if it means controlling every aspect of your life.

Vader’s entire existence is fueled by pain—physical, emotional, spiritual. Every breath he takes in that suffocating armor reminds him of his failures, of how far he’s fallen. But when you’re there? You’re the only thing that makes him feel human again.

Like, imagine him in the middle of one of those long, lonely moments when it’s just him and the endless ache of his body and soul. Then you step into the room, and for the first time in hours—or days—he feels a flicker of relief. Your presence, your voice, the way you look at him like he’s still Anakin... it’s the only thing that quiets the storm inside him.

And yeah, let’s talk about that armor for a second. It’s hell. Every inch of it is designed to keep him alive, yes, but it’s also a prison. It’s like the Sith wanted him to suffer so his anger would stay sharp. The constant pain, the weight, the limitations—it’s unbearable. But when you’re near him? It’s like the Force shifts. The pain dulls, the pressure eases. It’s not a cure, but it’s enough to make him crave your presence even more.

Now, does he still love you as Vader? Oh, absolutely. In fact, his love for you becomes even more intense. Anakin’s love was passionate and overwhelming, but as Vader, it’s darker. He’s lost everything else, and you’re all he has left. He’ll do anything to keep you with him.

Picture this: you call him "Anakin," just once, softly, like you used to. He freezes. His breath hitches, the mechanical rasp faltering for a moment. No one’s called him that in years. No one dares. And yet, when you say it, it doesn’t feel like a rebuke. It feels like forgiveness. Like love.

Now, would Vader’s obsession be different from Anakin’s? Yes, in some ways. Anakin, for all his flaws, still has that boyish charm and overwhelming need to protect you. He’d do anything to make you happy—even if it means bending the rules or making selfish choices. Vader, on the other hand, doesn’t care about rules or even your happiness anymore. All he cares about is having you.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, his mechanical voice low and menacing. “You belong to me, now and always. No one will ever take you from me.”

It’s possessive. Claustrophobic. But also deeply, heartbreakingly vulnerable because you are his only light. He doesn’t even know how to express that without it coming out as a threat.

Now, if you call him Anakin—like, if you look into that black mask and say his name—he’s done. He’ll freeze, and for a moment, you’ll see him falter. It’s like all the layers of darkness peel back, and he’s just a broken man again, desperate for your love.

“Say it again,” he’d whisper, and for the first time, his voice doesn’t sound mechanical—it sounds human.

And you better believe he’ll latch onto that. He’ll want you to keep saying his name, keep looking at him with those soft, forgiving eyes. You might even catch him hesitating—his voice softer, his touch gentler.

But then the guilt sets in. He doesn’t think he deserves to be Anakin anymore, not after everything he’s done. So, he buries that part of himself even deeper and clings to you even harder because you’re the only good thing he has left.

I like to think that, even as Vader, your presence is the only thing tethering him to his humanity. Without you, he’s lost. But with you? There’s still a glimmer of hope that the man he once was might come back.

In short: Vader is still Anakin, but his love for you is darker, more obsessive, and far more dangerous. He’s not the sweet, bright-eyed boy anymore, but he’ll always be yours, in his own twisted way. And honestly? That’s what makes him so compelling. You’re the one thing that keeps him human, but his obsession can either save him or destroy him—and you along with it.

[emotionalmessss]

Hiii! Can I request yandere Chrollo when reader tries to escape? Hc? Fic? If you want 🥰

A/N: I feel like I haven't written anything in so long (school is going to be the death of me I swear). I'm trying to be more active with my writing now that I've officially graduated, I'm sorry for ghosting! Anyways, enjoy Yan!Chrollo :)

Warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy/forced relationship, implied kidnapping, slight mention of violence and non-consensual touching, and psychological abuse. Chrollo is basically a warning himself lol.

Chrollo is always one step ahead. After all, he is the head of the Spider, so if you think you can escape from him--good fucking luck. He is cunning, meticulous, and devoted to having you back where you belong--in his arms. But that doesn't stop you from trying, does it?

Congratulations for managing to slip through his fingers, but it won't stay that way for long. There is nowhere in the world for you to hide from Chrollo, he will hunt you down using whatever means that will ensure his success. So, enjoy the freedom while it lasts, because it won't last very long.

Sure, Chrollo might be slightly ruffled at the fact that you actually managed to escape. But will he let that affect his calm composure? No, definitely not. Chrollo plays the long game, and he does it best. And who's to say that he didn't intentionally let you escape? To give you that brief, sweet taste of freedom, only to rip it away at the last second?

Chrollo’s expression remains impassive as he lounges on the plush couch in the middle of his expansive living room. Reclining comfortably into the cushions, he folds one leg over the other while using one hand to flip through the book in his lap. He is perfectly aware of your absence from the apartment--how could he not notice when the air lacks the usual animosity that only you can bring? 

Despite the apartment lacking its usual vibrancy, Chrollo remains calm and composed, a trait that has always irked you. His composure never slips, even now. He finds it pitifully endearing that you thought you could outsmart him--have you learned nothing? Chrollo doesn’t know if he wants to praise you for your bravery or laugh at your naivety. 

Sighing, he stretches his legs out across the coffee table, idly smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles on his dress shirt. You thought escape was an option? How quaint. His lips curl into a faint, knowing smirk; his predictions had been correct--like always. While Chrollo can’t deny that he finds your actions mildly irritating, they are more entertaining than anything else--not that he’d ever show it.

“It’s intriguing, really, how you thought you could just slip away from me,” Chrollo mutters to himself, his voice measured and almost serene. His big, gray eyes finally look up from the antique book in his lap, drifting towards the large window that offers a view of Yorknew City’s skyline. Somewhere out there, you’re hiding, and he can clearly picture the mixture of relief, fear, and paranoia etched on your pretty face. 

He taps his fingers on the armrest of the couch--the only sign that his mind is working in overdrive. Clicking his tongue thoughtfully, Chrollo tilts his head back down to the book resting on his thighs. Running a hand through his raven locks, he lets out a hollow chuckle, quickly followed by a deep sigh. For now, he’d let you play your little game, but in the end, you would not win.

Just like everything else, Chrollo's response will be chilling and methodical. As the head of the Spider, he'll use all the resources he has to get his love back. But for the time being, he will let you enjoy your little game. He's more than confident you'll be back where you belong. Make sure to keep looking over your shoulder every so often, he won't be far behind.

Chrollo will have you back in his grasp, no matter how much you kick, cry, and scream. He will remain unflinchingly composed, acting as though you were merely a small animal that needed to be handled with gentle care. The entire time, he'll have that small, almost invisible smile tugging at his lips--that smile that you've come to hate and suggests bad things for you.

Once he finds you--if he hasn't already been watching you the entire time--he'll strike when the time is right, and when the circumstances align in his favour. He won't be openly aggressive, definitely not towards you. Chrollo will take a different route, one that involves planning, scheming, and manipulation.

Consequences? Oh, there has to be some consequences for your disobedience. But, Chrollo would never lay a violent hand on you. No, that's not his style. He could never physically hurt his love. He can hurt you in other ways, though. Friends and family? That's a whole other story. Chrollo being Chrollo, will do whatever it takes to ensure you comply. Only if he's pushed to that point.

In Chrollo's twisted mind, he is protecting you from the dangers of the world--like a good lover should. He firmly believes that the only place for you to be happy and safe is by his side. He'll manipulate you into believing that you need him, and that even the thought of escaping is utterly impossible.

You’ve been sprinting through the empty streets of Yorknew City for hours, and no matter how far you run, you can’t seem to shake the terror that threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, your feet sting, your lungs burn, and your mind is a jumbled fucking mess--is this what insanity feels like or has Chrollo corrupted you so much? Neither of those reasonings are favourable, but you’d probably choose insanity over Chrollo. 

Frantically, you examine your surroundings as you come to a stop, panting and keeling over. You sluggishly move towards the corner of a large building, slumping back against the bricks and wipe the glistening sweat from your forehead. This is Hell, isn’t it? Clutching your chest, your mind races with a slew of possibilities; different escape routes, places to hide, and potential consequences should you get caught. 

What would the reincarnation of the Devil himself do to you if he were to catch you? Would he hurt you? The odds of Chrollo physically hurting you are slim, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t harm you in other ways. Despite spending an unwilling amount of time with him, you could never fully understand the bastard. You weren’t entirely sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

“Get it together, fuck.” Your voice comes out strained and raspy as you forcefully compose yourself, shoving off from the wall to round the corner of the building. Every detail about that man pisses you off--his calculated mannerisms, his unflinching composure, his studying eyes that make you feel like he’s staring into your soul, and that god-awful smile that never looked genuine. 

Just when you soothe your chaotic mind and turn the corner of the building, he appears before you. Your heart plummets, and your feet drag across the pavement as you abruptly halt, completely paralyzed under his scrutinizing gaze. You watch him like a cornered animal, prepared to flee at the slightest sign of malice. But, of course, there is none--perfectly expected from a man like Chrollo. 

“My dear,” Chrollo begins, using the endearing nickname you’ve come to loathe. His voice completely devoid of aggression, showing no hint of the manipulative thoughts that are definitely running through his mind. “Wandering the streets alone at this hour isn’t wise,” he chides gently, his tone tinged with condescension. “Come now, let’s get you back home.” His hand extends towards you, as if he’s giving you a choice. 

You muster up a sliver of self-control, refraining from cussing him out. Instead, you take a cautious step backwards--away from the beast. Noticing this, Chrollo’s lips pull into a slight smile, and his hand returns to his side. He doesn’t move an inch, letting out a resigned sigh that suggests he had anticipated this outcome. His gray eyes never leave yours as the sound of approaching footsteps begins fill the silent street. 

“Please, let’s not make this more difficult than it needs to be,” Chrollo continues, his attention focused on you, purposely feigning ignorance of his loyal Spiders who are slowly encircling both of you. He remains the epitome of calm, acting as if your escape attempt was just a minor inconvenience. You stand still, and the Spiders close in, strategically blocking off all paths except for the one leading to Chrollo. 

[mochiwrites]

Jellie tends to be a very curious cat, sometimes. She likes poking her nose into places it doesn’t belong, or snatching things from Scar and Grian when they catch her interest.

Maybe Scar should’ve known better, then.

He sits in his and Grian’s bedroom (it’s been theirs pretty much after the second month Scar moved in), a ring in his hands. The metal is cool against his palm, a soft rose gold. The band isn’t anything special, a simple engraving in it. Scar knew Grian would throw a fit if he found out Scar spent so many diamonds on the ring. So he tried to get something reasonable.

He can spoil Grian with the actual ring.

If he says yes, that is. Just the thought makes a shiver run of Scar’s spine. Is he really doing this? He and Grian have only been together for a year and a half, but Scar just knows that he’s the one. There isn’t any doubt in his mind about it. But does Grian feel the same?

Jellie jumps up on the bed next to Scar, meowing at him. She brushes her head against his arm as she settles beside him, and Scar smiles. “Well hello there beautiful lady. Are we requesting pets?” he teases as he brushes a hand through her fur. She curls up close to him, leaning into his touch. Scar sighs softly, scratching behind her ear. “I don’t know Jellie… do you think he’ll say yes?” he asks quietly. She stares blankly up at him. “Yeah okay, fair enough.”

Past their bedroom, the front door opens and shuts. “Scar, I’m home!”

Scar jumps up, disturbing a content Jellie. He shoots her an apologetic look, giving her one last pet. But the most crucial piece?

He makes the mistake of leaving the engagement ring on the bed.

As Scar walks out the room to greet his boyfriend, Jellie takes to making their bed her own. Yet as she moves, the shiny ring catches her attention. She tilts her head, curious about the shiny object. Sticking a paw out, she swats it. Again. And again. And again. Until the ring tips over the side of the bed, dropping to the floor with a ‘plop.’

Her pupils widen in that playful way they tend to do, wiggling before she pounces.

Oblivious to what his cat is doing, Scar is sweeping his boyfriend into a hug. “How was work?” he questions, looking down at Grian with a curious yet soft gaze.

“Tiring,” Grian huffs, content to melt into Scar’s grasp. He lifts his arms, returning the embrace as he does so. “I had to remake the blueprint at least five times until the guy was happy with it.”

Scar winces, “Eesh. Now I’m kind of glad he only wanted you to meet with him.”

Grian glowers at him in return, though the look is entirely playful. “Yeah, yeah.” He leans up, brushing their lips together in a soft kiss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

“I think I will, thank you.” Scar grins, stealing a kiss. “How does a movie and dinner sound?” He bumps their noses together as he smiles.

“Let me think about it,” Grian hums, booping his nose against Scar’s as he does so. “As long as there’s ice cream after.”

Scar lets out an affronted gasp, pulling away. “I’m offended you think there wouldn’t be ice cream after all!” he says as he walks toward the kitchen. “Go sit! I’ll grab the takeout leftovers.”

Laughing, Grian takes his shoes off and heads over into their living room. He finds Jellie there, playing with something caught between her paws. He fondly shakes his head at her, “What do you have now, miss?”

Jellie looks up at him with a meow as she swats at whatever it is she’s deemed her new toy, chasing at it. However, said mystery object knocks into Grian’s foot, and he gets it first.

Leaning down, Grian picks up what appears to be a rose gold ring. He inspects it in his hand, eyebrows knit together as he does. “Where did this come from?” He blinks at it, looking down at Jellie. “Did you rob someone?”

Jellie sits in front of him, slowly blinking. The perfect picture of innocence.

Shaking his head with a faint laugh, Grian looks at the ring again. His heart skips a beat as he really takes in the detail of it. He certainly didn’t buy it. Did Scar? And if he did then….

Heart a little louder, he turns to his boyfriend. “Hey, Scar?”

“Yes, love of my life?”

“Any clue what this is?”

Scar walks into the living room, the soft crackles of a furnace behind him. He pauses when he notices what Grian is holding in his hand. His eyes go wide, looking a little pale. To the side of Grian, he spots the movement of Jellie’s tail, and looks directly at her. “Traitor,” he mutters.

“Scar?” Grian questions, confused and… maybe a bit nervous.

“Haha uh… any chance we can forget this all happened and revisit it like. Next month?” Scar weakly chuckles, the epitome of nerves as he looks at Grian.

“What’s going on?” Grian’s brows furrow in confusion, a bit of concern leaking into his expression.

Scar knows trying to lie about it is practically pointless. Grian is too curious and too stubborn to let it go. And now that he’s seen the ring… Scar takes in a shaky breath. “Void, alright. Guess we’re doing this.”

He walks over to Grian, “May I?” He gestures for the ring, and Grian slowly nods. He hands the ring over to Scar, who accepts it with shaking hands. “Okay.” Scar sucks in a breath, unbelieving that he’s really doing this right now.

Slowly, Scar drops down on one knee in front of Grian, watching the way the other’s eyes go wide. But something about the position doesn’t feel quite right. Brows furrowing, Scar sets his other knee on the carpet below. “G? Mind kneeling with me here?” he asks, to which Grian nods. He joins Scar on the carpet, kneeling with him as well. “Much better,” he hums, pleased.

“Scar what?” Grian questions, lost and confused, and goodness his heart is beating so fast.

“I uh, I had a whole thing planned out, but Jellie seems to have thrown a wrench into all that,” Scar chuckles. “But it’s fine! I can improvise, who needs a plan?” He does. He needs a plan. Shaking his head, Scar reaches for one of Grian’s hands, grasping it in his own. He takes a measured breath, and begins to speak.

“I love you. More than words will ever be able to describe, G. You’ve done so much for me, more than I think I’ll ever be able to thank you for. You found me on the street, and despite being scammed by me, you still offered me a roof to live under, and a home to heal in.” Grian’s eyes are focused on him, listening with rapt attention. His gaze only worsens Scar’s nerves, heart beating a mile a minute. “You’re stubborn and witty, and sometimes you steal the blanket from me.”

Grian laughs.

Scar loves the sound.

“You don’t let me wallow in self pity, or memories of the harder times. You’re endlessly kind to both myself and Jellie, and everyone around you, even if your patience runs a little thin and you get snippy. We may get into a minor disagreement here and there, but you always come back around to me.” Scar smiles softly at him, so painfully fond and loving. “Back on that world… I never thought I would get to live life again. Or even enjoy the night sky without being afraid. It felt like a part of me was always missing, but I found that part with you.”

“Scar…” Grian trails off, face going red.

“G, you’re my home, my light. I want to spend every day waking up next to you and messing up pancake batter with you,” Scar laughs, the sound wet and shaky. Grian laughs with him, sounding just as affected. “I want to hold you on your bad days, and on your good ones. I want to be there through everything, for the rest of our lives. You’ve reminded me what it’s like to live and love, what it’s like to be me. There’s no one else for me, my heart and souls are yours.”

Scar swallows, holding the ring out to him. “So… will you entangle your life with mine forever? And marry me?” His expression turns bashful as he asks, and Grian is red in the face.

“You…” he trails off, amazed and in disbelief all at once. He looks between Scar and the ring, and he shakes his head. “I’ve been trying for days to find the perfect way of proposing to you, and you go and pull the rug right out from under me,” he laughs. “Curse how perfect you are sometimes.”

“C’mon G, you’re really leaving me hanging here!” Scar whines at him, making Grian laugh all over again.

Grian wraps his arms around Scar’s shoulders, pressing their lips together. “Yes, you spoon. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

If their neighbors hear how loudly Scar yells, well… it’s a warm congratulations to the newly engaged couple.

Jellie watches her humans cry in each others arms, tail flicking lazily at her side. She better get extra treats for this.

(It’s only later, when they’re sitting on the couch, curled into each other, that Scar realizes what Grian said. He turns to him, “Wait, you were planning to propose too?”

Grian snorts with laughter, “Hadn’t even picked out a ring, but yes Scar, I was.”)