#the new issue really just awoke something inside me

[thelittlepetfan]

Duo may have just been a disguise but i'mma miss seeing them 💔

feels very unlikely they’ll come back

here some lazy panel edits cause i love them~ 💖

For fun here’s this one but with red mimic cause of the concept art sort of-

and a “what if"/“AU” cause i'm lame-

[ragingphantom666]

Gwen Stacy: Spider-Woman (Vol. 1) Issue #2

Gwen Stacy and her roommate Anya Corazón had the same day off. They decided to play the online game Timely Rivals. The last few years, they were good friends and tried to spend time together when scheduling permitted.

“Why are we playing this again?” Gwen asked.

“Because you like John Steele.”

As they played, Gwen’s phone buzzed. She paused and flipped it over. The caller was Ezekiel Sims. She was visibly confused.

“Who’s that?” Anya asked.

“An old friend. I have to take this.�� She takes the phone into her bedroom and answers. “Mister Sims?”

“Miss Stacy,” he replied. “I need you to come to the lab.”

“Really? Is this an emergency?”

“You were requested by our unusual guest.”

She sighed. “What?”

“Just come and come dressed in your suit.”

“Fine.”

Gwen felt bad leaving like this, as she had not had much time for her friends lately, but she knew Ezekiel Sims, and he would not ask her to come unless it was necessary. She packed her costume, told Anya she had to go see her dad, and headed to see Ezekiel Sims.

They had met years ago when she was twenty years old. In a taxi with her then-boyfriend crossing the George Washington Bridge, the villainous Green Goblin appeared and started blowing up cars. Her boyfriend left her alone. She got to see Spider-Man battle the green menace, but a stray bomb blew up and flipped the car off the bridge. When it hit the ground, everything went dark.

Hours later, Gwen awoke from a coma in intensive care. It seemed impossible that she had survived. Ezekiel Sims visited her and informed her that he found her during the battle and used an experimental serum to save her life. This serum helped her heal faster, but also gave her powers like Spider-Man. Ezekiel trained her but left her alone once she had mastered her abilities. While he checked in on her occasionally to make sure there were no unfortunate side effects, they would go months without talking.

In the present, she arrives at Sims Labs in her Spider-Woman persona. Security gives her directions. She must take an elevator to the underground levels, where there is more secure containment. Whatever Ezekiel is doing has to be dangerous.

The lab was remarkably ordinary, a real letdown for Gwen. Ezekiel stood behind a scientist on a computer. She walked to them. Their focus was on a large spider in transparent containment in the center of the room.

“Did you bring me here to see the world’s most dangerous spider?” She asked sarcastically.

“In a way, yes,” Ezekiel responded. “Meet the last lingering fragment of Carl King, better known as The Thousand.”

“That teenage bully that turned into a colony of spiders that ate people?”

“The very same.”

“I thought he died?”

“Most of him did, but this part remained.”

“How did you one villainous spider in New York City?”

“The internet is full of crazy stories, but one of a spider writing words in a web at a hospital caught my eye.”

“And I’m assuming he’s the one who asked for me?”

“You’d be correct.”

“So… can he speak or is someone here a spider whisperer?”

“A colleague, Doctor Donald Josten, modified the designs of Henry Pym’s EMP communication device so that he could talk to spiders. I’m using it to converse with Mister King.”

“What does he want to say to me?”

“Take a look.”

She stood next to Ezekiel behind the computer screen. The spider turned towards them and she could feel its eyes staring at her. Text appeared on the screen that read, “Have you felt it?”

“What is it talking about?” asked Ezekiel.

“I don’t know exactly.”

More text appeared. “She has been calling for us. Some lady with a sexy voice. She wants us. Let me out.”

“After all the things you did? No.”

“She is coming. I can feel it. And you know it.”

Deep down, Gwen could feel something. It was a pull and it scared her.

Meanwhile, three black SUVs pulled up to the building. Strange women in black tactical clothing and black and yellow face paint headed inside. Security tried to stop them, but they knew martial arts and easily knocked them out. They cut the alarm and held hostages.

“I will kill the carrier,” the leader informed her followers. “Remain here until I have finished our mission.”

“Yes, Sister Spider-Wasp.”

The leader opened the elevator doors and dropped down the shaft. Next, she cut a hole in the top of the elevator. She was on the same floor as Spider-Woman and Ezekiel Sims. Soon, she found the lab.

“Um, Mister Sims, who is that?” Gwen asked pointing to the face-painted woman approaching the Carl King spider with a look of intent.

“Now I will finish our mission,” Spider-Wasp said to herself.

Short blades extended from her wrist gauntlets and pierced through the spider’s clear containment like it was made of butter. The creature moved out of the way. She ripped the top off and was about to smash the arachnid, but had to use the container instead to block Gwen’s webbing.

“I don’t know what your beef is, but we use our words here.”

“Another insolent spider.”

Gwen ran at the adversary. Each punch she threw was dodged, but Spider-Wasp’s blows were faster. She tried to block, but this new enemy found a way to weaken her guard. Her strength was almost on par with Gwen’s. How could this be?

While this scuffle was going on, the Carl King spider was attempting an escape. It crawled toward a sink. A lab technician tried to grab it, but they were bitten and injected with its paralyzing venom. Another tried to trap it under a beaker, but it jumped and bit them too. It was close now.

“Spider-Woman!” Ezekiel shouted. “Get the spider!”

Gwen tried to grab him, but when she got close she felt her muscles stiffen. She was paralyzed like a statue. All she could do was watch as the spider crawled down the drain. The vision of Adriana Soria sat on a nearby desk.

“You fight the inevitable, my spider,” she said seductively. She delicately stroked Gwen’s chin, and the spider-themed vigilante could feel it. “You cannot change what is to come  and you be my champion in the new world.”

Ezekiel grabbed Gwen’s shoulder and she fell to her knees. Adriana was gone. She took deep breaths.

“What happened?” He asked.

“Someone was in my mind.” She got help from Ezekiel to stand. “Where is that Assassin’s Creed cosplayer?”

“She left after Mister King escaped. I have something to show you.”

He took her to the computer screen used to translate for Carl King. It had recorded everything Adriana had said to Gwen. Her eyes widened and she looked at Ezekiel.

“What is going on?”

In the sewers, the Carl King spider crawled out of a pipe. A gray hand reached down with the palm up. When it crawled into her hands, she lifted it to her face and smiled. Her eyes were pitch black.

“We have plans for you.”

[itsblasttothepast]

I listen to sad song on a general rule but of course I can find something fluffy just for them xD Like The Good I'll Do by Zach Bryan (it's country but it's lovely)

It's entarily form Sergio's perspective this time

"Well, in you/The good I'll do/The good I'll do, oh/The good I'll do"

Sergio went to RBR with a clear mission and he was ready to fulfill it no matter what - and he did, they managed to get WDC for Max, they managed to reach WCC for the team and he got podiums for himself, wins on the best track etc. And he did it all that alongside Max and I think he knows that being the teammate of the best pushed him to achive the results.

"The way the grass smells at night/And you've got flames all in your eyes/As they reflect the sparkler" Max was really passionate about racing and all he does and I think Sergio likes him for it, likes the way Max is willing to fight no matter what and does so with determination. I doubt it's possible to not get excited about what's coming with such a person beside you and I know for a fact Checo always believed in Max and his skills. "And you say we'll never die/Grab me by the hands/Just as callused as I am/Say you're proud" The way Max was defending Checo in front of the media must've meant something to Sergio, like, Max could easily say it's not his problem or stay silent but he said multiple times it's the car (just as Sergio has been saying) and he never said a bad word about him. He also called him his best teammate and that is just the highest praise you can get from a WDC I suppose. The car is shit, but they are in the mess together and it must feel nice for Sergio to have a teammate who cares (since his last one was Kamui).

"Well, there's blue jeans in the driveway/And you're walking inside sideways/The wine always affects you in beautiful kind ways/Ask me if I'm staying and I say that I'm sleeping on the floor"

Sergio must be tired from all the bs RBR did to him, to the car, with all the nonsense Helmut and Horner say and the hate and so on and on but he said he is happy where he is - and in my head Max is one of the reasons why he thinks so. Checo always loved all his teams a bit too much to be healthy and RBR is using that against him but this time Max is on his side and they do have a good time together, even if people say it's PR, I think they are teribble actors and they wouldn't be able to pretend for this long (sorry guys). So even if the season and everything about it is messy and awful at least they can have small moments of fun - so yeah, Sergio is staying in RBR because Max said he wants him there and because he got attached to the blonde chatterbox, no matter how the team treats him.

"Won't you tell me that you need me/'Cause lately I've been needing someone to remind me/I'm worth more than just an evening/I awoke to kitchen smoke, you dancin' like God's moved in you before"

Max is getting back on track with the car and Sergio is still being the focus of all the negativity and I guess seeing him on podium would be a small consolation for all the pain but at least one of them is happy (or at least less miserable). And hey, now Max won't lose his WDC and Sergio won't get blamed for that too so it's good, right? I think Max saying positive things about him is a small bust of confidence. RBR might make him feel like an worthless person but at least his teammate doesn't think so.

"Well, in you/I'm new/I'm new/Oh, how I'm new"

This is self explanatory with Sergio's 'no fucks given' attitude - I do think Max helped him get out of the 'if I'm quiet they will stop' mentality and lead him to be more open about the issues - even if RBR hates him for it.

"Getting high out in Austin/Drunk in Tennessee/I don't care where I am/As long as you're with me/Those boys downtown talk so much shit when I leave"

All the rumours and all the traveling away from home, all the fake smiles and broken promises and yet, Sergio and Max keep on trying to make the most of it, with each other - because they are The Dancing Bulls, they are the 'best duo RB ever had' - They are what they are but they make it work.

Ah, song headcanon anon, I'm the same. I love the sad songs, they have something alluring that makes me love the angst! (this is probably a consequence of growing up watching Telenovelas).

I'm not a fan of country music generally, but I heard 'You give me love' by Faith Hill, and now I give a chance to every country song someone recommends... and this time it's another hit! Such a cute song!

This year honestly changed my perspective on Chestappen, so many things going around, and they had to face them together, finally as a team. I feel Horner and Marko keep getting in the way, like wanting to break them apart.

This song made me think, like you said, maybe he are seeing a new Checo, rising from the ashes! I think Max is also finding his place, now that everything is kind of crumbling around them.

Anon, what do you think of the Chestappen content this week? The booth, the arcade games... any songs come to mind?

[lockandk3yfiction]

Petals Of A Broken Heart

Title: Petals of A Broken Heart Pairing: Otabek Altin; Yuri Plisetsky Characters: Otabek Altin; Yuri Plisetsky Series: Yuri! On Ice  Rating: T  Word Count: 718

Tags / Content Warnings: Hanahaki Disease; Blood; Unrequited Love; Unresolved Issues; Angst w/o Happy Ending A/N: This story includes mention of blood and detailed vomiting. Summary: He lay with his heart bare in a pile of petals, painted red in blood. Otabeks throat ached as he rasped for breath. Prompt: Rose Petals + Otayuri

Read on AO3

He lay with his heart bare in a pile of petals, painted red in blood. Otabeks throat ached as he rasped for breath. Faintly could he hear the cheers from the television, the squeal of hopeless fans that still somehow held more faith in their princely fairy as he skittered across the ice. Still could they stare at Yuri’s face in awe, witness the fierce intensity of his focused stare without coughing up flowers.

Slowly lolling his head to the side, Otabek watched as the camera’s zoomed in on Yuri’s form once more. Following along with every triple axel and leap into the air, the grip inside Otabeks chest tightened. He swallowed dryly, a prickled tear slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“Yuri…” Otabek gasped, weakly reaching his hand out as the blond finished his choreograph.

Otabek’s vision spotted, Yuri’s victorious smile engulfing the screen before Otabek slipped into unconsciousness.

Otabek later awoke to the sound of ringing, a buzz in his pocket. Checking his surroundings with bleary eyes, Otabek registered that the light outside the window had darkened significantly. The ice program was no longer on and the ringing in his ears insistent for attention.

“Erm, hello.” Otabek coughed between his words, bringing the phone up to his ear.

“Otabek!” Yuri exclaimed. “You’re not going to believe this bullshit!”

“Hm?” Sluggishly Otabek crawled into a sitting position with his back to the couch.

“JJ-”

Otabek rubbed the palm of his hand against his eye, frowning at the bloody saliva that  stuck to his skin.

“- that bastard! He stole the gold from me!”

“Oh..” Otabek used the inside of his shirt collar to wipe off his face.

“Oh?” Yuri’s voice softened. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just…” Otabek trailed off, eyes still wet from hacking up earlier. It hurt to breathe, throat clogged up and his stomach lurching with every exhale. “I just - I don’t feel well.”

“Are you sick?”

“I guess that’s it.” Otabek wished it wasn’t so.

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah.” Otabek shut his wet eyes, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You really shouldn’t be sick on Valentine’s Day. Is someone there with you?”

“No.”

“I wish I were.”

Sudden bile built up inside of Otabek, unwilling to be held hostage by his tight lips. Nearly bending forward in half, Otabek dropped his phone, a fresh new pile of rose petals hurling out of his mouth. Otabek gagged, clenched his fist, and suffered. He suffered through the pain, the heartache, the muffled worried cries of his friend who called his name.

“Otabek! Otabek, are you okay!?”

Globs of spit connected Otabeks lips to the already ruined floor. Pressing his forehead down into the mess, Otabek groaned. The pain grew excruciatingly difficult to contain.

“Otabek!”

“I’m al-alright…” It was a blatant lie.

Gasping for air, Otabek let out the meal he’d been struggling to hold down all day. Vomiting out his feelings in a way he didn’t know possible.

“I’m - I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not. Hold on, I’m -'' There was a clicking noise on the other side of the phone. “I’m booking a flight. I’m gonna be there as soon as I can, okay.”

“No.”

“This isn’t a discussion.”

“Yuri, please.” Otabek’s lips let out a pitiful whimper.

“Otabek.”

“Mm…”

“I’m going and that’s final.”

“The Grand Prix -”

“Doesn’t start for another two weeks. You need someone there now, Otabek.” Yuri’s words were final.

This time Otabek didn’t try to argue; he didn’t have the strength to.

“I’m so tired…” He whispered.

“Get your rest.” Yuri whispered back just as quietly. Something on the other line pinged. “I’ll be there early tomorrow.”

“Hm,” Otabek nodded his head into the floorboards.

“Do you,” Yuri stuttered on a sigh, “want me to stay on the line?”

Otabek melted into the ground, breathing shallowly. “Yeah…”

Tomorrow there’ll be a crick in his neck. Tomorrow a blond will come banging on his door, yelling in his ear. Likely Otabek will only hurt more. Tonight though he needed a soft moment.

Yuri placatingly murmured in Otabek’s ear, a reserved tone not often used before. The blond dotted on him from overseas, lulled the thorns around Otabeks chest to loosen the slightest bit.

In the back of his mind, Otabek knew he should clean up but he was just so…

tired.

[mrs-march-ahs]

Kai Impregnating You As a Punishment

Summary- When Kai finds out you’re planning to avoid pregnancy behind his back, he acts immediately to make sure his plan for a new and better future isn’t ruined.

Warnings- Dub-con (I think), breeding/impregnating, car sex, unprotected sex, sexual punishment, daddy kink, arousal from crying, Kai Anderson. Words- 1.6k

This was a left over idea from Kai Week that I had planned based on a request, and I wanted to do it! Returning to car sex, fun! :D

Enjoy<3

--

“What is it Y/N?”, Kai forcefully asks.

“No honestly nothing”. You try your best to lie, but Kai always knew when you were nervous or worried. He also knew when you were keeping secrets from him, which is why right now you were completely screwed. Kai often looks through your belongings and does regular pinky power meetings to ensure that he knows absolutely everything about you. You know how some people say a little mystery is good in a relationship? He was certainly not one of those people.

With you now moved into Kai’s parent’s house with him and Winter, there is no place for you to hide your belongings. Not that you need to, usually. But sometimes when you get him a gift or have something to hide temporarily, you put it in your car, knowing he wont think to search it. But what you were hiding was no gift, but a stab in the chest.

He started being suspicious right away, when he walked past your car to get to his and your heart started pounding. He must’ve heard your heart almost escaping your chest and he instantly knew there was a reason you’d prefer to drive in his car instead of yours.

Kai sits in the passenger seat of your car, letting you drive for once, and stares at you as you start up the car, pretending nothing’s happening.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

You look at Kai and shake your head timidly, but try to look and sound confident.

“No honestly I’m not hiding anything”

You mentally slap yourself the second those words come out of your mouth, revealing drips of information to Kai, knowing he’ll keep going after the truth no matter the cost. You look in front of you and put your foot on the acceleration for just a second, before Kai snaps at you to stop.

“Stop. Get in the back”. He unbuckles his seatbelt and puts his foot to the side, ready to climb in the back, but stops when he looks at you frozen.

“Kai’s there’s nothin-”

“Now Y/N”, he yells, making you flinch, and hops into the back middle seat. You quickly unbuckle your own seatbelt and follow him, wanting to sit by his side but instead being immediately bend in half over his lap. Kai grabs your face forcefully.

“Since you’re having so much trouble being honest with me”. Kai pulls your jaw down.

“I’ll help you spit it out”. With that warning said, Kai shoves two fingers deep in your mouth, making your lips wrap around the cold metal ring on his middle finger. After one quick thrust to the back of your throat, he takes his fingers out when you gag and keeps them on your chin.

“Are we gonna speak yet?”. You take a few deep breaths, taken back by his sudden, and new, actions.

“Kai everything’s fi-”

Not even letting you finish your words, he plunges his fingers back in your mouth, or throat, rather, and keeps them there for a few seconds. Your eyes begin to water as you accept your fate, knowing that Kai has a thousand different ways to get things out of you, and you must accept whatever punishment you get for making decisions behind his back.

“When I take my fingers out, you’re gonna tell me”. You cry out in response and he pulls his fingers out, holding your face and twisting it to look at him. He raises his eyebrow at you, making you speak.

“Glove compartment”, you manage to choke out, still slightly shaken from the brutal throat invasion. Kai pushes you off his lap, making you squish on the floor of the car, not daring to get up on the seat if Kai doesn’t want it. He stands up and leans towards the front of the car, opening the glove compartment and shoving out all documents in there onto the floor and seat, without a single care in the world. He rummages through your things, noticing your driving license and car documents, nothing too suspicious, before looking at a small green pharmacy prescription. He takes it and plops back down in the middle seat, reading it closely. Your stomach churns and your previous tears return as you’re torn between looking away from Kai, scared to make eye contact, and not wanting to peel your eyes off him to know his reaction. After a few seconds of angry reading, he rips the paper up and throws it around like confetti. Without even an angry word, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you up on the back seats, laying you down. He climbs over you, and watches your tears fall closely, completely captivated and aroused at the sight of you in distress.

“Oh, so you don’t want to get pregnant?”, he barks in your face, enjoying the way you flinch every time. ���You don’t want to make a Messiah? And contribute to the fucking cause? You want to be useless?!”, he yells. You’re left under him, whimpering at his harsh words and shaking your head manically, hoping to make your situation better in any way you can. Even if it meant you had to agree with him.

Kai clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath before speaking again, calmer this time.

“Have you taken any contraceptives yet?”. You immediately shake your head no, and try to blink all of your tears away. Kai whips his belt open and unzips his pants.

“I just got a prescription to buy them… I hadn’t even got them yet”, you whimper out quietly, not sure whether more details will make him calmer or even angrier. He lowers his pants before grabbing your legs and pulling you closer to him, and undoing yours silently and ripping them off. Crying always awoke something inside of Kai, but this was different, like a mixture of a punishment for you and a treat for him.

He leaned down and moved your head to the side, attaching himself to your neck and sucking on it harshly. Although the rough side of Kai scared you beyond words, his tough love still made you feel special, and him sucking hickeys on your neck, no matter how unaffectionately, made you feel like he was marking you as his. Therefore, he must’ve cared about you, even if he chose to show it in an unusual way.

He puts his arms on either side of your head, towering over you, making you feel both intimidated and protected by him, before sliding your underwear to the side. He pushes himself against your crotch and groans in your neck.

“This… this is really special”. He groans, as he lines up with you, putting his tip inside of you without warning.

“Daddy’s never done this with anybody”. A rush of arousal runs through your body as a strong reaction to the new nickname. Kai wasn’t new to nicknames, Sir, Divine Ruler, even Master. But he never called himself daddy, and he could feel the affect it had on you immediately, as he slid in you with ease. Although he pushes in slowly, the charade of softness and love quickly fades away as he slithers his cold hand under your shirt and grabs your boob, kneading it and squeezing it in his hand.

You gasp at the action, making Kai smile and kiss you, just once. He continues to talk to you with his lewd words as he begins to thrust. You submit yourself completely to him, wrapping your legs around his waist, and your arms around his chest, bringing him as close as possible to you so you can feel his warmth. He gracefully accepts your invite and puts his chest to yours, still with a tight grasp on your boob, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

“Daddy’s gonna massage them so much when they’re all full of milk”, he whispers in your ear. You open your eyes and look at Kai with a blank expression, expecting an explanation to the weird statement, but he doesn’t provide one. Instead, he looks at you with a smirk and speeds up, keeping up the pace of the thrust and the roughness of his touch on you equal. Involuntarily you gulp, accepting the very appropriate punishment.

“God, I haven’t masturbated in- oh fuck… - in days… this is perfect”, he speeds up his thrusts, and closes his eyes, no longer caring about watching you tear up or orgasm. His sole focus shifts to fucking you as deep as possible, and ensuring he can empty as much of his balls as possible, filling you up to the brim. To guarantee your Messiah.

The new pace makes you clench, and panting and gasping as he fucks you restlessly, going deeper than ever before. He pulls your legs up higher and folds you in half, so he can fit his whole cock in, hitting your cervix with every single thrust. Just as the grip on your legs gets tighter and his moans get louder, you’re overcome with pleasure, your first orgasm coming over you and completely distracting you from how uncomfortable of a position you are in. The feeling of you clenching and cumming around him brings Kai over the edge, settling in the first load of the night deep inside of you.

Kai groans as he cums and rests with his cock deep in you, and you wrap your arms back around him and try to pull him closer for a quick kiss before he pulls out. But instead, after a few stationary seconds, he puts his leg on the ground and thrusts again, at a different angle. You whimper at the sensitivity and as does Kai, but he doesn’t hault and instead looks down at you cockily.

“I hope you’re not tired yet, there’s many more where that came from”

--

taglist, dm or comment to be added or taken away, it’s no issue to me:)

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[ladyvesuvia]

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@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A 🎠 -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration

Prompts:

9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

32. “Make a wish!”

42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!

A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad

After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.

“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.

“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”

“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”

“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”

“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”

“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.

All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”

“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”

“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?

“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”

“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.

“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.

“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”

“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.

“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”

“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.

“I thought our room was upstairs?”

“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”

“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.

“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.

“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”

“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.

A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.

“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”

“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.

“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”

Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.

[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.

“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”

It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”

Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”

“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po—Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.

“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.

“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.

“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”

When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.

“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”

“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”

“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”

After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.

“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.

“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.

A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”

“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”

“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.

“Okay, where’s my wand?“

[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”

“Eh.”

“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”

“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.

Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”

“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.

“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”

And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.

Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.

The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”

“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”

“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”

He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?

Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.

It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.

Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.

[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.

[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”

“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.

“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].

“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”

“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”

“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”

“So it is a Treacle Tart?”

“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”

“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.

“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”

“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”

“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.

“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”

“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”

“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.

“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.

“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”

Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”

“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].

“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.

Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.

“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”

“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.

“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.

“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.

“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”

[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”

“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”

“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.

“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.

“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”

“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”

“So you delivered?”

“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.

“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”

When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”

“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.

“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].

Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”

“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”

“You mean home?”

“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @mrzweasley @gwlvr @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @greenlyblue @henqtic @meiitanoia @badass-yn @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[shemarmooresfedora]

HI!!

I’m so happy for you to have hit 200 and now 300 followers!! You deserve a gold star ⭐️

I was looking at the prompts I think 4, 6, 12 sound good!! Again, I’m super happy that at your follower count. You’re a great writer and I can’t wait to see wait else you come up with 💕

You Don’t Ever Have to Hide From Me

Summary: You and Spencer are forced to share a hotel room but insecurities get the best of you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: internal angst due to body image issues, fluffy ending!

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: why did i just write and edit this whole thing to avoid editing my other WIP which would have taken me less time. i just have been feeling in a bit of a rut lately so i needed some good old-fashioned spencer reassurance. prompt requests close tomorrow at 5 pm EST

Masterlist

Hotch came back from the receptionist’s desk, “We’re going to have to double up on rooms. They’re a little short.”

JJ and Emily paired off together immediately to no one’s surprise.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid,” Derek shook his head.

“Alright, Morgan, you’re with me,” Hotch stated, handing the last card to Spencer, “Sorry, they only have a king room, not twins.”

You groaned internally, flashing Spencer an awkward grin that he returned with his classic tight-lipped smile.

You had nothing against Reid, in fact, you would go out on a limb to say that you would call him your friend rather than coworker. But, all you wanted was to relax and let sleep take over you and now you would be up all night, afraid of snoring or anything else you could do to possibly embarrass yourself in front of your newly-budding crush.

You and Spencer rode the elevator up to the second floor in complete silence. Spencer slipped the key card into the slot on the door and pushed it open as it blinked green. He gestured for you to enter first because he was always such a gentleman.

“You can take a shower first if you want,” you offered to diffuse some of the awkward tension.

“Okay, thanks,” Spencer collected his change of clothes and headed into the bathroom.

As you gathered your belongings, you fell onto the bed in exasperation when you realized you only packed a cotton bralette and PJ shorts to wear to bed because you hadn’t been expecting to share a room at all let alone with Spencer.

“All yours,” Spencer smiled softly as he exited the bathroom, ruffling a towel through his curly locks to dry them.

“Thanks,” you murmured, reluctantly grabbing the skimpy clothing and heading into the bathroom.

Spencer was reading with only the nightstand lamp on when you finished your shower. You exited the bathroom with your dirty clothes balled up in front of you to hide your bare torso.

You crawled into bed on the opposite side of Spencer, putting as much space between you as possible. You were practically falling off the edge of the bed in an attempt to keep your distance.

You cleared your throat, “I’m putting a pillow between us. Under no circumstances do you cross it, okay?”

You took one of the extra pillows on your side and placed it right in the middle of the bed.

“Understood,” Spencer nodded, clicking off the lamp, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Spencer.”

-

You awoke to the feeling of arms wrapped around you. You could feel Spencer’s soft, even breaths against your neck. But then you felt his hands touching your exposed stomach. You cringed as the insecurities bubbled up.

You leapt up from the bed which startled Spencer awake. Your arms were crossed tightly around your front to shield Spencer from seeing any more of your body in the morning light.

“I-I told you not to cross the pillow,” you spoke softly.

Spencer noticed he had gravitated to your side of the bed throughout the night.

“Y/N, I am so so sorry. I swear I was asleep, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all. I’ll sleep on the floor tomorrow night,” Spencer sputtered.

“Don’t bother, okay? Just forget it. I can take the floor or hopefully a new room will open up by then,” you gave him a small smile to show you weren’t mad and grabbed your bag, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

-

You sighed, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror the following night. No new rooms opened up and you didn’t ask to switch with anyone because you didn’t want to cause a fuss. You also didn’t want Spencer feeling bad because you knew he hadn’t meant to do it on purpose.

You had practically begged Derek to lend you his biggest sweatshirt for the night. When he asked for a reason, you just shrugged, muttering something about the air conditioning in your room being broken and he gave it to you.

Spencer was reading once again with the lamp on when you exited the bathroom, much more covered this time.

Spencer immediately stood when he heard the door open.

“I already made a bed on the floor for me. I was just using your bed to be close to the lamp while you were in there,” Spencer quickly explained, getting himself situated on the floor.

“Spencer, I really don’t mind taking the floor,” you said.

“I was the one who crossed the boundaries, Y/N. I am taking the floor, I should have taken it the first night too. I’m so sorry I made you uncomfortable,” Spencer stated.

“It’s okay, Spencer. Night,” you yawned.

“Night, Y/N,” he sighed.

Spencer heard your breathing even out but he couldn’t go to sleep.

It all made sense now. You got upset when he cuddled with you last night, rightfully so, but he couldn’t figure out why until now. You and Derek must have a thing. Why else would you be wearing Derek’s sweatshirt? You were trying to send a message to him.

Spencer rolled over and eventually fell into a restless sleep at the thought of his crush liking Derek.

-

“Just so you know, Derek’s a good guy even though he may put on a bit of a ‘player’ act,” Spencer stated to you as you were packing your bags.

The case had wrapped so you were heading home on the jet soon. You could finally have a room to yourself, not that Spencer wasn’t great company but it was just nerve-wracking to be constantly over-analyzing your every move when with your crush.

“Um okay?” you zipped up your suitcase and set it by the door.

“Is it serious or is it more of a casual thing? When did it first start? You guys should probably fill out the HR paperwork to cover the team from any liabilities,” he began to ramble.

“Spencer-”

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. I don’t really have anyone to tell anyways besides you and Morgan but obviously you two already know-”

“God, can you just listen to me for a second?”

This caused Spencer to close his mouth.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I figured I should save you the breath. Morgan and I aren’t dating, seeing each other, or in any sort of romantic relationship,” you stated.

“But you were wearing his sweatshirt last night?” Spencer’s brow furrowed.

You pursed your lips and closed your eyes, “I’m not exactly the most comfortable in my body...especially around people I like.”

“Can I hug you?” Spencer asked softly.

You nodded and you felt yourself being enclosed in his warm embrace.

“You don’t ever have to hide from me, Y/N. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever and will ever lay my eyes on, inside and out,” Spencer whispered in your ear.

“And I like you too,” he added, “Not that you need them but if you’re going to be borrowing anyone’s clothes, they’re going to be mine,” he smiled.

“Good to know because I’ve had my eyes on that purple sweater of yours for a while,” you grinned.

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

[generalfoolish]

Could I request a soulmate fic from your list? Either 8 with Loki or 29 with Bucky (like maybe the soulmate is his mission but he can't do it or something and it ends fluffy?)

Don't mind about gender.

Inner Workings

Pairing: Loki x gn!Reader Series: Soulmate AUs Soulmate Prompt: The voice inside your head, your inner monologue, is in the voice of your soulmate

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Hey babe! I love Loki for this one! (I'm not brave enough for Bucky yet, but I love the idea of him fighting against his training and not doing the mission for his soulmate 😭) This is a request from I've been working through the Soulmate Prompts! Sorry it took a minute to get out, I struggled with world building a bit this time and then it got away from me. Hope you enjoy 💕

Masterlist Join the Foolish Taglist!

"Sure thing, sir. We'll get the new one sent over right away." You rolled your eyes as you hung up your phone.

Imbecile. Utter moron. Surely, there are better uses for your immense talent? Something other than listening to idiots droll on about their supposed issues.

You clicked onto the job search page, stifling a grin at your inner monologue. Ever since you could remember that lilting and coy English accent was reminding you to take no shit. If it wasn't for your constant inner voice telling you to grow a spine, you were certain you'd disappear altogether.

You clicked your pen absentmindedly while waiting for the searches to load. You wouldn't really leave your job, but it never hurts to look.

You should, without a doubt, leave this job. The work is mind-numbing, and I would know.

It had been strange at first, a British male in your ear, urging you to act out mischievously. But you'd accepted it in time, and you often surprised yourself with what you were really thinking.

You turned your focus back to the computer screen and glanced through the titles. Nothing much stood out, but as you were about to click off and do your actual job you noticed a quite high paying offer.

What're you waiting for? Click on it.

A job experience working with Stark Industries, which offered much more than your current employer. Renewable energy, climate change research, environmental management, and the list went on. You were more than qualified, having studied environmental and biological sciences at university, but Stark Industries? That was a long shot.

Apply for it, you oaf. You're burdened with glorious purpose, would you waste it here? Would you waste your limitless talent here amongst those who would see you fail?

You wondered for a moment before clicking further into the application. You'd try for it, not that you were expecting a miracle.

You finished the day and started your long trek home. You turned on a podcast to tune your thoughts out. For once, your inner turmoil and thoughts seemed at odds with one another, and it unsettled you in a way you'd never experienced before. You felt split in two, mind and soul ripped apart from within.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, you had the worst migraine of your life. All you could do was lay in bed with a washrag over your face and hope you didn't puke.

You fell asleep like that, praying for death with your damn consciousness telling you you deserved more than you were getting. That life had beaten you down, but you were destined for beautiful things.

You dreamt of a golden throne. When you sat upon it you were confined there by snakes. Millions descended upon you, choking you, and you awoke covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your migraine had faded to a full throb, but for once, it was quiet. You were alone with the implications of your dream. No sarcastic, accented voice in your ear telling you to do better, work harder. Just loneliness, and a new bitter feeling of emptiness.

There was an acrid taste in your mouth that pushed you to the kitchen of your small apartment. You plodded along, reaching for a glass to fill with the tap water that would leave a hint of burning chlorine behind.

"You've wanted to understand for so long, haven't you?" Your fingers tightened around the cup, and your skin crawled at the voice. A familiar rasp you’d never heard outside of your mind, a coying tone that carried with it the heat of your past failings, an unsubtle reminder that your grand plans had been wasted and unfulfilled.

Now, sitting in front of you, on your couch, was a real man who that voice belonged to. It was fitting, your own consciousness belonging to another, after you had reasoned that there was nothing quite as soul-sucking as your current dead-end job.

“You’re the voice in my head.” His voice, your voice, told you. You looked at him in the dim light of dawn, and you tried to steady your trembling hands. He was beautiful, transcendent even, highlighted by the glare of the moon. His skin was smooth and pale, marble-esque and ancient, not a far cry from the Pantheon statues of gods. He sat rigidly, uncomfortably, too big for the small space, too tall for the low couch. Yet, you knew him. Not from looks alone, though his narrowed green eyes seemed familiar in a way you could not name, and his lips reminded you of a memory you could not recall. It was in his countenance that you found yourself falling heavily into. The heavy set of his shoulders, under armor and gold, and the frown that rode his lips, drew you in further and showed you a relationship you could not comprehend.

“As I am the one in yours.” He said, reiterating a point you had missed while admiring him. In an instant, or an eternity, you woke up in your bed. The sun glaring through the window promised an over-snoozed alarm, and the rumbling of the city below outlined an impossible commute to work. Your dreams were mostly forgotten as you scrambled out of your sheets and to the closet. You’d skip the shower today, and regret it later.

When your phone buzzed on the nightstand your heart stuttered to a stop. Anxiety and a fear of confrontation paralyzed you. Eventually, the stress won out and you answered it breathlessly. The first words shut your brain down.

It was Stark Industries.

You got the job.

You started immediately.

You waited for the inner monologue to begin, for your constant companion and champion to tear this opportunity down, or lift you up. But, nothing came. Sure, your mind was flooded with thoughts, worries, and fears, but none of them fit that which you had come to expect. For once, you were filled with silence, and the emptiness echoed endlessly. The loss reverberated in your bones, you felt hollowed out and wrong. You might have dealt more easily with a loss of a limb.

~~

When you finally arrived in front of the Stark Tower, the door opened before you. A man took you, wordlessly, and led you to the elevator. He punched the number for floor 33, and stood stoically in his corner. You tried to minimize yourself. The quiet, stuffy air of the elevator was nearly impossible to breathe in. At once, you feared breathing too loudly, and appearing too meek. You tried to focus on slowing your breath, too quieten it, and look around. It was clear that Stark was a fan of open floor plans, because as the glass elevator raced higher your view of the entire tower was only getting better.

The floors crept up quickly, and when 33 was reached the doors opened abruptly. The reveal was breathtaking. It looked like what everyone imagined the future was going to look like back when the “future” held an idiosyncratic hold over the masses. Sleek, gunmetal silver accents, solid glass walls, open office spaces, and the ever-present, looming sense of real money growing in every corner.

The man from the lobby led you silently down the hall to the left. Behind every glass panel was something you wanted to see, something you were dying to know more about. If you weren’t struggling to keep up with the quick strides of your guide, then you might find yourself pressed against the glass trying to sneak a peek at the new tech.

Your escort stood beside the only closed off room on the entire floor, and you obediently knocked, before pushing the heavy door open.

“Hello?” You asked, shouldering the door open. The office was a stark contrast to the open labs before, heavy wooden bookshelves lined the space. Books spilled onto the floor, and covered the massive desk in the middle of the room. A man sat in the middle, nose down, reading quickly. He lifted his finger, and you closed the door behind you. The heavy thump and click coincided with a flourish of the man’s hand to the chair in front of the desk, but still his eyes remained trained on the book in front of him.

You took the seat, wordlessly, studying the man as he studied the words before him. His black hair fell to about his shoulders that was slicked back and curled at the ends. His skin was milk white, nearly translucent in the dimly lit room, the only light streaming in from in between the curtains over the window. His forehead was creased in thought, but his eyebrows pulled tightly across the span of skin leading to sharp, green eyes. Underneath thick eyelashes, you could see those eyes flitting across words, and occasionally, he would crinkle his sharply angled nose, pulling those dark eyebrows down further. He was bunched over the text, but he looked achingly familiar.

Finally, when you thought you might explode from anticipation, he looked up at you. Immediately, those emerald pools cut through you, and you recognized the stern expression. He had been the subject of your dream, and you almost laughed. How incredibly lucky, that you would have a weird dream about your new boss, a man you’d never seen, hours before being offered the job. You stifled the laugh, and any trace of embarrassment you were definitely feeling, and waited for him to speak.

You would finally be able to put this to bed. It was a fluke that you heard a man’s voice for so long, and now that you had a face to the voice, actually seeing someone without the familiar intonations would absolve you.

Except, the man didn’t speak straight away. In fact, he looked as confused as you felt. The air seemed to slip from the room, and he smoothed a hand down his hair, seemingly nervous.

“What are you doing here?” He asked finally, your stomach lurching in time to the syllables. Every word hit you square, and your heart beat heavily against your ribs. You knew that voice better than your own. When you couldn’t speak, when words died on your tongue, that voice was there. That voice had uplifted, admonished, and surged you into the person you were today. Now, sitting across from you, this new face spoke that voice again. Your tongue felt too big for your mouth, which was too dry.

“Who are you?” The man tried again, those dark eyebrows casting down and darkening the impossibly bright eyes beneath them. Still, your throat froze around any sound you could make. You sat still, dumbfounded and mute.

Your mind, though, raced with possibility. And as clear as ever, your voice was back to you, his voice, that voice.

What in god’s name is this? An All-Father trick? An illusion I’ve created? A cruel temptation, courtesy of Tony Stark?

You furrowed your own eyebrows. The voice was one you recognized, but the thoughts were new to you. Tempered, less emotional, tired.

“I just accepted a job at Stark Industries, and then I was led here. Are you my new boss?” You asked, a sudden wave of courage cresting through you. The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, before templing his fingers in front of him.

“Ahh, I see.” He told you, cryptically. “I am Loki, and you...you have some explaining to do.” You narrowed your eyes at this man, this Loki.

“I have no explaining to do. I am more than qualified for the position.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“Not about the position, of course you’re perfect for it. It was created for you.” Your mouth fell open with an audible click of your jaw. He raised a long and slender finger, asking without words for you to allow him to explain.

“I asked Stark to create the position, because I’ve been getting glimpses, moments, of a life for years. I’ve studied what it means, and I was able to manipulate the bond recently. You have haunted me for many years, you know.” You wrinkled your face in confusion. He was admitting something that seemed too incredulous to be true, and yet, you had had the same experience with him.

“I’ve known your voice for sometime.” You admitted, quietly, still processing. You searched his face, knowing instinctively that he was telling you the truth. “What does it mean, then?” You asked, looking into those deeply, sincere eyes. He smiled with half of his mouth, the tilted grin surprising you more than anything else, and he gestured around the room to the scattered and stacked tomes.

“I have no idea. I’ve spent years searching. I thought, perhaps, you were a witch. I thought you may have enchanted me. I spent some time learning all the abilities which could trigger such a thing between two strangers, and I have not learned a single thing. Even now, sitting across this desk, you are as strange to me as you are familiar.” His lopsided grin had leveled into a defeated line, a sullen thing.

“It’s like a bad rom-com.” You joked, half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood. He narrowed his eyes.

“Rom-com? Romantic comedy, a type of movie or story.” The veil seemed to lift.

“I haven’t spent much time on Earth, doing mortal things.” He nodded as he explained. You screwed up your face again, puzzled at his words. You realized what you’d missed before.

Loki, brother of Thor, almost invaded the world, an actual god.

“Is it something from your planet?” You asked, reeling from this new realization.

“Rom-coms are definitely a Mid-gardian invention.” He snarked, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. You glared at him for a moment, before shaking your head.

“No, this connection between us. It’s like some dumb trope in movies, soul mates? The idea is like you're destined to be with this person, or maybe you share a soul, or your soul was split, or something. I’m not super into that, but is there something like that where you’re from?” You asked, leaning forward on your knees. You hadn’t expected this as your first day at Stark Industries.

“Of Asgard?” He considered your words, and his face slackened. “There was hamingja, or luck. But differently than you might think. It can be passed through generations, and is the quality of your essence. Not quite a soul, nor a mate. But, what you’re saying may have truth to it. If our soul’s are mates, then what’s next?” He was animated now, clearing space on the desk, dropping heavy books to the floor. You shook your head.

“Loki, soul mates aren’t real. It’s a Hollywood idea of love, it’s all glitz. It sells the movie, but there isn’t truth to it.” You told him, settling back into your own chair. Clearly, he had been onto something when he was chasing down enchantments and spells. But, why would anyone enchant you this way?

“There must be some truth to it, if it’s so prevalent amongst mortal stories.” He argued.

“Maybe, but it’s not like there are soul experts.” You joked. He clapped his hands in excitement.

“There are a few who may know more, Wanda or Strange, maybe. I’ll reach out. In the meantime, have you eaten? I’m positively ravenous. There’s a cafe near here, it’s the only place I’ll get a cup of coffee. The swill they serve here is a tragedy. Surely, they could afford real beans.” He stood and grabbed his coat as he talked. You went along with the movements. Food, coffee, it was too banal. The conversation had dipped it’s toes into something existentially upheaving, the existence of soulmates, and then settled back on flat ground as if it was an entirely normal topic.

The cynic in you wanted to deny everything, and just leave. This was too much, right? Too crazy. Yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this. You had been hearing Loki’s voice for years, as long as you could remember. What would that mean, if not that you were linked somehow.

If nothing else, if everything else was falling down around your ears, you could have a cup of coffee with this perfect stranger. You could sip a latte and bitch about the ludicrous wealth of Tony Stark. You could eat a bagel with a beautiful man, and see what you had in common with him. You could even get used to the casual mentions of magic. It was a small step building to something you weren’t sure you could fathom, yet, but you were ready to take it. Whether Loki was your soulmate was a bridge to cross when you came to it again, for now, you just wanted the company of an old friend you’d never actually met.

tagged: @certifiedhunter @greeneyedblondie44 @ceruleanarwhal@litteraltrassh @jaskiers-sweetkiss

[closhelby]

HER. - Thomas Shelby

Smut

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: it’s peaky blinders, with smut

Word Count: 2472

AN: this is my first time writing smut, please give me any tips pls, it’s appreciate. It’s probably shite.

::::::

She always was on his mind. The woman, that always read between the lines, always two steps ahead of him, and had an incredible eye for business. She had left him years prior, leaving for a top business school in London. they never had a title, a label on their relationship, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that they always, somehow, gravitated back to one another. Often people, especially Polly, would say that there was no way two people would be so alike, strong headed but only rarely clashed. 

However y/n’s degree had finished and she was coming back to Small Heath for a period of time before she was going to figure out what exactly what she wanted to do. Y/n was actually great friends with the Shelby family, since growing up with them, living just down the road, they practically lived together. Y/n was actually younger than Tommy, she was ages with Ada and John. They were in the same class throughout school, Ada and y/n regularly wrote to each other, updating each other on Ada’s eventful life as a Shelby still in Small Heath and y/n’s very exciting studying life in London. 

They had actually planned to meet up, for a nice and quiet drink at the Garrison on her return. The thoughts swirled in y/n’s mind as she approached the Garrison, it had just gone 6pm, and she knew as it was a Friday, she did have a possibly of bumping into her first, arguably her only love.  Pushing the thoughts to the back of her head, she pushed open the door to see a fairly crowded Garrison. 

“Ah, y/n, how was London?” Harry shouted, from behind the bar. Y/n smiled at him, walking over to Ada sitting in the back corner. “It was good Harry, nice to be back in this clear Birmingham air”. He chuckled slightly, “Whiskey coming up love”. 

Y/n nodded, taking a seat next to Ada, giving her a cuddle, “Unsure if ive missed this place or not” y/n laughed slightly, eyes scanning the pub, looking for the one man she questioned if she did want to bump into. The pair was throwing back drinks like it was going out of fashion, knowing they would both regret this in the morning. Apparently, Ada wasn't allowing y/n to go back home, and in fact y/n didn't have a home yet and wasn't willing to go back to her parents, so Ada was insisting that she stayed at hers until y/n found a suitable place. Y/n didnt put up a fight, despite them both being hot heads, and taking absolutely no shit from anyone, men or woman, y/n didn't argue. She was actually really thankful for her. 

They eventually stumbled into the house in the early hours of the morning, their laughs echoing throughout the silent house. 

::::

The sun caught y/n directly in the eyes, quickly awoke y/n from her sleep. Her head felt as though someone had been hitting her head against the floor multiple times. Y/n continued to lay there, turning away from the sun, trying to keep the contents of her stomach from getting sprayed all over her and the sleeping Ada. She made an attempt at moving, sat with her head in her hands as she was trying to give herself words of encouragement to get up and make herself something to eat. 

“Fuck sake, why do we do this to ourselves?” Ada moaned from behind her. Y/n scoffed, “ Your bloody idea”.

Quickly standing up, in hope she could get it over with quickly. The room continuing to spin, as she attempted to walk to the door. Ada following closely behind. 

They both sat slumped over the dining room table, as they attempted to sober up and embrace the oncoming hangover. John now present, laughing at the two dying woman in front of him. 

“Good night?”

“Always.” Ada grumbled.

Pol placed a plate in front of them, toast with jam, “Does Tommy know your back? 

Eyes falling onto y/n from every person in their, “No.” answering quietly. 

Attempting to change the subject, “Told myself I would start looking for a new job today, since I shall be staying here for a decent period of time.”

John raised his eyebrow, “Tommy’s looking for a new secretary.” A slight smile on his face, “You've got a good background, business and that”.

“hm, I don't think so Johny boy”.    

“Don’t say no too soon, your a good asset to the business.” Pol added. No one was ever in y/n’s corner more than Pol, they would bang heads sometimes, as neither of them would back down. But she accepted y/n was the only one that had the best interest for Tommy.

The front door closed, and there he stood, the room turning to face Tommy, silence filling the room, then he broke it, “Heard you were back.”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly.

“Well, you know where I am if you need that job, I’m sure you’ve already been told,” he spoke, cigarette hanging from his mouth, as he walked away from them and into his office.

Y/n let out a breath, as though she hadn’t been breathing the whole time he was there. Ada smiled at her, placing her hand onto y/n’s, “I’m just going to get ready for the day love,” and off she went upstairs. The boys getting on with their day, and Pol following suit.

Y/n sat collecting her thoughts while trying to tell herself to face her ex lover, who she was still so deeply in love with. She tapped on the door slightly, opening it before opening it, “hi”, seeing his eyes flutter onto her shot tingles throughout her body, his eyes quickly looking away

“You can start tomorrow if you wish, I need a few papers signed and sent tomorrow. I can get your contract drawn up tonight.” He spoke, his eyes still not lifting from the paper in front of him.

“Yes, that’s fine 8am?”

“8.45, shop doesn’t open until 9. And there are others to set it up, that’s not your job.”

Nodding, “I heard you have a new woman.”

At this point he did look up at her, “I heard you had plenty men in London,”

She laughed slightly, nodding before heading to the door, “none were ever a patch on you,” closing the door, leaving a smirk on Thomas Shelbys face.

The following day came around, as y/n got ready for the day. Putting on a formal black tightly fitted dress, flats and pin curled hair. A slight tint of red lippy, remembering it used to be Tom’s favourite. Assuming Tommy wouldn’t be at the shop at this time, she took a whiskey with her placing it on the desk infront of Tommy’s office. The place was silent, despite there being other employees now starting to arrive, something calming about the place, almost the calm before the storm, she thought.

The hour was now around ten thirty, and there was still no sign of Tommy. She had already finished the papers he had left for her on her desk. It wasn’t the usual small Heath lady, she was educated, and to a very high level. y/n was sat twiddling her thumbs, awaiting Tommy’s arrival to get other things done.

“Y/n. My office please,” his voice low, as he stood behind her. She stood up quickly, following him into the private room.

“There’s your contract, if you wish to have a read over it. I see you’ve finished the work I gave given you for the day.”

Y/n took the contract into her hands, scanning for any mistakes or anything to question. But he actually was paying her nearly double the rate of other staff, and just over that the London rate was, “you’ve done your research eh. More than London rates, impressive. The peaky’s are stepping up in the world” Y/n smiled at him, as she placed the documents on the desk, picking up his pen, and signing it. Y/n Y/l/n. Followed with today’s date. That was now it, she was a Shelby Co Ltd employee.

...

The days turned into weeks, spending time with tommy while no one else was looking was becoming a regular thing. She now had her own place, just doors down from the shop. He would regularly call her into the office, and discuss things that he would usually never utter a word about. It had always been that way with them, since they were little, he would confine in her, telling her all the issue and problems he was facing, both in his mind and with others. But it was also coming to her attention that he was still seeing Grace.

Later on in the day, the clock chimes 11pm, as y/n sat listening to the music that takes her back to a child, while sipping a whiskey. The knock of her front door bringing her out of her daydream, she picked up her handgun that she kept on her at all times. Growing up with The Shelby’s, she had to protect herself in someway. She kept it behind her, out of view for anyone who was in front of her, slowly creeping up to answer the door. She swung it open, gun clocked and pointed directly in the face of Thomas Shelby. Not wasted, but defiantly had a few.

“Ah, can never change a Shelby girl eh” He spoke, laughing slightly as she lowered the gun and he stepped inside. 

“Although, I’ve never been a Shelby girl, have I Tom?”

“Depends who you ask.”

She sighed, stepping in to the fire lit living room, “Drink?”

He nodded in response, and y/n began to pour him a whiskey, topping up hers and handing a full glass over to him. “Why are you here?”

He stepped over to her, the closest they had been together since before she left for London. He placed a hand on her back, pulling her head into touch his, their foreheads touching. The sensation ran through her body like the first time they had ever touched. He placed his hand on around the back of her neck, pulling her into him, his lips crashing onto hers. Their tongues intertwining with each others as the kiss started to deepen.  Y/n reached for his jacket, pulling it off his back, before making her way on to unbuttoning his shirt. Tommy pulled the bottom of her nightdress up, y/n only allowing the kiss to be broken to allow it to come over her head. 

Their lips syncing with each other once again as tommy took his now unbuttoned shirt off, moving onto unbuckling his trousers revealing his already hard length. He began to push her back onto the couch, untangling her lace thongs from around her legs. His fingers trailing over her already wet pussy, “Do it” y/n whispered as she pulled his face back up to kiss hers. 

He didn't even wait as he shoved his length into her. Their bodies rocked in sync together, “Tommy...” Y/n moaned, her fingers trailing down his shirtless torso. The stars were starting to align, the room was warm, full of love. It felt as though it was five minutes but in reality it was around fifteen all in.

Their breath shortened as y/n’s back started to arch as she came close to climax, “cum for me”. He spoke, looking at her directly in the eyes as he rocked her world. The love, chemistry, love and lust, all so very present just as it was back how they were before. Both of them moaning in pleasure, as they both came at the same time. The deep breaths and steamy windows showing the passion that had just unfolded. 

::::::::::::::::::::

It was a Friday evening, a week following the night of sin that taken place between Tommy and Y/n. They had still had the talks in private in the office, and on another occasion she was fucked bent over his desk after closing time. Y/n wasn't one to hide her feelings, it would always be present on her face so when it came to facing Grace in the Garrison, it wasn't hard to tell how y/n’s feelings were over her.  

Pol chuckled softly, clocking the glare Grace was on the opposite end of, “If looks could kill” Ada joining in on the hilarity. 

“She would've been killed 8 times over” Y/n replied, turning back to face the women. Whiskey in hand. 

“Feelings still there for him then?” Ada asked. 

“No, I wouldnt say so” y/n lied. 

“Cant lie to a gypsy woman love” Pol laughed, y/n begining to laugh with her when the doors open to reveal Tommy and his two bothers. Tommy’s icy blue eyes scanning the room, a slight smile shooting over to Y/n before approching the bar where Grace was, where he stood there for a good twenty minutes chatting away to her. 

“I cant take this anymore.” y/n looked over to Ada, who was rising her eyebrow while taking a sip of her drink. She was fairly close to them, and y/n being y/n liked to have a slight stir up now and again. She stood up, smile showing on her face as Pol and Ada laughed, watching her approach them both. 

“So, hows your little fling going?” she spok loud enough that Pol, Ada, Arthur and John could hear her. 

“Y/n” Tommy warned. 

“Who are you?” Grace questioned. 

“Y/N,” she responded, leaning herself against the bar, “The woman he has fucked behind your back multiple times this week.”

Pol snorted, almost chocking on her drink, “ I fucking knew it. Gypsy senses never lie.” 

“To be honest with you Grace, you had absolutely no chance when Y/N came back” Ada added. 

At this point, Tommy had moved y/n away from the bar, into the small room, “what are you doing?”

“You cant take the piss out of me, fucking me but then fucking her thinking youll get away with it.” she was pissed, and he could see it in her face. They had never spoke on their feelings toward each other. Everyone knew that it was always each other but there was nothing that compared to them, they always seemed to go back.

“I have always loved you but you left to go to London, I had people follow you. I knew what you were up to so I assumed you would stay down there, I assumed you had moved on.” He spoke, almost showing vulnerability.

“Oh I know. I can remember faces Tom. I think you forget I can see right through you,” she seethed, through her teeth, “what are you going to do about this?”

Tommy cupped her face, pulling her into kiss her.

“I love you.” He mumbled, feeling her smile into their kiss.

“I love you Tom,”

[usmsgutterson]

Certainly- Kaz Brekker

The reader is a bit of an astrology and astronomy alike geek for this, which I hope y’all don’t mind! Also, in this case, phones exist so lets pretend that phones exist in Ketterdam, making it a bit of a modern au, I guess!

Also, this’ll probably be a bit ooc for Kaz

Fic type- angsty fluff

Warnings- blood, mentions of death, and the reader is sick (nothing specific, I just kind of took random symptoms and made up a word for the sickness)

You were determined to see the stars before you went, and as you grew sicker, none of the crows knew when that would be, so, after a little convincing, the crows had gotten Colm to let you spend a couple of months at his farm in Novyi Zem, where the stars were the clearest at night, not burdened by light pollution or the screams of lively cities. 

It was the seven of you crammed into a basement, sharing beds, but none of them cared, and you were just glad to be with the people you called family. You were happy that they were with you, that Kaz was willing to wheel you everywhere when you got too weak to stand, that Jesper still made jokes, even despite watching you deteriorate. You were grateful for Inejs smile, Wylans music, Ninas impeccable tastes and Matthias and his big arms that could lift you and put you down without issue. 

The six of them had started taking shifts taking you outside. Nina took you outside Sunday nights, Matthias Mondays, Wylan Tuesdays, Jesper Thursdays, Inej Fridays and Kaz Saturdays. Wednesdays you rested up; ate when it was time to eat, used the bathroom when you needed, took a shower if it were the appropriate time, but other than that, you slept.

It was Kaz’s day to wheel you out, and you’d had a particularly rough day that day. Inej went with him, promising not to intrude on the time that you would spend together. She’d do backflips and run across the roof of the farm if you asked her to, but she’d not interrupt otherwise. 

“I love the stars,” you whispered, leaning back in your wheelchair and tightening the hold of the blanket over your lap. “Thank you both. For doing this.” 

“Don’t you worry, love,” Kaz murmured. “Just keep your eyes on the stars, okay?”

“We’re happy to do this,” Inej added. “All of us are. Really.” It was like both of them could sense it as well as you could. You had a feeling that the night would end terribly, just like the morning had begun.

You’d woken up only to need to rush to the toilet immediately, blood coming up your throat like bile, staining your skin and leaving your bottom lip red as a cherry. 

Kaz had been at your side in a minute, Nina and Wylan right behind him. Wylan kept your hair away from the sides of your face, Nina slowed your heartrate and Kaz wet a cloth with cold water to get your body temp down. 

Kaz had forced himself to stay in the moment, to not let his thoughts stray to the urge to sleep in the same bed as you to make sure that nothing happened while you slept--to be there in case something did--but to stay on the sun as it set and the faraway sound of Wylan playing his flute with the window open so that you’d be able to hear it. 

Once you’d gotten settled under a tree, Inej ran off, making her way inside and up to the barns roof, where she sat, keeping a watch from a distance as Kaz let you rest your head against his shoulder, gloved hand interlaced with yours. 

“I love you, Brekker,” you murmured. “Please don’t forget that. Ever.” 

“I won’t,” he whispered. “You’re gonna stay around and get better until we can spar again, and you can beat my ass even though I’ve my cane as a weapon.” 

“You know full well I can’t promise that,” you wished that you could. You desperately wished. “I’m going to die young, Kaz. I’m not gonna get to eighteen, much less eighty.” Kaz hated you for that.

He hated you because everything that you said somehow managed to be right. It was like you had a sixth sense for that kind of thing, and while, on missions, it proved useful, in that scenario, it just proved annoying. 

“You’re gonna make it to eighteen if it kills me,” he informed you. “I’ll take you around the globe if I need to, just to make sure you end up okay. I will not live a life without you in it, Y/N.” 

“You’re sweet,” you murmured. “Incredibly sweet.”

“Only to you, L/N.” That was the last bit of conversation for a long while as the sun set and the stars came out.

“Did you know that the moon isn’t circular?” You pointed lazily to it, bright and beautiful amongst the even brighter stars. “According to scientests, it’s actually shaped like a lemon!” Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

Of course you’d be spouting off the little factoids you knew about space. You loved it, how vast and crazy it all seemed. 

“And that the clouds at the center of the Milky Way smell like raspberries and rum?” Kaz snorted.

“Okay, now, theres no way that ones true!” 

“Oh,” you leaned up, booping his nose without a care in the world. “But it is! It’s in a study somewhere, I think! Look it up!” He laughed, pulling you closer to him as you rambled.

Inej had started doing running flips across the roof, spinning and dancing and no doubt laughing as she did. Kaz knew it was an elaborate effort to get you to smile, and it seemed to work as she moved; a delightful silhouette amongst a star filled sky. 

“I love you, Kaz Brekker,” you whispered. “You don’t need to say it back, but I really, truly do love you with every bone that exists in my body.”

“I love you too,” he said it without hesitation. “And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey, I swear it.”

“Don’t hold me to that promise,” you murmured. “You know how bad this is. Stop thinking that I’ll make it into the new year. I probably wont.”

“You will if it kills me, Y/N,” he gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’ll drain the bank dry if I have to, I swear to Ghezen.”

You didn’t say anything after, too exhausted to even think about starting an argument with him, simply not wanting to. 

But then, an hour later, Kaz felt fear trickle into his stomach like it hadn’t ever in his life.

“And then theres Supernova. It’s like a star that’s dying having it’s last celebration. Like when we get a really big win, or when we get away with what we intended to get away with, and we all get shitfaced before we collapse onto our beds and sleep for the night? A supernova is a dying stars explosion. It’s the last celebration that the star has before it dies out.” you’d been rambling.

“Tonight is my... tonight is my...” Kaz had called for Nina right then and there, screaming her name while he felt you go slack against him.

“Zenik!” He screamed, not caring at all if he were to wake up Jespers father. “Zenik, call in that fucking favor with the bloody Ravkan prince!” Matthias came barreling out after her, phone in hand, already speaking to someone as Nina began working, steadying your heart and trying her hardest to keep you alive. 

Kaz had to force himself to walk away from it all, pushing his feet away after giving your shoulders one last squeeze and walking far out into the field. 

Once he was sure he was out of earshot, he couldn’t stop himself. Tears flooded his eyes and he found himself glaring at the sky, wanting to scream, wanting to shout, wishing that there was someone around that he could gut like a fish. 

“Saints,” he murmured through gritted teeth. “Sankt Ilya, Sankt Adrik, Sankta Alina of The Fold, I know I am a terrible person, but Y/N is not. They’re good, they smile, they laugh, they’re kind to others when those people probably don’t deserve their kindness. I know I’m damned, I know that you probably strongly dislike me, but they’re different.” He’d never asked the Saints for anything before, and he never would again.

“Please, just, let them live. Let them get the life that they deserve. I’ll do my best to make them happy, but you have to let me,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as they came. “They deserve the life that you’re so willing to take away, and all I ask is that you don’t take it.” He heard the sounds of the ambulance car and raced back to you, gripping your hand as they helped you onto a stretcher and out of the field, through the house and out the entrance. 

I won’t lose them, he told himself. A world without them is one that’s unbearable. 

O N E Y E A R L A T E R 

You laughed as Nina chased you through the halls of the Little Palace, running quickly through the endless corridors, your laughter carrying through them as you kept yourself in front of Nina.

Nikolai had kept you in the Os Altan palace since that night, where Inej laughed and danced and did her flips, whilst Wylan played the piano and Kaz sat beside you, listening to your ramblings without a care in the world. 

“You seem delighted,” Nikolai noticed as you stopped in front of his office. “I’ve never seen you walk without that Brekker boy at your side, much less run while Zenik is on your tail!” You shrugged, laughing as Ninas front crashed into your back.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a year,” you murmured. “I figured I’d see if Nina was up to chase me around this morning, and I haven’t stopped running since!” You peered in through the open office door, looking for that familliar mop of dark brown hair.

Nina wrapped her arms around you and gave you a gentle squeeze. “He’ll be here any minute,” she murmured. “He and the boys are just finishing up a job for Nik in East Ravka, but Matthias told me the second that they’d left!”

“Trust me. Y/N,” Nikolais smooth voice murmured. “I put them on one of my fastest boats. I knew how long it’d take them to get from here to east Ravka and back, and I promised him he’d be here when you finally awoke.” 

“Hows it feel, anyway?” Zoya appeared at his side. “Eighteen, I mean.” You shrugged.

“I miss Kaz,” you murmured bluntly. “I hate that I have to tell him that he was right, but I still miss him.” 

Nikolai took Zoyas hand, pulling her close as you and Nina watched, smiles on your faces. 

“Young love,” Zoya teased. “Zenik, let go of them so that they can turn around.” Nina obeyed, letting you go and moving to lean against the doorway with Nikolai and Zoya. 

You turned, and smiled when your gazes met. “You were right, Brekker,” you murmured, walking toward him as he held out your gift to you. “I’m better now, and the second that you’re ready to spar, I’m gonna beat your ass, even though you’ve your cane as a weapon.” He grabbed your pinky with his the moment you were within distance.

“How’d the heist go?” You murmured once the two of you had walked out of earshot. 

“Good,” Kaz let himself be close to you as you two moved, squeezing your pinky as you slowed your steps. “Plan went off without a hitch, for three idiots and a mastermind with a limp. I brought you this from it,” he held the gift out to you again, and you took it in your free hand, examining it.

“I had to ask permission for that,” he murmured. “I had to get the Ravkan kings seal of approval to steal that for you.” You laughed, looking it over.

It was a journal. Black and leather bound, pages crisp and untouched. A pen was tucked into the cover. 

“I promise, we’ll go home soon,” you responded. “I miss Ketterdam. I could go for some waffles.” 

“Don’t they have waffles here?” Kaz questioned.

“Not Ketterdam waffles, love. Ketterdam waffles are unlike any pathetic waffle from here! Doused in syrup and whip cream--” You let out a satisfied sigh. “So good it’s almost surreal!” Kaz smirked.

“Waffle date when you’re well enough to return home then?” 

“Certainly.”

[psychicdreamfriendoperator]

Can I get some headcanons with Free dating someone? I am WEAK

I might have rambled a bit on this one haha, feel free to resend the ask if you wanted something else!

— Psychic

.

.

.

Things to Note

the name should be an indicator, but Free enjoys his freedom— he’ll be resistant to anything that restricts it.

the Shishigumi comes first; even if Free is laidback, he's still part of the gang’s inner circle.

.

.

.

Meeting Free

surprisingly enough, your relationship with Free did not begin as anything sexual.

It doesn't even begin as a friendship — it's difficult to describe a situation wherein you find a random lion in your house.

You think he was trying to rob you.

You fainted, of course.

When you awoke, you found yourself on the floor with a nasty ache in your back and a note nearby.

The words were scribbled hastily in print; “WILL VISIT AGAIN SOON”.

You filed a police report, but nothing came of it— other an officer’s promise that the station would keep an eye out for “any suspicious characters”.

The police station is blind, you concluded. Reason being, the lion returned exactly a week later.

Now, Free (as you’ve learnt is his name) just waltzes in and makes himself at home.

No matter how often you changed the locks or fortified the windows, Free found a way in.

It was almost like a game for the feline— you gave up on trying to keep him out.

Free had a nasty habit of not taking off his dirty ass shoes before he put his feet up on your white couch.

As your relationship progressed, he became more mindful of his behaviour— though, it took him a while to remember not to put his shoes all over your furniture.

.

.

.

Gifts

you grew used to the lion visiting you randomly. Sometimes, Free did not visit you empty handed.

Free gave you an expensive phone— albeit one with a cracked screen, a watch that smelled like seawater and a couch with red polka-dots to replace the one he dirtied with the grime at the bottom of his shoe.

It took you ten minutes of cleaning your “brand-new” sofa to realise that the red spots were not part of the original design.

It was definitely best not to ask Free where exactly he sourced his gifts from.

You eventually began to feel a bit poorly about receiving things from him all the time.

The first time you presented Free with a gift, he shut down.

.

.

During his visits, Free liked to make use of your bathroom. He always set his suit, tie and shoes one side while he cleaned himself (and used up all your hot water in the process).

It was inevitable that you would notice the wrinkles, and the scuff marks.

You couldn't have something so unkempt in your house. It wasn't an issue for you to do a quick spot of ironing.

Even the shoes could be made presentable— you just had to wipe them off and apply a bit of black polish.

When Free realised what you had done, he seemed to be speechless. Just when you expected to hear a “Thank you Y/N”, God quickly brought you back to reality.

“You're going to do this sort of thing from now on?” He held the suit jacket up by its sleeves, as if searching for the wrinkles he knew were no longer present.

You shrugged. “If you keep your shoes off my couch, then sure,”

.

.

You thought that your gift would encourage him to visit more often, but for a whole month, Free did not visit you.

You wondered if the police had finally caught the bastard— but, after a month, he returned as if nothing had ever happened.

After that, he no longer showered at your place.

.

.

.

Free’s Thoughts & Motivations

this ‘relationship’ was the longest one Free had ever been in.

The lion who bathed in the revelry of the Black Market now looked forward not just to bloodshed, but to movie marathons and hearing you bitch about your neighbours.

The fear of this casualty metamorphosing into something serious . . . something permanent, compelled Free to leave you alone for a while to collect his thoughts.

He only visited you because your home was a convenient place to rest before returning to the Mansion.

(The night you met him, he'd broken in to avoid a police patrol in the area.)

The presents were bribes to keep you complacent.

(Though . . . maybe he felt a bit bad about ruining your sofa.)

As much as your gesture touched him, Free wanted nothing in return.

Your gift was proof that you held some kind of affection for him.

Free returned to the Mansion feeling quite warm inside that day, but he didn't dare shower at your place again.

The affection that you held for him, no matter how miniscule, was addictive.

.

.

.

Dating

The others didn't pay much attention to it when Free casually mentioned that he had a “friend" outside of the Black Market.

The inner circle grew suspicious when he refused to elaborate further.

.

.

“It's time that we address the elephant in the room.” Dolph gave a pointed look at the only empty chair in the room.

Free’s chair.

The others around the table nodded once in solemn agreement. Then, someone raised their hand.

Dolph’s expression seemed to soften the smallest amount. “Yes, Agata?”

“Who’s going to kill him if we find out he’s planning to leave the gang? I would volunteer but my shoulder's still healing from that last gang war—”

Before the scar-faced lion could reply, Ibuki interjected. “This is Free we are discussing— he would not betray the Shishigumi in such a manner. There's no need to discuss things like that,”

He tapped a claw against the table, “In any case, we will get to the bottom of this. Tonight.”

.

.

.

A Cause For Concern

you thought that you were being paranoid.

You hoped that you weren't really being followed.

There was no mistaking it.

Everywhere you went, everytime you went outside, it was there.

A singular black car.

.

.

“Eh? What are you panicking about?” You heard Free's voice, but you didn't respond. You tossed your car keys, and they landed on the kitchen table.

You sped over to the windows. With one, great motion, you drew them, only stopping when the entire house was draped in darkness.

“There’s this black car . . . It’s been tailing me all weekend,” Though your voice was calm, your hands were shaking as you made your way back to the couch.

Free grew thoughtful, but only for the briefest of moments. He waved dismissively, and lapped one leg over the other, pulling you onto his lap with his free arm.

“Don’t worry about it. Just the Shishigumi being the Shishigumi. They won't break in or anything,”

Silence hung in the air only for half a minute, before Free added, “Probably won't, anyways,”

But, you are more focused on the s-word, rather than on what they may or may not do to your home.

“Shishigumi . . .?” The word was foreign on your tongue, but it was not entirely unfamiliar.

You didn't move off of his lap, but you gently pried off the hands that held your waist in place.

If you didn't know better, you would have sworn that Free looked just a bit . . . hurt by your actions. Still, he got the message and his hands remained at either side of himself.

You were grateful for that much.

“I didn't stutter,” The lion tsked. His hand slid over his mane. He was antsy about something, thag much you knew.

When Free next spoke, his voice was low. His chin rest atop your head, and you could easily feel the calming vibration of his throat.

“It doesn't bother you, right?”

A sigh escaped your lips. You pinched your nose. You internally debated strangling him for daring to ask something with such an obvious answer.

Of course you would mind! You felt as if you had always known Free was part of some illegal operation— but, it had never crossed your mind to assume the lion was in an actual gang!

No . . . that was a lie.

The thought had crossed your mind. You willed the thought to go away everytime it reared its ugly head.

���No, I don't mind, Free. I don't mind at all.”

.

.

.

Going Steady

Free talked things out with his colleagues— that's what he told you, at least.

The ominous black vehicle that stalked your every move disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

Life went back to normal, though, the visitor's list expanded by eight more lions.

Ibuki and Dolph were infrequent visitors— if they stopped by, then you knew it was on important business.

Agata often fetched your groceries, so you saw him often.

Miguel, Dope and Jinma visited infrequently, but were not as rare to see as Ibuki and Dolph.

Hino, like Agata, was a regular. He mostly crashed in your guest room— apparently, it was easier to fall asleep at your place.

Once every few months, Sabu would deliver your groceries instead of Agata. He seemed nice enough, but you found him to be intimidating as hell.

For better or for worse, Free begun spending nights at your house.

It would be wrong to call him a freeloader, though.

.

.

“There's ten grand in here . . .” You murmured to yourself. You turned the envelope over in your hands. Your name was written on the side, in Free's chickenscratch penmanship.

But, there was also a note; “10K. RENT MONEY FOR Y/N.”

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte xi (no longer canon)

NOTE: Chapters X and XI are not longer considered canon in Lavender Latte.

....

(explicit, r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

|| series masterlist  ||

word count: ~6.8k

beta’ed: @hawnks (thank u!! 💕)

heat in two ways 

warnings: spicy content, a little bit of overstimulation. enjoy, loves ;^)

...

a/n: a little recap from last chapter, because its been awhile! keigo and reader ‘nested’ together after that nasty little panic attack from a few chapters ago. and now? guess you gotta see find out!! ;^) enjoy my loves!!!!

Things felt calmer, later. Your combined world had settled into the sheets with slumber. 

Thank god. 

When you both awoke, the sun was just beginning to set. 

The light that filtered in from the cracks in the curtains was amber, painting orange streaks across your dark bedroom.

The two of you had shifted, somewhat, perhaps falling even deeper into the nest you’d made, the softness of it forming to the contours and curves of your snuggled-up bodies. 

It was cozy, burrowing your face into Keigo’s chest, hardly awake and vaguely aware of the way his hands pressed wide against your lower back. 

You felt melted in the best way. 

“Comfy,” The word slipped from your lips without much thought, snuggling closer.

Your skull was no longer throbbing, neither was your hand or foot. 

It just felt calm, the only sensations Keigo’s breath and heart, and the ambient hum of the rest of the world. 

“Am I now?” Keigo chuckled from above you, voice crackling with sleep. “I have to say the same about you.”

You made a high sound in the back of your throat, shifting the slightest bit to drag your lips along his throat, bearing into the flesh with the barest drags of your teeth.  

He shuddered, squeezing the fat around your hips.

Maybe it was that your mind was still somewhat raw, but you were feeling particularly gooey. 

Maybe, it was that your mind didn’t have the will or the way to be too guarded, not when you felt so safe, especially in contrast to the hellish mindscape you’d been in hours before.

Not that you remembered it all that well— and good, you didn’t want to.

Your only bits of lucidity were in the present.

And god, did that feel good.

 Keigo tended to wake up quickly.  

It was just how he ticked, as tired as he was at any given time, he could always pull himself to wakefulness so quickly. 

With you, all warm and fucking perfect against his side, it was both a blessing and a curse.

Sure, he could’ve gotten to sleepily awaken with you, if his body hadn’t startled him from REM sleep the moment you shifted and whined against him. 

Though, being awake meant he got to watch you wake, and that in and of itself was a privilege he coveted.

It was new, even with the few ‘sleepovers’ the two of you had shared, all that sleepy peace was nearly untouched. The stillness and natural slowness of it was something that Keigo had come to crave.

He traced shapes against your ribs, leaning into the feel of you.

“How are you feeling?” His words were muffled into the top of your hair. 

“Good.”

“Very descriptive.”

“‘M sleepy,” You truly whined, twisting your legs with his own. “Don’t wanna think right now, Kei’.”

He suppressed a shiver at the little nickname on your lips. 

“That can be arranged,” Keigo hummed, pulling a blanket higher on your shoulders. “Do you want to keep sleeping? I can run out and grab some food?”

There was a moment of silence before you sniffled, burrowing your face into his neck.

Still so fragile.

“D-don’t leave yet, okay? Just a little more, please,” Your voice was pitched up with sleep, wobbling as Keigo felt the smallest tears begin to wet his sleep shirt.

His heart sank.

 “I’m not leaving, not unless you ask me to,” He murmured into your hair. “I’ll keep telling you that as long as I need to.”

The multiple meanings of his words mostly went over your head, yet you felt overwhelming and instant relief of knowing that Keigo wouldn’t be leaving your nest on his own volition anytime soon.

The assurance made your heart swell, even if your tired mind couldn’t swim in the depths of his tone.

All the same, you sucked in a breath before pulling him down into a needy kiss. 

It was reminiscent of the kind that you’d shared earlier. All desperate and clawing for grounding and stability in touch. 

Keigo gave it freely in the same way you gave it without knowing.

He nipped at your bottom lip, relishing the high keen that pulled from the back of your throat.

You’d done this all before, heated kisses and much-needed touches, but there had always been a line to stay away from. Especially on such an intense day, the last thing Keigo wanted to do was push your limits. 

 But, maybe you wanted to.

You tugged at Keigo’s waves, snuggling closer in time with the way you kitten-licked into his mouth. 

He groaned, shifting against you. You moved with him, craving him in any way you could get.

His leg shifted between your thighs. Immediately, you squeezed around it, feeling his own tight, lean muscle.

You’d gotten good at repressing your desire for his touch, barring yourself from any contact that could push past your threshold toward overstimulated disaster. Maybe, you had been overcautious, but it seemed better than scaring Keigo away with your potential shortcomings.

Wound together in the heat of your ‘nest’, though? 

Your quirk and mind had already detonated and didn’t have anything left in you besides fumes. All that burned in your gut was the swell of want and heat. 

You ground against him, barely, whining against his lips. 

Your heart panged a bit when Keigo pulled back, lips wet and pupils wide. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but you carefully rolled your hips against, the hardening bulge in his joggers pressing against your navel.

“I want to feel you,” It slipped out desperate and sticky as you locked your hands around the back of his neck.

 It was more than okay, better than okay.

 “I promise, I’ll stop us if anything gets to be too much,” You told him, a little more sheepish as Keigo stared up at you, wide-eyed. 

His lips parted as his words got lost between his mind and mouth. His hands stayed still at his sides by sheer power of will. 

“I just...” Your voice wobbled as you rubbed at your eyes. “Is this okay?”

 You were too soft for too much, but Keigo didn’t mind; he never did. 

“Very.”

He pulled you down by the collar of your shirt to show you how ‘okay’ it was. 

Admittedly, he was needy with his touches. His palms cupped your ass, squeezing and massaging over your shorts. Keigo had been holding himself back in the weeks prior without issue, but getting more of you, in any way was intoxicating.

That was not to say that he didn’t keep in mind your fragile state, no, he just made sure his touch was firmer, and his breath ran hotter.

Sensation served as a gentle reminder that ‘Keigo was right there, and he wasn’t letting you go. 

 You kept a tight grip on his sweater as he flipped the two of you, nudging your booted-leg to splay out comfortably. 

“Fank’ you,” You mumbled against his lips, chasing them for a moment as he drew away.

“Of course,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, trailing lower to nip at your neck.

You whimpered when he reached a particularly sensitive patch

“This okay?” Keigo hummed.

“V-Very,” You replied, playing with the hem of his cropped sweater. “Please keep going.”

 (Like you had to ask.)

 You kept an eye on your fragile state, but with how little there was left in you and the quiet of the surroundings, there wasn’t much to watch. All you could feel was the roll and heat of each other’s bodies. There was nothing else to ring loudly in your skull.

Just Keigo and you, twisted up in each other and the bedding of your nest.

Perfect. 

You snuck your hands up the back of his sweater, running your nails down his back, just barely teasing at the roots of his outstretched wings. Teasing him was easier than you’d thought it’d be, considering you knew how gooey he got any time you even got close to his wings.

The shudder he gave you was confirmation of that.

“Careful there,” Keigo warned with a chuckle. Despite his laughter, you could feel the way his breath stutter with each sweet touch. 

“Why? Whatcha gonna do about it, Kei’?” You grinned back, smitten, as he stilled around your collarbones. 

“There’s plenty I could do,” It was a warning, one that enticed you to no end. 

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.,” You challenged. 

“I think you’d like that too much,” Keigo chuckled against your neck. “Seems you’re pretty excited already too, hm?”  

A few of his fingers teased at the waistband of your shorts. 

He wasn’t wrong.

(At all.)

You scraped your nails along the base of his wings and much to your joy, Keigo’s spine arched and he practically whimpered. 

“Cute,” You snorted, rolling your hips up into his. “You’re not so tough, either.” 

Something like a growl rumbled from the back of his throat.

“Hush, dove,” Keigo cooed, far too sweetly for how his hands were dipping underneath your shirt. “Neither are you.” 

Both of you were so damn doughy for the other, the banter fell away. There was plenty of time for teasing, but both of you were thinking of a very different kind. 

Before you could quip back, Keigo was palming at your breast, teasing your pebbled nipple. You bit your lip to suppress a whine, shots of pleasure turning you even gooier and pliant. 

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty of soft points,” Keigo sounded all too pleased with himself as he hovered his face over yours. He gave a few slow blinks, pupils blown wide. “And I cannot fucking wait to find them all.”

...

If you hadn't soaked through your panties before, you certainly had now. 

Keigo could do anything to you, you decided. Having him over you, all sleep golds and heat was warming your insides in the best ways.

And you wanted more. 

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, and quickly melted as your shirt was pushed higher and higher. Every piece of you, raw and needy, wanted Keigo, needed him close, even closer— 

And Keigo fed the flames your mutually hot desire without shame.

“I’ve really wanted to learn you like this,” His fingers slowly traced over your side, taking his time to watch you squirm. His voice slowed to drawl, “All the ways I can get you fucked off my touch.”

Oh, what a prospect.

The thought of Keigo wrecking you was only a smidge daunting. It was easy to forget any potential unease when you let your relax against his touch, imagining all of the things he could do to you. 

God, did you want him to have his way. 

“You’re welcome to t-try,” You gently challenged as Keigo hiked your shirt over your tits, teeth scraping over the skin of your neck once more. 

With a chuckle, he lapped at your pulse point, “Gladly.”

Despite his confidence and your waning will, you weren’t to be outdone.

You wound your fingers into the small, fluffy feathers at the base of his wings, teasing the roots with the pads of your thumbs. 

In the earlier weeks, you’d found Keigo to be surprisingly sensitive. He joked occasionally about touch-starvation, but you knew there was a fair amount of truth to it. There had to be, with how his breath hitched with even your lightest touch.

His wings were the culmination of that thrumming need and craving for contact, and you were more than willing to exploit this knowledge. 

Keigo moaned against your neck with the stroke of your fingers, cursing under his breath. Your light massaging only seemed to spur him on, nails digging lightly into the soft flesh of your chest.

Despite the pricklings of pain, you still felt so soft. 

You were too weak for him, all wound up in the softness of the bedding and him, in every sensory sense, to put up too much of your own front. He felt too good not to invite and urge closer.

You tugged him up by the hair on the back of his head, pressing your lips together and stroking your thumbs down his cheeks. 

 Keigo kept his hips mostly still but was very aware of his own ragingly hard cock. Maybe, he was leaking into his boxer. 

Maybe.

You gasped against his lips, all breathy and sweet, “F-fuck, Keigo.” 

His mind ran blank, white-hot from the pleasure of mere words. 

He mentally repeated your words a few times, in your perfect cadence. The way your breath stuttered in your chest, the heat of your surrounding him, the softness of your body and the break in your voice— 

No one had ever said his name like that before and God, did he want more of it. 

He’d pull it from his lips as long as you’d let him. 

You pulled away only to meet his eyes with your blown pupils and upturned lips.

He calmed himself at the sight, reminding himself carefully that the last thing he would want to do is push you over your invisible edge of overstimulation. 

“You okay?” Keigo asked instinctively, running a hand through your hair to soothe any potential ills.

“I-I am, very okay,” You swallowed, “Two things, though.”

“Shoot.”

“One, can you lose this?” You fiddled with the hem of his sweater. “I’m not... sure how to get it off with your wings.” 

Yes, yes, yes. Holy fuck. 

Maybe, Keigo was acting a bit too needy, but he couldn’t make himself care. With the sweetness on your face and the insistence in your touch, you were right there with him.

Keigo immediately sat up over your hips, tugging his shirt from around the base of his wings.

He swore his heart was going to burst as he took in the absolutely love-drunk look in your eyes. Your throat bobbed as you took him in, 

You reached up to run a hand along his navel, visibly swallowing, “Keigo... you’re so gorgeous— it’s kinda overwhelming sometimes. In a good way.”

Fuck his ego being ‘boosted’, more like inflated.

Maybe ego wasn’t the right word. His chest felt too full for it to just be some superficial sense of pride. It all felt too raw and sweet to just be some baseless confidence. 

It was that earnestness of yours again, lighting him up from the inside out.

“Sweetness,” The name rolled off his tongue, new and comfortable. “You’re too kind, really. But, I gotta know, what was that second thing you mentioned?”

You blinked back your stupor, shaking your head.

“Uh, fuck, it made more sense before, sorry, it’s alright.”

Keigo frowned, lowering himself back down to brace his arms on either side of your head. 

“Nah, tell me, dove. I want to know.”

You bit your lip, turning your head and gaze away. Keigo tapped your chin back to center, nuzzling into your nose with his own.

“You sure?” You asked softly, hand trailing up and behind his shoulders.

“Of course.”

“Earlier it just seemed like you were... uh—” You averted your gaze again. “Holding back is all. On my neck. You don’t need to.” 

Keigo cocked his head to the side, “What do you mean?” 

“Like...” You were struggling to get the words out, face heating up. “I would really like it if you marked me up a bit, you know. In that sense. You know?”

 The gears turned in his mind, something burning deep in his chest.

If his cock wasn’t rock hard before, it was now.

The thought of marking you, his sweet, somewhat injured partner (mate), up in the comfort of the nest the two of you made together made something stir in his gut and mind. 

And fuck, if he wasn’t going to act on it. 

Keigo fully slipped your shirt off, trying to take in as much of you with his eyes before his hands and mouth got their turn. 

Hungrily, he wound a hand into the hair on the side of your head, pulling to bear your neck shoulder full to him. With a growl, his teeth raked over your neck, hard enough that your moans cracked as they fell.

Without thought, Keigo spoke, earnest and hushed, “You have no fucking idea how much I want to wreck you, do you?” 

You swallowed, “Show me then.”

...

That honesty was going to be the death of him and you, he was sure of it.

Keigo held nothing back as he sucked and bit along your neck and shoulders, leaving bruises and marks in his wake wherever he could. 

The little glimpses of red and purple had him scalding under his skin. 

 Much the same for you, notably.

“Fuck, Keigo!” You gasped when he sucked a bruise onto the underside of your breast, lips moving to the bud of your nipple later to massage and suck and tease and generally make you undone.

Your cunt physically ached with the need to be touched, the little bit of friction you could manage from grinding against Keigo pelvis was something, sure, but hardly enough.

Not to mention you wanted to feel more of him too.

“C-Can I touch you? Please?” You asked, breathless and pushed yourself up on your elbows. 

Keigo pulled your shirt up and over your tits, panting.

Idly, he traced over the hickeys and bites he’d left.

“How do you want to touch me, dove?” 

He left the question open, eyeing you with a half-lidded, nearly black gaze.

You swallowed down any fears you might’ve had, body thrumming, but quirk sufficiently dormant.

You slid your hand between the two of your bodies, cupping Keigo’s cock over his sweats.

“However makes you feel good.”

Keigo’s expression nearly broke, but he retained his composure, barely between his ragged breaths and hungry eyes.

“Can I suck your cock? Please?”

 Keigo couldn’t hold back the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head. 

You, begging for his cock, bruised and bitten all for him with the sweetest whine to your voice.

“P-please, dove, please.”

Oh, to hear Keigo beg for your mouth, for your touch— for you. 

You obliged eagerly. 

Keigo slipped off his joggers, palming himself through his boxer as he kneeled in the bedding. His wings had assembled themselves more fully, the red plumage outstretched and almost rippling with the heat of the room.

You knelt below him, mouth watering.

“You sure, sweetness?” Keigo asked, giving you a last chance.

“Very, please, let me make you feel good,” Your voice nearly broke. 

It was all the confirmation you needed.

 Nimble fingers pulled down the front of his boxers, cock springing up, pearly and wet on the head.

He was curved and thick, darker in the head with a bit of well-groomed blond trimming patched around the base. His balls were fattened, swelling with need and hot to the touch.

Part of you wanted to make a joke, crack some line about how ‘excited’ Keigo was, but your bodily reaction was far louder.

You thumbed at the head of his cock, biting your lip as Keigo tossed his head back, cursing under his breath. 

You wanted to hear more of him breathing your touch, you had to.

Leaning forward, you licked away the preek before spitting back onto his cock.

 Keigo had to be fucking dreaming because his cock was in your mouth and you were doing so well.

He babbled out sweet praises as you swallowed around him, twisting your wrist and the base and bobbing your head. You always felt so good, but this was a new kind of good, the kind that made his balls tighten and head light.

“W-woah, dove,” He could feel how close he was as he buried a hand in your hair. “Slow down—” 

You pulled off his cock was a pop, looking up at him with tear-pricked eyes, “Don’t you wanna come down my throat, Kei’?”

He audibly whined, stroking a finger down the softness of your cheek with a slow nod. 

Like that, you were licking up the underside of his cock, pulling him back into your mouth.

His hands tangled into your hair, not pulling too much or too hard, only bracing himself on you as you dragged him closer and closer to the edge. 

Keigo reached a gasping end as your nose brushed against his navel, painting your throat white in ecstasy and god, did you let him. His wings stretched and puffed outwards, shuddering and twitching with his high as he choked out a moan against his clenched fist. 

Your nails left crescent indents on his hips as he pulled you off his cock, drool and spittle dripping from him and off of your own chin.

You were certain you looked fucked out and fuck, did you feel it.

Blinking up at him with teary eyes, you cracked a wide smile. 

“Dove, you’re so good,” Keigo dropped from his knees to smother you in the best possible way. “So, so good.”

He meant it.

He peppered your face with kisses, wiping and licking away any spare spit that stickied your chin. There was so much care in his actions, considering how fucked out he was and filthy the two of you were.

Not that either of you minded.

Keigo had you on your back again, surrounded by softness, as a brief reprieve.  

“How was that?” You asked cheekily. “Feeling good?”

“So good, dove,” Keigo sighed, lowering himself against you. “That being said, could I help make you feel good?

You swallowed, assessing yourself. 

Your panties were soaked, thighs sticky beneath your shorts. You knew you were ambiently squirming for a fucking crumb to satisfying your craving and need for touch, for him.

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, something akin to relief rushing through you. “Please.” 

 Keigo didn’t need to be told twice.

His head spun, pleasantly love-drunk in all the best ways. With you splayed out below him, heat singing in your cheeks and heat at the surface of your skin wherever his fingertips drifted.

“Get comfy, dove,” Keigo pushed lightly on your sternum, encouraging you back into the plushness of the nest. He allowed himself a moment to compose himself, trying to calm the tremble in his hands.

Maybe he was a little... nervous. 

Not for any good reason. He knew his own prowess, and he was confident that he could easily make you come undone in any number of ways.

The anxiety tied up in his gut and his own perked up arousal made his palms go clammy.

The source of it all was also splayed out before him.

It was you, and that made this feel a hell of a lot more important than any of his previous trysts. 

He was stumbling. 

 You noticed.

Keigo’s jaw tightened visibly, and he chewed at his lip— 

All he needs is a little push.

 An idea formed in your head. 

“Hey, Keigo? Can we try something?”

“Anything,” His gaze refocused, alight and rewarming. 

And, God, was his voice fucking desperate and dripping with something hot and infectious.

You stopped your hand at the waistband of your sleep shorts, sinfully soft and thin. 

With a shaking breath, you cracked “I-I know I could get overwhelmed, but I trust you, you know? I love you.”

Your breaths hitched in time with each other. 

“I love you too,” Keigo’s exhale matched yours, hands finding their home on your hips, “So much.”

The words had a lot in them for how new they were, and you only wanted more held in each syllable.

And preferably, something stuffing your cunt. 

You bit your lip, sliding your hand closer to your aching sex, silently praying you’d get your words right.

“Tell me what to do.”

There was a moment of quiet as you tore your gaze from Keigo and you immediately cursed yourself.

“I-I mean–” You tried to backpedal. 

Keigo was quick to hush you with a kiss, something deep that made you shudder. 

“Elaborate,” As he pulled away, he stayed close, thumbing at your burning cheeks, “How far do you want me to take that statement, dove?”

“Like...” You kept your confidence as strong as you could. “Tell me how to touch myself.”

Keigo was silent for a moment, a shaking breath dripping from his lips as his feathers in all their places practically writhed. 

“Gladly.” 

 Keigo pulled himself together, despite how weak-kneed he felt. His breath out over the back of your neck, his words curling against your ears as he watched your hand linger near your neglected cunt.

Pity.

“First, shorts off.”

You nodded, wiggling out of the soft fabric with Keigo’s help, though he made sure to keep your panties on. Ideas were spinning in his skull, too many, probably, but it wasn’t too hard to narrow down particular pleasures that you obviously needed.

The vulnerability of it all made your insides twist.

How long had it been since you were this bare with another person...

A while.

You had to be gentle with yourself.

And Keigo needed to be soft with you. 

He pulled you from your thoughts with a coo, tracing little nonsense shapes on your stomach from between your parted thighs. 

“Dove,” Keigo dripped something that made your insides boil. “Touch yourself a little for me. Just over your panties, tease yourself. I want to see you .”

You keened in the back of your throat, going to mush in his arms as two of your fingers traced over the wet patch on your panties. 

(Keigo mentally stored that you got off on being told what to do, suppressing the way his eyes wanted to roll back into his skull and ignoring the way his dick switched..)

One of his broad hands ran over your hips, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he coaxed you onto your back. 

It was more vulnerable for you like this, almost entirely exposed to him, but in the lowlight and softness of the room, it wasn’t nearly so intimidating.

It helped that within moments, your lips caught his, a moan muffled into his mouth.

As you broke apart, Keigo tugged at the elastic of your panties, “You’ve already gotten these pretty messy, hm? Let’s get them off.”

They followed your shorts onto the floor. 

Keigo let his wings do as they pleased as he took you in, watching your expressions, feeling your breath and heartbeat with each twitch of your body. 

It was like putting together some divinely crafted puzzle.

He meant it, ‘learning you’, and your suggestion of guiding your own getting off was the perfect time to sample your pleasures, mutually.

 You pulled Keigo from his thoughts with a kiss, snaking out a hand to grab his, and pressing it between your thighs.

“Oh? You want me to show you now?” Keigo murmured against your lips, tracing patterns on your thighs.

“P-please.”

Keigo clicked his tongue, eye half-lidded, “You know, I could get used to you begging.” 

Any retort died on your lips as he slid two fingers up and down your slit, stopping to roll and circle your clit.

Pleasure burned across your insides in the best way.

You’d craved his touch in this way for so long, why had it taken so long to let him touch you like this?

Maybe, the barest bits of your quirk activated as he rose from your side to slide down your body, little kisses and touches in your wake. Your mouth filled with sweet cream and cinnamon as you caught his gaze, burning and doughy all at the same time.

One of his fingers crooked into your cunt and you swore you saw stars and sweet fruits from that alone.

“Oh, good, dove, let it out,” Keigo’s voice felt too sweet, perfectly, as he kissed your thighs, heating you through and through. 

It was all so tender, you could feel stray tears leaking down over your temples. 

When was the last time someone touched you like this?

(Never.)

Keigo was supposed to be fast and frizzy, but nothing about the way he licked your cunt was even close to that. He was supposed to be flighty, but with the way he laid between your thighs, sucking at your clit and stretching you on his fingers, he was anything but. 

Your hand buried in his hair, your ground against his face, thighs squeezing his cheeks. The heat of it all burned you in the best way, singed you with syrupy fire that you’d wholly let consume you. 

“K-Keigo!” Your voice shattered as he massaged at your insides in time with the stroking of his tongue. 

You’d thought he’d tease, but he was enjoying this as much as you were, wrapped up in it all.

With your eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t see the way his wings wrapped around and hid the two of you from the world. You couldn’t see how he’d shift his gaze to your slack jaw and watery eyes, all fucked out and open-mouth. 

Each sensation of you around him, in the comfort of the little nest you’d made together, made him wild.

Keigo had wondered briefly, how love worked, considering he didn’t know much about it. Not beyond what he’d seen in movies and books, or the fragments of it from his own upbringings. None of his old flings ever held anything close to how he felt towards you. 

Love was different than all of what he knew, which is probably what made it so easy. 

He had a blank slate to etch with you, and god, if he wasn’t excited.

And only a piece of that was the way he fucked his fingers into your cunt, the wet sounds mingling in his ears with your high moans and little pleads. He could feel you fluttering around his fingers, practically pouring into his mouth.

He drank each drop of you down.

 It was all so good—

Too good. 

Each touch was like sweet flames, pouring down your throat to your toes and cunt, stirring you up and never letting you settle. Keigo’s tongue and touch were heaven, sweet relief and addicting in every way.

Except when the embers became too hot, burning you instead of warming you. The honey in your mouth went stale and the cinnamon singed like broken glass.

You’d passed over your threshold.

It happened so suddenly, you felt like you were drowning. Your moans choked in your throat, stuffed with wet wool. You grappled with sensation, eyes going wide as your chest began to heave. Burning and floating, you threw your arm over your eyes.

You tried to take a deep breath, but all of the sensation flowing through your fried body weighed too heavily to be fought through. 

“W-wait, stop.”

...

Everything had already gone still.

Keigo was far too perceptive and sensitive to let you slip too far.

“You’re okay, we can stop, whatever you need,” Keigo rose, pulling a stray blanket over you as he scrambled for other ways to comfort you.

 You reached down, shaky and teary, “N-no more, please, can I hold you?”

Any sort of barriers of shame or reluctance were gone, now that you were fried through and through. 

Keigo was at your side in a moment, carefully tucking you into his side after some insistent tugging at his biceps. 

“I’ve got you,” He hushed you, pressing his wet lips over your damp crown. “Big breaths.”

“Uh-huh,” You clung to his words, sucking down his scent of sweat and comforting spices. “Big breaths. 

Keigo rubbed your back and shoulders as firmly as felt right, resting his chin over your head as you shook against him.

“I promise, I don’t get overstimulated this much,” You whispered in his chest. “This is ridiculous.

“You’ve had a long day, dove,” Keigo reminded you with a laugh. “The fact that you almost came is impressive.”

“... You could tell I was close?”

“Of course. I love you, dove, you know?” Keigo breathed, almost soundless, mostly to himself. “I gotta know that kind of stuff. 

But, the room was too quiet and far too still for the words to not to be noticed. 

“I love you too,” You kissed the underside of his chin, the stubble still sticky with you. Maybe it was a bit gross, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. With your own light giggle, you shook your head. “I can’t believe my quirk edged me.”

Keigo’s chest rumbled for a moment before he squeezed you, hard, busting into a full fit of laughter that you couldn’t help but join. 

And it felt so good.

The last spinnings of your quirk faded as you caught your breaths, Keigo’s airy giggles tickling your nose and sending trailing touches at the base of your spine. 

As you caught a glimpse of his bare, dewy chest rising and falling and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen stretched across his lips, you decided you’d do anything to keep it there whenever you could.

A mission of goodness, as pure and idealistic as it was. 

Neither of you minded. 

You both rested, for however many moments, until you both were able to shift, still leaning into each other, but rising up in your nest. 

You wore a sheepish smile as you tucked a bit of Keigo’s unruly waves from his face, “Wanna try that again sometime?” 

He went literally soft, leaning into you. 

“Anytime,” Keigo kissed your wrist. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“So you say.”

“And I’ll keep saying it—” 

Keigo’s hands squeezed your thighs as he pounced, pushing you back into the sheets, pressing kiss after kiss to your salty cheeks, wings fluttering above the two of you.

It was all perfect, truthfully and truly.

The way you spent the rest of the night held by each other, not as heated as before, but still, just as safely and comfortably. Over a bit of takeout, an endless amount of banter and laughter, and a goodnight’s sleep, you were both feeling miles better than the days and hours before.

It was all as perfect as it could get, between the two of you. 

(But, perhaps, the inevitable details would come into play. Perhaps.)

 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 Keigo felt refreshed for the first time in months when he arrived at his agency the next morning.

He’d gotten to wake with you slowly for once, what a fucking treat, he was sure he’d never tire of it with you pressed again him. After some rolling, early morning kisses, he packed up his things and tucked you back into the nest of sheets to rest as much as you needed.

You’d been quick to drift off, a few of his stray feathers staying close by even in your slumber. 

Despite how energized he was, he was sipped on the canned coffee (had it always tasted this bad?) and preparing for his office day. 

He waved to his interns, smiling something real with a pep in his step as he entered his seldom used office. 

As Keigo organized himself, he practically had to dust off his far-too professional looking desk before setting his bag down, and starting up his computer.

The door clicked open moments later, and a ruffled-looking Akane gave him a stern look from the doorway.

“Hello, Hawks. I need to talk to you—” 

“Paperwork will be done by noon, don’t you worry about that,” Keigo laughed off her oblivious irritation as he clicked into his desktop. “I know taking a personal day isn’t really my thing— “

“It isn’t, and this isn’t about your paperwork.”

She reached behind her to click the lock in place.

Keigo’s gaze drifted to the diamond insignia on her breast pocket, almost twin to the one he wore on his bodysuit.

Both wards of the same beast, one could say.

When he was younger, still being trained so ruthlessly, they assigned him ‘handlers’, like some sort of animal. Once he’d gotten his own agency, he’d been assigned Akane, raised and trained in a similar way he had been. Another product of a failed system and an opportunistic, greedy power structure.

They understood each other in that way. 

“I said I needed to talk to you two days ago and I meant it,” Akane sighed, shaking her head and approached his desk. “I’ve managed to cover you so far, but I need an answer.”

“...About?”

It wasn’t like her to be cryptic.

Akane fished around in her side bag for a tablet, clicking it to unlock and tapping.

“I know there are things you do that the bosses don’t even tell me about, and that’s how I justified all of this, continually.”

She placed the tablet in front of Keigo, an image displayed and glowing. 

His eyes went wide when he saw the picture.

It was him, flying to your balcony. It was late, the warm glow of the nearby streetlights half-illuminating his face, even from far away.

Akane scrolled to another picture, much the same, except taken in daylight. 

Keigo bit the inside of his lip to keep on his plastic smile as Akane scrolled through picture after picture, all of him coming and going from your apartment.

A pit was growing in his stomach. 

“We’ve been paying tabloids off, blacklisting folks. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate and have been particularly distracted, so I put it on work we aren’t allowed to know about. Still, I wanted some confirmation.”

Keigo’s heart dropped like lead slick with mercury in his chest, a poison feeling spreading over his gut— 

“It didn’t seem right though. And then I got some confirmation with this one— “

The next picture made him burn. 

“It’s  from yesterday morning.”

Yesterday morning.

From the balcony window, the early light was perfect to see directly and clearly into your apartment.

It captured Keigo kneeling on the floor, wings slack and resting on the floor, softened with a concerned quirk in his lips. 

He held your forearm in his, pressing an obvious kiss to the back of your bandaged hand. 

And then there was you.

You.

Teary-eyed, even in the photo, haggard and tired, but still obviously looking at him with love that made Keigo break in his ribs. 

“We caught this one last night. Your publicist is pissed, but I covered for you. That being said, I need an answer. I’m not blind.”

His mouth went dry.

“Who the hell is that, Hawks?”

...

The two of you hadn’t talked about this yet.

The publicity of your relationship, if and when, was something that had been alluded to, but never deeply conversed about. There was too much glowing new love and healing being done to worry about the details.

But now, the details were staring him in the face.

Thank god for his training, and his ability to keep his expression even.

“Sorry about all that!” He laughed, leaning back and propping up his feet. He pushed away the tablet with the toe of his boot. “Just some work and play for a mission. It’s been getting a little... interpersonal, if you know what I mean.”

He wiggled an eyebrow to really sell himself.

 Akane met his express with a dry glare. 

“... And you took a personal day for that?”

An incongruence. 

Keigo kept on his sickly smile as Akane sized him up.

“Had to be nonchalant, right?”

He was coming to hate lying, after being so intimately around your candor. 

The feeling of illness in his chest grew.

Sentiment was terrifying.

“... Right,” Akane ran a hand through her hair before taking back the tablet. “I won’t say anything, and I’ll tell your publicist to keep doing what she’s doing. Just try to be less obvious about all of this... ‘interpersonal work’.”

She wasn’t convinced.

Maybe Keigo had become a shittier actor, or maybe Akane had just come to know him too well.

Akane fished around in her bag, pulling forth a small piece of folded paper. She placed it on his desk, and slid it until it bumped his boot.

“Just in case you’re interested, these are the names of the photographers responsible. Do with that what you will.”

She gave him a darkened look as he sat up, unfolding the note and taking in the names.

They wouldn’t be hard to find, if needed. 

“Thank you, Akane. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

She turned to leave, but paused, hand hovering over the door handle.

“Hawks?” Her voice went more gentle than he was used to. “I mean it, I won’t say anything. To anyone. Just... whoever they are to you, be careful, alright?”

Akane’s gaze drifted back to his, a sharpness there that she’d been hiding. 

Knowingness.

Despite the smile he still managed to wear, his must’ve looked quite grim as Akane left his office, leaving him in the almost silence with plenty to stew over. 

+++++

💕 tipjar 💕

+++++

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[sankyeom]

lullaby | j.b

pairings: jacob bae x reader genre: neighbour au, strangers to lovers, kind of implied that you both are in college summary: in which your new neighbour sings you to sleep every night since the walls in your building are so thin, and you fall in love with his voice word count: 5.4k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration note: yes i’m in love with jacob’s a to boyz video. yes it inspired this fic. yes i’m going through it.

masterlist

When your old neighbour moved out, you couldn’t be happier at the news.

The girl living in the apartment next to yours used to blast her music late at night and into the early morning, and she always kept you up. Sometimes she did it just for fun, other times she did it to overpower the sound of her arguing with her boyfriend. Either way, you would be up at night wanting nothing more than to go over to your neighbour’s apartment and break her door down as a form of revenge.

But you didn’t, because you quite liked your apartment and didn’t want to give your landlord a reason to kick you out.

Instead, you and your other neighbours filed enough noise complaints to the building’s owner until the girl moved out on her own accord. If you had to pinpoint the worst three months of your life, it would be the time when that girl lived next door to you.

Of course it wasn’t entirely her fault; your apartment building had hilariously thin walls. Her music wasn’t the worst thing you had heard through the walls, but it was certainly the loudest and most consistent thing that bothered you.

For a few weeks, the apartment next to yours was vacant, and you were able to relish in the silence that you had been dreaming about for so many gruelling nights. One afternoon after you came home from your day of classes to find the elderly lady who lives a few doors down for you peeking outside her front door.

“Hi Mrs Kim,” you greeted her with a wave. Her eyes flitted over to you and she offered you a smile. Mrs Kim was your favourite neighbour by far. She always brought you treats when she made too many and made sure to check in on you regularly since you lived alone.

“Hi dear,” she waved back, eyes crinkling as she realised it was you.

“What are you up to?” you wondered.

“I’m just spying on your new neighbour,” Mrs Kim informed you, stepping out of her door frame to speak with you.

You sighed. “Another neighbour?” you echoed, craning your neck to see them move in.

If they were interesting enough to peak Mrs Kim’s interest, you wanted to see them for yourself. Alas, all you could see were boxes and bags piled outside the open front door of the apartment next to yours, the new tenant nowhere in sight.

“I was just getting used to having some peace and quiet around here,” you recalled as an afterthought, wincing at the memories of your last neighbour. Although you had no personal issues with her, you were glad to see the self-absorbed music-blaster go.

“I know dear,” Mrs Kim gave you a sympathetic smile, thinking back to how tired and cranky you were a while back. “But he looks kind,” she offered. “He greeted me very nicely and he even has a guitar! How wonderful.”

“A guitar?” you repeated, frowning. “Not electric, I hope?”

Mrs Kim laughed. “Don’t worry so much, Y/n,” she told you, patting your shoulder in an endearing manner. “He was quite handsome.”

You rose an eyebrow. You had been at the hand of Mrs Kim’s attempted set-ups many times before. “And that’s my cue,” you laughed, saying your goodbyes to Mrs Kim and making your way to your apartment. As you took your keys out and started unlocking your door, curiosity got the best of you and you tried to peer into your neighbour’s apartment for a sign of him. “What are you doing,” you muttered to yourself, scolding yourself for invading your new neighbour’s privacy and entering your apartment.

You awoke from your nap to the sound of music.

“Not again,” you groaned, thinking it was your new neighbour in your sleepy state. Soon, you realised that it was just your phone ringing, and felt a little guilty for immediately blaming your neighbour without even meeting him once. “Hello?” you picked up the call.

“Y/N!” your best friend Changmin yelled into your ear.

“Dude,” you groaned. “Why are you using your outdoor voice?”

“This is my indoor voice,” Changmin exclaimed, surprised that you had found him so loud. “You act like you don’t even know me.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you mumbled, putting your phone on speaker just to get it away from your ear. “What’s up? You woke me from my nap.”

“Mrs Kim told me that you have a new neighbour,” Changmin said casually.

You narrowed your eyes at your phone. “When did you talk to Mrs Kim?”

“I saw her at the convenience store,” Changmin happily informed you. “She said she’d give you some brownies for you to pass on to me in the next few days.”

You laughed at this. “How can you charm everyone around you, including the old ladies that live on my floor?”

“Never mind that,” Changmin dismissed. “New neighbour? What’s he like?”

“I don’t know,” you got out of bed to draw your curtains, letting what was left of the sunset brighten your room. You had fallen asleep while studying, and thus hadn’t set an alarm. “I haven’t met him yet.”

“Mrs Kim says he’s cute.”

“Mrs Kim says everyone is cute,” you scoffed. “That woman is a saint.”

“Alright, that’s fair,” Changmin giggled. “Why are you napping this late? You won’t be able to fall asleep tonight if you nap for so long.”

“I know,” you hummed, stretching out and relishing in how relaxed you felt after your nap.

Your best friend was right, though. Whenever you napped in the late afternoon, you always struggled to fall asleep again that night. Of course, this wasn’t a problem when your monstrous neighbour blasted her music every night anyway, but once she left naps and a good night’s sleep were finally possible for you.

“Maybe my new neighbour will play me a lullaby on his electric guitar,” you joke.

“He has an electric guitar?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Mrs Kim says he carried a guitar into his apartment. I haven’t heard him play yet so I don’t know what kind. But I’m delighted to hear it.”

Changmin snorted. “Really?” he asked in disbelief, having been on the end of some rants about you possibly kidnapping your previous neighbour and threatening her to move out.

“Sure,” you exclaimed. “As long as he plays it during hours of the day where I want to be awake, I have no problems what-so-ever with a little rock and roll.”

“Hilarious,” Changmin said sarcastically. “Anyway, did you finish your Chemistry study guide?”

“Is that why you’re calling?” you wondered. “Pretending to be curious about my new neighbour just to steal my hard work and Chemistry notes.”

“You caught me,” Changmin said happily, no shame in his voice. “So?”

You flipped through your notes to see where you go up to before falling asleep. “Yeah I finished them. I suppose you want my Econ notes when I’m done with them too?”

“Forget Mrs Kim, you’re the real saint,” Changmin said in lieu of an answer.

“No need to butter me up, I’ve already agreed,” you rolled your eyes, grinning at your best friend’s antics. “I’ll text you pictures later.”

Once you said your goodbyes, you made your way into the kitchen to turn on the kettle for a hot drink before wandering back into your room to search for a sweater. Once your water was boiled, you made yourself a drink and snuck back into your bed to burrow under the covers and finish studying.

As you took a sip of your drink and flipped through your Economics notes, you heard the faint timbre of an acoustic guitar. Pausing, you stopped your actions and sat up straight, as if this would amplify the sound more so you could hear it.

You guessed your new neighbour didn’t have an electric guitar after all.

The warm chords that you could make out were soothing and whimsical, and you allowed yourself to get lost in your neighbour’s playing for a moment. Deciding that it would make good background study music, you set aside your headphones in favour of listening to your neighbour play his guitar.

Soon, you were already finished with your Economics study guide so you snapped a few pictures of them and sent them to Changmin, along with your study guide for Chemistry too. A quick glance at the clock told you that you had been studying for an hour and a half after napping, meaning that your neighbour was persistently playing for just as long.

Just as you started considering what movie to watch to kill time so you could feel tired enough to go to sleep, soft singing started to accompany the guitar playing coming from your neighbours’s apartment. His voice was rich and tender at the same time; filled with emotion and lyrics close to a mumble in terms of enunciating. Something about his voice made your heart flutter, just slightly. If you thought he was a good guitar player, you thought he was a phenomenal vocalist.

Rather than watching a movie, you tucked yourself into bed and went on your phone to scroll through social media for a while, just listening to the sound of your neighbour’s voice and the music he was playing.

It didn’t take long before your eyes started to feel heavy; lulled to sleep by the timbre of your neighbour’s voice and the warmth of the covers on your bed. Thanking your past self for already setting your alarm for your classes the next day, you were soothed into a deep sleep despite the fact that you took a lengthy nap that afternoon.

The next morning, you felt as though you had never slept so well in your entire life.

Your bed was almost impossibly cosy and you had to seriously motivate yourself to get out of bed and head to your lectures for the day. After getting ready and dressed for the day, you wrapped a scarf around your neck to fend against the biting cold autumn air. As you exited your apartment, you couldn’t help but linger your gaze on your neighbour’s door, wondering if he was still inside or if he had already left.

“He’s gone,” you yelped as Mrs Kim’s voice startled you out of your stare. She stood as if she hadn’t scared you, unfazed by your reaction. “He left two hours ago.”

You put a hand on your chest in an attempt to calm its erratic beat. “Mrs Kim,” you greeted. “You scared me.”

Mrs Kim ignored you, smirking knowingly at you. “So you saw him then?” she assumed. “You must have, if you’re looking at his door like you want him to come out of his apartment.”

“I didn’t see him yet, Mrs Kim,” you denied with a small smile. “I was in my apartment all night and I’m only just leaving now,” you added.

“Then why’re you staring?” she asked, bending down to pick up her cat from the floor.

“Just curious,” you said, which wasn’t entirely a lie. You wanted to know exactly who had sung you a lullaby that was so sweet it put you right to sleep. “Is he really that handsome, Mrs Kim? Not only did you tell me but you told Changmin about it too.”

“He’s very handsome,” Mrs Kim insisted, pushing a container into your arms with her free hand. “Speaking of your charming friend, that’s for him.”

The container had cut up brownies in it, and you almost laughed at how well Changmin and Mrs Kim got along. “Thank you Mrs Kim, I’ll be sure to give them to him today,” you promised, making your way down the hall and rushing to the bus stop so that you wouldn’t miss the last bus that would get you to college on time.

Somehow, it felt as though your new neighbour was avoiding you.

Either that, or the two of you just kept missing one another. Any time you had to leave, you could still hear him milling around his apartment. The only times you ever heard his front door open was when you were just getting home, or had no intention of leaving. Even Changmin, who was a social butterfly and constantly fluttered in between your friends’ places, never saw your neighbour when he came by to visit.

Without a fail, your neighbour played the guitar and sang every single night.

Sometimes he would play during the day as well, but he only ever sang at night. You assumed that he figured he could sing at night so that nobody else heard him, unaware of the paper-thin walls that separated your apartments. You wondered if it was because he was being courteous, or if he was just shy about singing when other people could hear. Either way, you definitely credited your neighbour to being the reason that you fell asleep peacefully every night.

You never had trouble falling asleep in general, but you mostly had very restless nights of sleep, even in the complete silence you heard when your neighbouring apartment was vacant.

Something about your neighbour’s voice just relaxed you to the point where you slept like a little baby.

The first time you met the owner of said voice, you were running late for class and cursing Changmin on the phone as he laughed at your misfortune. He had been teasing you all week about a presentation you were nervous about, saying that you were so well-prepared that the only thing that could mess it up was you missing the class entirely.

Then your alarm didn’t go off and you woke up half an hour later than you usually would on that day.

“Ji Changmin, you’re an ass,” you fumed, pulling your coat on as you opened the front door of your apartment. “You must have cursed me or something, or at least you spoke it into existence. I don’t know but if you don-“

“I’m so sorry!” a familiar voice exclaimed upon your impact with another body. Two hands reached out to steady you and prevent you from falling over, and your eyes met those of a brown-eyed man.

A beautiful, beautiful, brown-eyed man.

“Are you okay?” he asked, since all you had done since the two of you collided was stare at him. “You’re not… concussed, are you? Can you get concussed by bumping into someone?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed out, taking in his sharp features and large, kind eyes. “I’m sorry. That was definitely my fault, I was rushing, and yelling at my friend,” you tried to explain, but were interrupted when he laughed.

“No harm done,” he assured you, a shy smile appearing on his face. “I’m Jacob. I just moved in next door, actually,” he introduced himself.

Jacob. Mrs Kim was right, he was very handsome.

“Hi Jacob,” you replied, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m-“

“Y/n, right?” he stated. At your surprised expression, Jacob only shrugged. “I talked to Mrs Kim from a few doors down. She told me all about you.”

“Oh gosh,” you laugh, covering your face with a hand. “I hope not everything. She’s seen me at my worst, let me put it that way.”

“All good things,” Jacob assured you in his velvety voice. “She speaks really highly of you. Says that you’re smart, kind, and that you have great taste in friends.”

You grin. “Ah, yes. My best friend seems to have charmed his way into her heart. That’s why he gets brownies in a Tupperware and I don’t,” you informed him. “I’m sure you’ll get there too.”

“I sure hope so,” Jacob nods. “I’m a terrible baker and brownies sound really good.” The two of you shared a laugh. “You said you were in a rush, right?” he seemed to recall, causing your eyes to widen.

“Yes! I need to run. I need to catch a bus, like,” you glanced at the time on your phone, realising how late you were and that you were still on a call with Changmin. “Twenty minutes ago.”

“Good luck,” Jacob smiled, waving at you as you said your goodbyes.

“Nice meeting you!” you called back to him, starting to jog down the staircase before bringing your phone up to your ear.

“Jacob, hm?” Changmin’s voice teased you.

“Watch it, Ji Changmin,” you warned. “You’re on thin ice already. Save me a seat!”

Other than being sung to sleep by him every night, your relationship with Jacob pretty much ended at your first meeting. The two of you always exchanged pleasantries when you passed each other in the hallway, and he had once informed you that he really had reached brownie-level friendships with Mrs Kim, but nothing beyond that.

You couldn’t say that you were surprised, considering how the two of you had such different schedules and you kept missing one another, but you somehow felt a little disappointed.

It felt a little bit like the two of you already knew each other, as you heard him sing every single night; hearing the emotion and vulnerability in his voice with every song. But you knew nothing about each other.

After a particularly gruelling day of your Chemistry lab class, you dragged your feet up the stairs to your apartment, feeling utterly exhausted and worn out by your class.

Your lab partner was the absolute worst. He was one of those types that thought he knew everything better than you because he was a Chemistry major, and he belittled you about every single step in the lab. Most of what he was saying was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen to you because he was sure he was right.

Half a semester later, you had just gotten your midterm back and found out that you failed because the data from your experiments were incorrect, and your professor couldn’t give you full credit for any of your answers. Frustrated tears built in your eyes as you made you way to your apartment door, rummaging through your bag for your keys.

“This can’t be happening,” you whined when you realised that your keys were nowhere in your bag, and you had left them in your apartment that morning. “Seriously? Today of all days?” you exclaimed, wiping your cheeks to dry your tears as you headed for Mrs Kim’s apartment to see if she was home. You had entrusted her with a spare key to your apartment since you knew you couldn’t take care of it yourself, and becomes she was so close by.

Realising she wasn’t home, you trudged back to your apartment and sunk onto the floor, burying your face in your knees and letting out a sob. Your day had been mentally and physically exhausting enough without having to wait outside your apartment, in the cold autumn air, to anticipate Mrs Kim’s return so you could enter your apartment.

The door next to yours opened slightly, a soft, concerned voice calling out to you. “Y/n?” Jacob asked quietly, wondering why you were outside. When he noticed your crying, he immediately stepped outside and knelt in front of you. “Are you okay? What happened?” You could only sob in response, not having it in you to explain your situation to him. “Why are you crying?” sniffling, you managed to raise your head and point weakly at your front door.

“You’re locked out?” he guessed, earning a nod. “Okay, let’s go to my place,” Jacob offered you, holding his hand out to help you up. “I just made hot chocolate, and I have Disney Plus so we can watch something while you wait for Mrs Kim,” he paused when you didn’t say anything. “Technically, it’s not my Disney Plus account, but I have my friend’s password. He subscribed just to watch the Beyonce album film,” you laughed tearfully, which Jacob considered a success.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you admitted in a quiet voice, slightly raw from your crying.

“You? Bothering me?” Jacob exclaimed. “Never. Now c’mon. Our hot chocolate’s getting cold.”

Grateful for his kindness, you accepted his outstretched hand and let him pull you to your feet, gently ushering you into his apartment and closing the door behind you. He motioned for you to take a seat on his sofa and you did so, taking off your coat and scarf as you adjusted to Jacob’s warm apartment.

“Here,” he placed two mugs of hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of you, taking a seat on a sofa next to you but giving you some space. You mumbled a quiet thank you before sipping on the hot drink, savouring the way it warmed your insides.

Spotting his guitar leaning against the wall next to the TV, you cocked your head in curiosity to see what it looked like. It was made of a light brown, almost yellow, wood and looked like it was treasured by Jacob. Not only was it in perfect condition, it also looked like it had been used for years already. You silently wondered how long he had been playing it for. “Do you play?” Jacob asked, noticing where your eyes were looking.

Shaking your head, you told him that you didn’t. “You’re really good, though,” you complimented before you could realise what you were saying.

Jacob blinked at you, eyes wide and lips pursed in surprise. “Me?” he echoed. “You’ve heard me play?”

Feeling stupid, you only nodded, sipping more of your hot chocolate as an excuse to think about what you wanted to say. “Um, yeah. Walls are kind of thin around here.”

Jacob blushed. “I’m so sorry,” he apologised. “I play until really late at night most of the time. I even-“ he paused, realising you had heard him sing. “I even sing,” he whispered, eyes flitting to the ground as his cheeks reddened further.

“You’re really good,” you complimented. “At singing, too.”

Jacob shook his head. “It must be annoying.”

“Not at all,” you denied. “My last neighbour used to blast angry-girl rock music. Now, I have nothing against angry-girl rock music, but I do when it’s being played at an ear-splitting volume into the early hours of the morning. That’s annoying. Your singing… It’s more like a lullaby,” you finished your thoughts in a whisper, shy at your explanation.

“Really?” Jacob was shocked.

You hummed in agreement. “I’ve never slept so well in my life,” you admitted with a small smile.

“Oh,” Jacob sipped on his mug to stop a huge smile from taking over his features. After meeting Mrs Kim for the first time, he was intrigued to meet the person she was speaking so highly of. When he ran into you, he felt flustered and excited because you were even more stunning than he could have imagined from Mrs Kim’s description. “I’m glad I helped, then. Even though the idea of you hearing me is mildly humiliating.”

“What!” you exclaimed, louder than you had intended to. “Why would it be humiliating? Your singing is… I can’t even describe it with words. It’s beautiful, Jacob.”

“You think so?” he asked in a disbelieving tone. Your eager nod made butterflies flutter in his stomach. “Thank you. That actually means a lot.”

“You don’t seem to believe me,” you observed.

“I’m not that confident in myself, or my playing,” Jacob explained awkwardly. “I’m more the quiet type, so it’s not so easy for me to put myself out there when it comes to music. I want my music to mean something to other people, and it’s how I communicate best, so…”

“Well, I can confirm first-hand that you’re amazing,” you offered. “I might not be as great of a musician as you, so my compliment might not mean anything to you, but I really believe it.”

Jacob bit his bottom lip, deciding to nod in response to your words, too shy to say much else. You took his reaction as a sign that he didn’t want to continue the conversation anymore, so you focused your attention back onto your hot chocolate. “Do you want to watch a movie?” he offered.

“I would love to leach off of your friend’s Disney Plus account,” you agreed, referring to how Jacob ranted a little about his friend. Jacob grinned, getting up to hang your coat and scarf up for you before he turned the TV on.

Being with Jacob in a more casual state was more fun than you had expected.

Once the two of you warmed up to one another, you found that Jacob was actually really goofy and fun when he got comfortable with you. He made terrible puns about the characters in the film you decided on, and his laugh made you want to squeal because he was so adorable.

Halfway through your second movie, you had fallen asleep as a result of the hot chocolate that had deliciously warmed your body, and the exhaustion from your emotional day. When Jacob noticed, he took one of the throw blankets form his bedroom and gently placed it over your body, getting up from the sofa to let you stretch out and get some rest.

The few times you woke up after falling asleep, you were lulled back to sleep and relaxed by Jacob’s soothing guitar playing and singing. Despite being tired, you were awake long enough to be pleased that Jacob seemed comfortable enough around you to play for you while you were still in his apartment, instead of just waiting until you left.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Jacob’s sweet voice gently calling for you to wake up. After opening your eyes, you saw Jacob kneeling in front of you with a bright smile and ruffled hair. “Hi sleepyhead,” he greeted, handing you a cup of tea. You sat up, rubbing your eyes with one hand and accepting the mug with the other. “Mrs Kim came by to drop off your key,” Jacob said. “I texted her last night.”

“Thank you,” you replied, surprised that he had gone out of his way to contact Mrs Kim when you were an emotional wreck who had forgotten all about it.

“She also said to wake you before noon because you have classes in the afternoon and you hate rushing,” Jacob added in thought, passing your spare key from Mrs Kim over to you. “Seems a little ironic since you and I seem to only ever meet when you’re rushing.”

You laughed at this. “What can I say, you always catch me on a good day,” you joke. “But seriously. Thank you. You really helped me out last night, I don’t know how I can repay you.”

Jacob waved you off. “No repayment needed. I’m just happy to get closer to you after being your neighbour for over a month already.”

His large smile was one that you hoped you’d be seeing more of. “Has anybody ever told you that you’re an angel?” you wondered, resting your head on your hand as you observed Jacob’s face. The fluttery feeling in your stomach didn’t surprise you anymore, not after he had saved you the night before. “Like an actual angel. Now that I’ve gotten to know you better, I think I see your wings.”

A giggle escaped the man next to you. “I’ve actually heard that before,” Jacob admitted sheepishly.

“I’m not surprised,” you hummed, sipping on the warm tea Jacob made for you. “What time is it?”

“Just after eleven,” Jacob recited. “Do you have to get going?”

You nodded, finishing up your cup of tea. “I do, unfortunately. I have to go see my Chemistry professor and do some serious begging and grovelling.”

“Sounds rough,” Jacob gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well, I had a really good time last night.”

You smiled back easily, unable to hold it back. “I had a really good time last night too,” you assured him. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

“Stop,” Jacob laughed. “Don’t even think about it. I was happy to have you over.”

“I was happy to finally hear your playing in person,” you replied. “I only really heard it in and out of sleep, but I was still glad to hear it. Also,” you paused, unsure if you were going too far.

“Also,” he echoed, curiosity piqued.

“You said last night that you wanted your music to mean something,” you recalled. “It does mean something. To me, at least. It actually means a lot.”

“I think I can see those angel wings you’re talking about,” Jacob said. “Except they’re on you.”

“Very funny,” you laughed, getting up and finding your coat. “I really need to get going, though.”

“Okay,” Jacob nodded, walking you to the door. “I’ll see you around?” he offered, insecure that you wouldn’t want to spend more time with him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you corrected, flashing him a wink before you let yourself out. Jacob closed the door behind you and you let yourself sigh in delight, relishing in the evening you had together the night before.

“What are you doing walking out of your hot neighbour’s apartment?” you jumped, surprised by Changmin’s sudden presence at your front door. He held out a take-away cup of coffee for you.

“You scared me,” you told him, ignoring his comment as you accepted the coffee.

“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” Changmin scowled, following you into your apartment after you unlocked your door. “You came to school in those clothes yesterday. Did you hook up with your cute neighbour? Jacob?”

“You ask so many questions,” you complained, making your way into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. “No, I didn’t hook up with Jacob. I locked myself out and he graciously took me in for the evening, despite my emotional ugly-crying.”

Changmin laughed. “You would go stay at your hot neighbour’s house after having the crappiest day in the world,” he said, pleased at the outcome.

“Thanks, Changmin. Now I need to change so that I have enough time to beg our Chemistry professor to let me do extra-credit assignments so I don’t fail the class,” you added, feeling gloomy about what happened with your midterm the day before.

“Sure, sure,” Changmin nodded, taking a seat on your sofa and taking his phone out.

You made your way to your bedroom to change your clothes, going as quickly as possible so that you still had time to neaten your hair a little. When a knock sounded through your apartment, you called out to Changmin to open the door for you.

“Oh, hi!” you heard your best friend say in his usual chipper tone. “You must be Jacob! I’ve heard so much about you,” at the sound of Jacob’s name, you dropped your hair brush and rushed to the front door, where Changmin was smirking at your neighbour.

“Hey,” you greeted. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jacob assured you, glancing nervously at Changmin, who was still grinning at him.

“Could you give us a minute?” you asked Changmin, raising an eyebrow at his blatant eavesdropping. He sighed, sad that his fun was over, before he walked in the direction of your kitchen. “What’s up?” you smiled at Jacob.

He took a deep breath. “Would you want to get dinner some time?” he asked, tapping his foot as a nervous habit.

His question both surprised and delighted you. “Like a date?” you asked, hiding your smile.

“Like a date,” Jacob confirmed. “If you want.”

“I want,” you agreed, showing your smile. “I want a lot.”

“Great,” Jacob sighed, relieved. “I want a lot, too.” You giggled at how strange the two of you sounded.

“If you guys are going to start kissing, I suggest you do it now because we have to go,” Changmin called from the kitchen, ruining the moment.

Jacob pointed in Changmin’s direction. “He’s not coming to dinner, is he?” he asked.

You grinned. “Absolutely not.”

“How does tonight sound?” Jacob suggested. “Or is that too eager of me?”

“Just eager enough,” you assured him. “Pick me up at seven?”

“Sure thing,” he agreed, beaming as he stepped out of your doorway to go back to his apartment.

“I hope you don’t get lost on your way to my apartment,” you teased. “It’s awfully far from yours.”

“I’ll just follow the sound of your wings,” he called, waving before he disappeared into his apartment.

Dinner. You liked the sound of that.

note: second fic in my 2k celebration series!! i know that this fic and the last didn’t end with a kiss or a relationship but i still think the ending is cute, i hope it satisfies you!

[ahsokryze]

hi I’m back with another prompt bc the first prompt fill you did for me was so so good and I crave more!!!

Number 10 from the same prompts list please? I wanna know what the day before was like from the previous prompt I sent 🥺🥺🥺

thanks for the prompt! I kinda got carried away with this… // prompts now closed

10 - hair ruffles

(this is a prequel to this prompt fill)

~~~

"I'm cold, Master."

Obi-Wan lowered his binoculars, looking from the vast expanse of white in the distance over to the only figure amongst the vast expanse of white. Anakin, adorned in his light blue temple-issue winter parka, was standing several feet away, leaned slightly forward with his arms dangling in front of him, looking incredibly bored. Though he couldn't see Anakin's face through the buff he was wearing (the buff that Anakin had so far flat out refused to take off—even for eating and drinking—which, surprisingly, Anakin had somehow managed to do. Anakin. Ever so intuitive), Obi-Wan could tell that his former Padawan was dawning his oh so familiar "i'm bored" pouty expression. Obi-Wan didn't even have to look at Anakin to recognise that face.

"I know, Anakin. But we only have to keep surveying for a little while longer. It won't be too long until we can head back to the ship."

Anakin let out a disgruntled whine, turning around to kick at a mound of snow with his boot. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes with a sigh, lifting his binoculars. Oh Anakin...

"Ugghhh," Anakin grumbled. "We've been looking for hours, Obi-Wan, and there's clearly nothing here. No Separatists. No droids. No wildlife. Nothing. So can we please just go home now?"

"Anakin." Obi-Wan sighed. To be fair, Anakin wasn't wrong. They really had seen nothing all day. Not even any wildlife—though there could be creatures burrowed and living underground—but that wasn't why they were here. They were here to search for any indication of Separatist control on this planet.

"I admit that there is likely nothing here," he continued. "We will wait five more minutes. And if nothing changes, we can head back to the ship. Does that sound like a good deal, my impatient Padawan?"

"I'm not a Padawan anymore, Obi-Wan."

"Oh?” he said, lowering his binoculars. “Then why are you acting like one?"

Anakin crossed his arms with a defiant huff, turning away. Obi-Wan had to hold back a chuckle.

"Patience, young one."

"I have been patient," Anakin replied. "All day."

"Oh Anakin. I'm sure you can manage five more minutes?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Obi-Wan once again lifted his binoculars to scan the frozen, icy landscape ahead of them. After a few moments, he let out a sigh. There really wasn't anything here. Nothing but dunes of snow and ice, upon more dunes of snow and ice.

Obi-Wan lowered his binoculars to look at Anakin.

"Ugh,” Anakin muttered. “And I thought Orto Plutonia was cold..."

The younger man was repeatedly dragging his heel through a powdery section of snow on the ground. He was writing something, Obi-Wan realised. At a glance, it read: IM BORED. Obi-Wan let out a scoff, rolling his eyes.

"Having fun there?"

When Obi-Wan's playful question went unanswered, he put his hand on his hip.

"Anakin, watch your footing. That area looks quite icy."

"I am watching my footing."

"Now he speaks." Obi-Wan muttered. He received a glare in return.

Obi-Wan watched Anakin for a few more moments,  before turning round to scan the frozen wonderland another time. Snow. Snow. Snow. More snow.

"Master, look over here. I think I see something."

"What do you see?" Obi-Wan asked, turning back to see that Anakin was perched dangerously close to the edge of the ice river flowing close by, pointing at something Obi-Wan couldn't quite see amongst the rush of crystal blue water below.

"Look."

"Careful, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, watching how Anakin was crouched over a section of thinly veiled ice as he padded towards him. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure, I think it..."

"Anakin—"

"Ahh—"

There was a resounding thud. A sharp cry.

And Obi-Wan watched as Anakin slipped and slid down the side of the riverbank, submerging into the icy water below with a large splash.

"Anakin!"

—–—

"Come on, let's get you dried off."

Now safely back on the ship, Obi-Wan peeled the soaking-icy parka away from Anakin's shivering body, throwing it unceremoniously on the floor in a heap.

"Arms up."

Obi-Wan quickly stripped Anakin of his soaked layers, wrapping him up in a large blanket (they didn't have any towels so a blanket would have to suffice), and rubbing his arms and back in attempt to dry him off and warm him up.

Anakin shivered ceaselessly, even as Obi-Wan used the blanket to dry his dripping, icy hair, rubbing the sodden curls between the fabric in his hands, grimacing at the tiny ice crystals which had formed as a result of the cold. Once Anakin was mostly dry, Obi-Wan wrapped a new blanket around his former Padawan, handing him a spare set of tunics to change into—a beige set of tunics, to be precise.

"Sorry," Obi-Wan said. "They were the only ones I could find.”

"'s okay."

"Will you manage to get changed on your own?"

Anakin nodded, his teeth chattering.

"All right. I'm going to go start up the ship so we can leave this snowball, and then i'll come back to see about getting you warmed up."

Before he even gave Anakin the chance to reply, Obi-Wan swiftly rushed into the cockpit to start up the ship.

—–—

Watching the hypnotic swirl of hyperspace through the viewport ahead, Anakin sat in the co-pilot seat in the cockpit, bundled up in a cocoon made from all of the dry blankets on the ship. He was warmer now than he had been, yet he couldn't seem to stop shivering, feeling a deep chill lingering in his core.

With the sudden feeling of a hand ruffling through his hair, Anakin turned his head to find Obi-Wan kneeling by his side, a caring smile on his face.

"How are you feeling?"

Anakin let out a hum, shivering as he shrugged the best he could while wrapped in his blanket cocoon. Obi-Wan's brows drew in concern, placing his hand over Anakin's forehead.

“Are you still cold?” he asked. Anakin nodded.

“A little.”

“Come here.” Obi-Wan reached out and quickly rubbed Anakin’s shoulders and back, attempting to warm him up a little more. It seemed to work. Anakin’s shivering ceased. Even if it was just for a few minutes.

After that, Anakin slipped in and out of sleep as tiredness overcame him, soothed by the gentle thrum of hyperspace as their shuttle continued en-route to Coruscant. A few times, he woke up to the feeling of a warm hand on his forehead; his former Master intermittently checking his temperature, before he would drift off again, tranquillised by the endless blue and white swirl of hyperspace as they travelled across the stars.

“Anakin… Anakin, we’re home now.”

Anakin awoke to a soft voice willing him from sleep. A gentle hand stroking his hair.

“We just landed. We’re at the temple. Do you want to go inside now?”

Anakin slowly blinked, the image of his former Master coming into view. Obi-Wan was kneeling by his side, looking at him with a warm smile from outside the blanket cocoon he was still bundled up in. Anakin nodded sleepily.

“Come on then. I’ll take you back to your quarters.”

But, instead of heeding Obi-Wan’s words, Anakin didn’t so much as budge from where he sat, instead letting his eyes shut once again. His throat felt weird now, he noticed. It was all scratchy and yucky as he breathed in. And his nose was starting to run now too. He sniffed, but that only made everything feel worse.

“Anakin, are you going to move?” Obi-Wan whispered, lightly nudging his shoulder. “Or do you plan on staying in here all night.”

Anakin didn’t reply. Staying in here honestly sounded like a great idea. Yes, he was just going to stay here. He was comfortable right now. And the thought of having to leave his cosy little cocoon made him shiver.

Obi-Wan nudged him again. “Anakin.”

When Anakin still didn't reply, after a few moments, he heard Obi-Wan let out a quiet sigh. Then, he was being lifted up, and Anakin felt too tired to argue, already drifting back to sleep in his former Master’s arms.

—–—

Anakin awoke to find himself being tucked into his own bed. Obi-Wan was covering him with extra blankets, meticulously tucking the fabric in at his sides as if he were a youngling. Normally, Anakin would've complained, telling his former Master that he wasn't a youngling anymore—he didn't have to be tucked in.

But right now, Anakin couldn't bring himself to care. After all, it was making him feel all cosy and warm.

"Hey, Anakin," Obi-Wan whispered, seeming to notice his eyes were open. "We're back home now. I tried to wake you on the ship, but you didn't seem to want to move.”

Anakin blinked, slowly nodding. Obi-Wan gently smoothed back his hair, brushing away a few loose curls which had fallen into his eyes.

“Are you feeling okay?” Obi-Wan asked with a whisper. “Still cold?”

Anakin shrugged. When Obi-Wan didn’t seem to take that for an answer, Anakin sighed.

“Feel like…blegh.”

““Blegh”?” Obi-Wan questioned. Anakin nodded. ‘Blegh’ really did feel like the best way to describe how he was feeling. He didn’t feel terrible, but he also didn’t feel okay either.

“Oh, well, i’m sorry you’re feeling this way, Anakin.” Obi-Wan replied. “Though, I must point out, maybe there is some merit to listening to your old Master when he says “watch your footing”, hmm?”

“Was watching my footing.”

“Oh, clearly.” Obi-Wan deadpanned. “So you were watching your footing when you slipped and slid all the way into that ice river? Before I had to come and rescue you?”

Anakin rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan ruffled his hair.

“Why don’t you get some more rest, Anakin.”

Anakin let out a big yawn, his body already seeming to succumb to Obi-Wan’s words. Obi-Wan gently tucked the edge of his blanket under his chin.

“Goodnight, Anakin,” Obi-Wan whispered softly, placing a hand lightly on his head. Anakin felt the becalming surge of a sleep suggestion being pushed into his mind. His eyes fluttered closed. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

[writersrealmbts]

Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 5

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 02/11/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Angst/Fluff/Angst: 3,846 words

A/N: Okay, I told you guys that I would be alternating between DTLW and Clearwater Springs, so here’s the proof. Anyway, two more parts after this!

Your fourth home in five years is what they told you this was. But you couldn’t remember any but this one.

So your heart was aching, and you always wanted to cry, but you never dared to do so. Something, someone’s, words, telling you that crying in front of strangers was dangerous kept echoing in your head. So you blinked away any tears that came, hugged your stuffed animal, and studied the area you would lived in.

It was a little cold, so you hugged your coat tighter to you. You’d been told by the other fairies that your coat was special, because it appeared to be designed exactly for your wings, which was rare. But none of them seemed to have any idea why you would have such a special coat, excepting the fact that maybe in the country you came from it was more normalized to have custom wing-slits.

It was completely normal to come away from a home with a stuffed animal, and clothing and jewelry that could shrink down. People liked dressing up fairies.

You played with your bracelet as you examined the cement floor, and the plain white walls, and the windows that weren’t quiet fully insulated but were full east and full west, respectively, and provided quite a bit of natural lighting. You had your own bathroom and kitchen area, and the laundry room was in the basement. The bed was a bit creaky, but the mattress seemed decent. You had a cute lamp on the side table, and they had a few books for you on a bookshelf that had the bottom shelf broken beside the side table.

There was shoebox bedroom on one of the shelves as well, very simple, with just a bed in it, but it was decorated carefully—though perhaps by their daughter. There was felt covering the floor and back wall, which would provide a little insulation for you. The outside was colored on, but you didn’t have a problem with that.

There was an old rug rolled off to one side that they said you could use, and a bar with some hangers already hanging on it and plastic drawers they said you could used for your clothing.

You looked at your suitcase, which was resting on the bed, then set your dog on top of it while you got the rug, unrolling it and placing it near your bed.

Your job there was to do their laundry and take care of the cat that their daughter wouldn’t let them get rid of, and to entertain their daughter now and then, and when you weren’t delivering the clean laundry or entertaining their daughter you were to stay in the basement bedroom. Simple enough.

The cat was a sweetheart and the laundry was quite simple with only three people to wash for. Laundry was tossed down the shoot daily and every Monday and Thursday you were to deliver their clean laundry before they awoke.

They weren’t cruel, or strict, just very structured and busy.

She was very kind and brought you groceries, even getting you exactly what you requested. You just had to leave a list with her laundry on Mondays, because Mondays were grocery days. She even spontaneously bought you a cake, and when you told her that the basement was a little cold for you, she found a nice heater for you that greatly improved things, and found some more blankets around the house for you. They were generally gone over the weekends, visiting a different set of grandparents each weekend, which left you and Cupcake, the cat, alone in the house to do as you pleased.

Those were the days you ventured down to the fairy market, which was a safe space for fairies and since you did get an allowance for doing the laundry, you could sometimes buy some special treats or things that you needed.

You weren’t a fan of the husband, which was fine, because he only seemed to come downstairs if he needed to check the water-heater (they were having issues with it and he was too stubborn to call whoever it was that professionally dealt with those things), or to ask you to do an emergency clean on a shirt or tie or slacks. It wasn’t that he was mean, or sleazy, or that he gave you bad vibes, he was just very grumpy and brisk. Cold.

And he hated the cat.

Plus you had the distinct feeling that if he found out about your diamond tears it would be a very bad thing. He was a greedy man, raising a greedy daughter.

But you had a CD player now, and you could find CD’s now and then at the fairy market, and the wife said you could use any CD’s you found in the basement.

Which was how you found your current favorite CD. You weren’t certain who the artists were because the disc hadn’t been in it’s proper case, but their songs were so nice. And you loved the one song.

So some days, when you had nothing to do but give the cat all the love it wanted, you just listened to that CD on repeat, singing words as though you’d known them before.

You did different crafts, and solved some of the abandoned puzzles from the storage room.

You improved your shoe-box, replacing the bed (it was a sponge, hard and weird to lay on) with a carefully arranged nest of fabrics and stuffing. Sometimes you stuck your stuffed dog into the shoebox and snuggled into that. The smells on it so familiar and foreign that it made you cry.

Which meant you had to find a place to hide your tears. Normally you just saved them and exchanged them at the fairy market—where the currency exchange fairy, Heidrun, just discretely nodded and added their value to your shopping card balance.

But one day she stopped you before you could leave, holding your hands. “You don’t look well, dear.”

“Fourth home,” You told her simply, shrugging. “It’s more of a job than a home. But I’m not…I’m not suffering. She always makes sure I have what I need and allows me a lot of freedom. I have the whole basement to myself, and I’m allowed in the side-yard at all times. She even encourages me to come here. And I have music to listen to. Actually, I found a CD I really like, but I don’t know what band they are because it doesn’t say on the disc.”

“Try Magnus, he knows everything going on in the music scene,” She told you, squeezing your hands. “And trying to hold onto whatever love you’ve got and are getting. It’s not healthy for our kind to go unloved.”

You nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Magnus did help you, granted, you had to sing a couple of the songs for him to find the right group, but once he did, he sent to you over to Frida with a request for BTS albums.

Frida nodded, pulling out several book-like things. “They’re super popular, but they’re also in a ton a magazines right now. They lost their fairy because of some scandal, and now they’re in a slump, but they’re also going on a world tour, so it can’t be that much of a slump. They’re actually coming to our stadium for a concert, which is cool. They’ve started putting up the posters already.”

You looked at the books, confused. “I thought you said they were albums?”

“They are. The CD’s are accompanied by a booklet of photos and the lyrics, photocards, and usually a poster.”

You blinked then picked up the biggest one, concerned and confused. “It’s…huge…and a box?”

She just snorted. “You want that one? It’s one of their more recent ones. Don’t have their newest yet, but I can see if I can get one for you.”

You nodded. “That’d be nice, but sure, I’ll…take this one for now.”

She nodded and swiped your card. “All yours, sweet-cheeks. Now, tell me how you get your hair that shiny.”

You grabbed your hair and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just wash it.”

“Not even fair,” She muttered, then turned to a new customer.

You went home after hitting a few more stalls, getting more craft things and some stuff for the kitty, hugging the album and wondering what awaited you inside.

Cupcake was waiting for you on your bed, sitting up and meowing loudly, stretching out a paw for you to take (which you did because why else teach him that trick) and then purring and arching into your hand.

“I know, I was gone for forever,” You scooped him up after successfully setting everything else down. “I bought some new music for us. You need a better name. A masculine name. You don’t respond to Cupcake anyway—not that I blame you. It’s a rather poor choice of a name for a cat, much less a tom.”

He just purred, climbing up onto your shoulders and riding there while you put away the few food items you had purchased and hopping onto the fridge while you started cooking your dinner.

You hummed as you tried to think of a different name for him, but after a moment you paused, wondering what song it was you were humming and why it was so familiar and yet so distant. So easy, but you couldn’t remember. You couldn’t remember the moment you stopped singing what the words were or how the song went, despite having reached the chorus. You could only remember the last words you sang.

You shook your head and went over, quickly opening the box to where the disc was in the album without seeing any sign of the pictures (Maybe a poster?) and then popping it into the player.

But it was worse than the first one, because you swore you knew each song. You had vague images in your head of people performing the songs. It hurt. It hurt to hear these songs because they were too familiar. Too familiar and yet so completely foreign that it was unfair.

The first one wasn’t too bad, but the second started really getting to you.

By the third song you were in tears.

By the chorus of the fourth song you were full-on sobbing on the bed.

The fifth song clashed so much with the sentiments of the previous two that it just broke you down further, and you had to turn it off before you started screaming at the empty space where the music should have come from.

You grabbed the photos from the album box after you had calmed down enough. Not bothering to try and remove the sticker, you slide the photos out and started flipping through the pages, horrified at the fact that they looked so achingly familiar and yet you had no idea who they were.

You tossed them back in the box and slammed it shut, eyes filled with tears.

But you must not have woken when someone came into the basement, because three days later the man was demanding to know where you got so many diamonds.

And fairies can’t lie.

Five days later you were staring out the window, a place you couldn’t go until you filled the box on your small counter space with diamonds. It wasn’t too large, but it was large enough that you were worried about whether you would ever fill it.

So you turned on the disc again, and cried. Cried until you were sick, and then collapsed into your bed. Exhaustedly petting the cat until you fell asleep, only to repeat it the next day. And the next.

When you finally filled it, you went straight to the market just to get some time away from the basement.

The shopkeepers from your regular stops came rushing up when they saw you, even Heidrun, all asking where you’d been and if you were okay and before you knew it you were sitting at one of the picnic tables with some soup and some tea and a bunch of worried fairies fussing over you.

Frida sat silently across from you, looking concerned but ultimately staring at the table.

Or so you thought, because she suddenly reached across the table and grabbed your bracelet. “Where did you get this?”

You blinked and tried to recoil, but couldn’t. “I don’t remember. I just figured it was from one of my previous homes.

Magnus frowned, looking at it. “It looks a lot like the one that…”

She nodded. “There’s something etched onto them. Fairy craftsmanship. Come over to my shop. Come on.”

You followed her, curious, and not wanting to let something you had a very strong attachment to out of your sight.

First she tried a jeweler’s eye loupe, then she wrinkled her nose and grabbed a flashlight, shining it through the gems and onto the table.

You stared down at it, confused.

“Something tells me your family didn’t give you up willingly,” Magnus said, voice a little tense.

Frida looked at you, as though she couldn’t believe it. “You’re the fairy that was taken away from BTS?”

You just looked back at her. “Um…is that what all of that means?”

“How did you like that album you bought?” She asked, eyes narrowed to slits.

You shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about how much you had used it to make yourself cry, because if you did then you knew she was right. And if she was right, then it would be even sadder.

“Weren’t the one that said that they couldn’t have been too sad about losing their fairy to be going on a world tour? Why would I want to be her?”

“No, they talked about it…it’s because they’re trying to find her. Find you. They didn’t say it explicitly because they could get in trouble for that, but they’ve hinted at it and there are tons of reports and pictures of them visiting every fairy sanctuary they could without compromising their performances. It just took a while for it to hit the news for us. Y/n, they’re looking for you. And if this is any proof, I think they love you and you need love. You look like a skeleton with skin.”

Heidrun gently pulled you into her arms. “What changed? You were doing alright and then you were gone and you come back looking like a ghost.”

“They found my tears,” You whispered.

She inhaled sharply, not quite a gasp, and held you tighter. “You can’t stay there.”

“I can’t leave there either. Where would I go? I would just get arrested and brought back to them.”

Frida folded her arms. “Leave it to me. You go back, lay low. Maybe try to appeal to the lady of the house. I’ll have you out of there as soon as I can. In the meantime….”

“I’ve still got a backlog of your diamonds, come get them just in case he asks again.” Your arm was gently pulled toward the currency exchange station.

You took the bag, and the treats most of them packed up for you. If the love of other fairies was enough to sustain you, you never would have been in this mess. But fairies, while kind and caring, didn’t have enough love for other fairies to keep them alive, especially once exposed to the love of a family. Fairies were good, and kind, and helpful, but also emotionally unstable which made it hard to focus enough love into one another without a consistent source of outside love.

It was a miracle your species had survived as long as it had.

Cupcake greeted you, meowing pathetically and hopping into your arms.

You sat down on your bed with him. “Let’s think of a new name for you.”

Eventually you settled on Keyowo, which was close to his current name but meant friend and was just…it was better.

You then set to deep cleaning over the next week, shrinking your things and tucking them into your suitcase to keep them out of sight.

On Tuesday he beat you to tears because you weren’t producing tears fast enough.

The album caught your eye again on the next Friday.

You picked up, tracing the seven on the cover, and then opening it. You pulled out the poster and unfolded it.

They were in white, with feathers floating down and a hole in the floor. They all looked so good.

You touched the one on the far left, wearing the sweater. Slightly cat-like facial features. You felt like you knew what his hands looked like, even though you couldn’t see much of them in the picture. Slightly calloused, bony, but gentle and careful. Caring for everyone.

“Yoongi,” You whispered, choking up. Tearing up.

Your fingers traced over each of them, names a whisper in your mind. A whisper that turned into shouts, memories flooding your mind of each and every one of them. Your mind screaming for them because your throat was too tight to even whisper.

They were your boys.

They had to let you go.

You weren’t supposed to remember them.

They weren’t supposed to try and find you.

The next day you shoved everything into your bag, tucked the cat into your coat, left a note for the missus and headed straight back to the fairy market.

Frida looked surprised when she saw you. “Whoa, what happened? Is this the kitty your were telling me about?”

“They’re gone for the weekend, that means even if I stay nearby they’ll think I’ve had two days to run out on them. I need you to help me get me back to my family.” You teared up. “I need to find them.”

Frida nodded, glancing around and closing her shop. “Come on. You can stay with me.”

Frida’s family consisted of a pair of siblings.

The sister, Alena, was a fairy rights activist in her spare time, which is why Frida had so much freedom, and a huge music fan. She had a whole wall of CD’s and albums and posters. Stacks of magazines featuring musicians.

The brother, Agnar, was quiet, “just an accountant”, and very kind. And very affectionate toward Frida.

Frida was equally affectionate toward him, bringing a fake gag from Alena.

They helped you find an outfit that hid your fairy-ness, and he got you tickets to the concert, all of you hoping that it would get you close enough for them to see you and recognize that you were there. Also, it would help you health-wise to see them in person and the rush from the concert would be overwhelming, but also might revitalize you.

Then Alena forced you to sit in the bathroom with her while she applied a cloth to your face with epsom salts to try and reduce the bruising and swelling on your face. She told you about the fairy abuse responders, and how she would call them in the morning and tell them about your family.

Agnar totally stole your cat.

Frida let you sleep in her fairy-home (because it definitely wasn’t a dollhouse and it was awesome, of course).

Four days later, you were at the concert venue with Alena, taking a seat and soaking in the atmosphere. People were talking all around and some people were chanting the boys’ names. Another group was starting to sing the songs.

You listened nervously, wondering whether it was true or not that they were looking for you. What if they were just making a fuss to get back at the company a bit? What if the media was making things up? It wouldn’t be the first time a story was fabricated for magazines.

Then the concert started and you and Alena were cheering for your boys, but you wondered why you ever thought they’d be able to see you in this mess.

It wasn’t until the second half of the concert that you had hope.

The boys were in more casual outfits, having more fun.

And they were all wearing the jewelry that Namjoon had made from your diamonds.

Jimin was the one who saw you first, though he looked right over you and then seemed to try and pinpoint you again, but was unable to in the crowd. He stood there with a smile plastered on his face, acting as though he was studying each Army’s face when you knew he was searching for you.

So you stood still in the writhing mass that of the crowd, and studied him.

He had lost weight, and if it hadn’t been for the makeup, you bet he’d look fairly wrung-out.

All of them looked like they’d been sick enough to lose weight.

Taehyung came over and practically dragged him away (making it look playful).

But Jimin said something to Jin and Jungkook.

Jungkook was over there as casually as he could, totally looking at the camera and doing ‘fanservice’. But he obviously didn’t spot you.

Jin didn’t either.

But Yoongi did during the very last song and he stopped, staring, then he was crouched, hand over his mouth, just staring in your direction.

You waved, wondering if he actually was staring at you.

He smiled, but it also looked like he wanted to cry. He waved as well, then cautiously moved off, still keeping an eye on you.

You bit your lip, smiling.

Alena squealed and grabbed onto you, and the two of you did your best to fit in with the rest of the crowd.

Both of you lingered as long as you could afterward, her extremely hyped from the whole concert and talking a mile a minute, while you were feeling…exhausted? All of the emotions around you and finally seeing your boys again….

But you had no idea how you were going to get to them, or how they were going to get to you.

Until you saw Sejin, scanning the crowd.

The likelihood of him being on the side of the boys was pretty good.

You tugged on Alena’s arm, pulling her to a stop.

Sejin locked onto you and started moving, coming your way, waiting until the straggling fans that had been around you were gone before telling security to let you through.

You dipped your head to the security guards, then bowed slightly to Sejin. “Hello.”

Sejin smiled. “Hello, y/n.”

You bit your lip. “I remembered.”

He nodded. “I figured. We all figured. They’re waiting. They’re all waiting.”

You were practically vibrating.

“Come on, let’s get you back to them. Your friend can come but she needs to wait in the hallway for…security purposes.”

You nodded and relayed the information to Alena, then both of you were following back to the waiting room.

Sejin stopped by the waiting room. “Go on in.”

You nodded, putting your hand on the doorknob and then turning it and going in.

–

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Masterlist  -  ot7 Masterpost

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[fnf-brain-rot]

[Whitty x Boyfriend]

Chapter 5 - Let's just chill!

Boyfriend awoke with a bit of an issue in the.. south region..

He groaned, putting a hand on his head before sitting up. It hurt too. He was about to handle it when he felt a presence to the side of him.

Whitty was just standing there..

Staring..

The blue haired male screamed and threw himself off the other side of the bed, which only made Whitty blink and lean over to look. "Sorry I startled you." He called to him. Boyfriend could only see the swirls in his vision. He eventually got up, pulling himself back onto his bed, also bringing his comforter back up as well. "Whitty, how long have you been standing there?"

"Mmh... Most of the night."

"Wh-MOST-"

Boyfriend threw his hands up in exasperation. "Did you SLEEP??" In response to his question, Whitty shook his head. "I told you I don't really need to." Boyfriend grimaced in his direction, making a small sound of discomfort to himself, then sighed heavily. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I thought you were having a nightmare." Whitty admitted softly. Boyfriend's cheeks began to heat up as he spoke. "It sounded like you were calling my name.. Was I.. doing something bad to you?" Whitty seemed hesitant to ask, gently pulling on the large shirt he was given.

"No no no! You didn't do anything bad! I uh.. It was uh.." Boyfriend bit his knuckle. Well he certainly couldn't say what was actually happening, but he was such a bad liar. "It was a recap of our day out.. yesterday!" He blurted out. Whitty blinked. He did something bad yesterday. Bee says it wasn't directed towards him, but he was still weary of him thinking about it. "How about you go wait in the living room? I'll make us some breakfast, yeah?" Boyfriend offered, and Whitty nodded, turning around to leave the room, of course, obliviously leaving the door open. Boyfriend let out a gentle sigh and got up to close it, then deal with his issue. Shouldn't take too long..

___________________________________________

Whitty sat down on the couch, nervously fiddling with his fingers as he stared at the blank tv. He couldn't have left a bad impression right? Of course not, if he didn't like him, he certainly wouldn't invite him over, and cuddle with him. Cuddling.. was nice. It would be nice to do that right now. He decided to figure out the tv, picking up the remote and mashing a random button. He pressed damn there  every button on the device before actually getting to the power button, and he couldn't help but jump when he heard the tv turn on.

He wasn't sure if he was ready to meet Dearest's daughter today. At least it was only her, and from what he knew, she knew nothing about him other than when they first met. Does she even know she's meeting the same guy? She looked pretty scared of him. Whitty squirmed in discomfort at the thought. What if she knew about him and her dad? What if she didn't like him? What if she rats him out? His head swirled with worst case scenarios, and he couldn't help but stress about it. Boyfriend exited his room about five minutes later. Whitty could hear the bare feet slap against the wooden hallway floor. "Whitty? Whitty, what's wrong?" The blue haired male rushed to the couch. Whitty hadn't realized he had started crying, clutching his head in his hands like he felt a pain too great to bare.

Boyfriend hopped onto the furniture beside him, gently hugging his head against his chest. "I'm sorry, did I upset you? I promise you didn't do anything bad." He mumbled softly. Whitty shook his head. "I'm just.. nervous." Boyfriend parted a bit, looking down at the bomb with a slightly confused expression. "Nervous? About what?"

"Meeting her."

Boyfriend understood. She did talk about how scary and dangerous he seemed. He didn't exactly specify that it was Whitty he was talking to. There is a chance she could freak out when she sees him. Maybe Boyfriend hadn't thought this all the way through..

"How about we eat breakfast? It's hard to think on an empty stomach." He hugged onto Whitty again, gently rubbing his back. Whitty quickly began to relax. No one had ever done this with him before, and it was really affective. He really liked it. "Can we do that thing first? The cuddle?" Whitty asked softly, and Boyfriend grinned. "Of course we can, Whits." He got down, then climbed into Whitty's lap, but he faced him this time, wiping away his tears, just like he did under the tree. Whitty couldn't help but smile a little, wrapping his arms around Boyfriend in a slightly tighter squeeze than the first time. He felt warm..

___________________________________________

Boyfriend had decided to make waffles, oatmeal, grits, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, anything he could honestly find in his kitchen to make a big enough meal for someone who eats so much so fast. He himself was contempt with eating two waffles and some eggs, while Whitty, of course, ate everything else. "Dude, where does it all go?" Bee then asked, receiving a simple "hm?" from Whitty across from him. "Like.. You eat so much, but it's like it literally melts right off of you." Whitty shrugged. "It kinda does.. I digest food faster than normal humans." He explained softly. He picked up his dirty dishes and put them in the sink, with instruction, and did the same with Boyfriend's dishware. "Aww you don't have to clean up after us every time." Boyfriend laughed, sitting up and stretching before standing out of his seat. "I like to. I like to think it shows.. my appreciation for you feeding me." Whitty responded in a soft tone. Of course he didn't really know how to DO dishes, just put them in the sink. Boyfriend would deal with that pile later.

"Come on, let's get ready to go. I have a whole day planned for us." Boyfriend bounced on his toes before rushing back to his room to change. Whitty sighed softly. He didn't know how to use the dryer..

Boyfriend was quick to throw on his usual baggy jeans, white shirt, and his cap. He could barely contain his excitement, he was running back and forth in the hall, of course grabbing his mic and pocketing it for good measure. Whitty had crouched down in front of the dryer, staring intensely at it. "My clothes are trapped." He whined softly. Boyfriend came out from behind him, and couldn't help but laugh. "This is the handle to pull it open." He pulled it, and Whitty let out a sound of relief. His clothes were free!!

___________________________________________

"I'm gonna miss this carpet."

"We're gonna come back dummy."

Whitty blinked. He hadn't thought of returning to his house, he thought he was only letting him stay one night..

Boyfriend was sneaky in managing to get him to stay. He secretly applauded himself. He then smiled up at Whitty, gently grabbing his hand. "Let's get going!"

He decided to take Whitty to all his favorite spots. There was a burger joint he and Pico occasionally hung out at, and Whitty was totally down to eat again, so they went.

"Yeah, all the good stuff happens at night, so that's when we go see Gigi." Boyfriend explained with his mouth full, and Whitty nodded to show he was listening. "Oh crap, I forgot! I'm battling her mom tonight! I don't really know where though, they were gonna come pick me up." Boyfriend put a hand on his head and threw it back in distress. "Does this mean I won't meet.. Gigi?" Whitty questioned him. Boyfriend shook his head. "I guess we'll just have to wait until after. Her mom is sneaky as hell, who knows where she is at any time." He shuddered. That lady genuinely scares him.

Next up was the mall.

Whitty was hesitant to go into such a crowded area, but Boyfriend led him through the door in the back way. There were way less people coming through there, so he wouldn't have to worry about being spotted. As they entered, though, Whitty got this weird feeling.. Like they were being watched. He looked around the clothing section they were in. It was quiet back there too, save for the gentle music playing from the speakers in the ceiling. "Ooh! We should shop clothes for you!" Boyfriend then suggested. "But.. I won't be able to carry them with me everywhere.." Whitty objected, holding his hands up nervously. "You won't carry them everywhere. They'll be at my place." Boyfriend pointed his thumb at his own chest proudly.

He really did trick him into moving in, didn't he?

"The only money I get is from the collabs I've been doing so far, so until I get rich and famous, you can get one more outfit and a pair of shoes." Whitty hummed uncomfortably. Now he was taking more money from him, great. "Hey, I'm offering. Now go pick out what you like." Boyfriend smacked Whitty's leg at the knee cap gently, and Whitty quickly held  it, puffing his cheeks. "Fineeee, I'll go pick out something.." He huffed reluctantly, but proceeded to look at some shirts and pants and such.

___________________________________________

The two walked out of the mall with one bag, and Boyfriend was holding a box, which had his new shoes in it. "Thanks.. for getting me new clothes. I'm sorry to spend your money." Whitty mumbled shamefully, and Boyfriend huffed at him. "I told you, I don't mind. I want you to be comfortable since it's obvious you've never relaxed a day in your life." Bee grunted in response, nudging his leg as they walked. Whitty laughed nervously, looking behind them. He swore up and down he felt like someone was following them..

"Where to next?" Boyfriend thought out loud, mostly to himself. It was already one in the afternoon, they only had about three hours left until they were coming to pick him up. They decided to go back to the house. Whitty felt uncomfortable being out in the open for so long. "You're sure you didn't tell anyone you were talking to me?" The bomb asked, taking his shoes off inside the house. "Yes, Whitty. I haven't mentioned your name to anyone. If anything I addressed you as 'the guy I battled last week' to Pico. Why?" Whitty shook his head, stepping onto the carpet, then relaxing all over again. It was just so soft-

"Whitty?" Boyfriend turned to look at him. Whitty sighed under his breath, then sat up. "I.. felt like someone was following us. All day. It just feels ironic that I'm supposedly meeting someone-a friend of yours-today." He muttered. Boyfriend stared at him for a moment. "You don't think.. You're not thinking I set you up, are you?" He asked hesitantly, putting a hand to his own chest. Whitty didn't answer right away. He curled up into a ball in his spot, the possibilities beginning to race through his mind all over again. Suddenly he didn't feel as safe as he wanted to. Suddenly he couldn't trust Boyfriend as much as he wanted to. Bee could see him breaking down into an anxious wreck, staring intently at one spot on the floor.

He was a little hurt, yes, but this guy had so many people out for him, it wasn't even funny. He couldn't be mad at him for being cautious. That's why he's still alive today. "Whitty.." Boyfriend approached him, and his heart broke when he saw how Whitty coiled away a bit. He didn't stop though. He crouched down, putting a hand on his head. Whitty slowly looked up at him, his black, inky tears trailing down his cheeks once again today. "When I told you I would be there for you, I meant it." He told him. "I wouldn't throw you in the gutter. Remember that? I would never set up my friend. If you don't feel safe going outside, you can stay in here, okay?" Boyfriend gently leaned forward, placing a kiss on his forehead.

Whitty had no idea what that was, but he liked how it felt. It was like his worries melted away with the feeling. Like he was.. safe. He took a breath, then nodded at Boyfriend's words. "Wait.. do that again?" Whitty's eyes held a less somber expression, and he gently held onto Boyfriend's head. This caused him to blush heavily. Whitty could feel his face heating in his hands. "W-What? A-A kiss?" Boyfriend was a little surprised as Whitty nodded. He tried to calm his heart beat. He could feel it beating out of his chest, so hard he would have thought he was having a heart attack. He leaned down and gave Whitty another peck on the forehead, and the taller couldn't help but close his eyes at the warmth it gave him.

"Thank you, BB." Whitty responded softly, letting his face go, then standing back up. "Y-Y-Yeah! N-No p-problem!" Boyfriend's hands were shaking, and he was laughing awkwardly. His face was so red, and Whitty remembered what that meant. He smiled, then picked Boyfriend up, a high pitched "beep!" coming from him. "Whitty!!" He exclaimed nervously, hiding his face in his hands. Whitty tilted his head. That must be an even more positive reaction! He sat down on the couch, still holding Bee in his arms. He was determined they would cuddle until Girlfriend came to get him.

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Boyfriend jolted awake to Whitty staring down at him. Again. He yelped out, but quickly exhaled, putting a hand on his own chest. "You don't wanna be late for your battle." Whitty noted softly. He was still holding Boyfriend. No wonder he fell asleep so fast. He sat up, and Whitty allowed him to, setting him on the floor in front of the couch. Boyfriend stretched his arms up, groaning at the good stretch. "Thanks Whits.." He mumbled softly, his face quickly beginning to redden again just by looking at him. "I'll protect the house while you're gone, don't worry." Whitty told him, and Bee laughed. "I'm sure you will." He made his way over to the door, slipping his shoes back on. "You sure you'll be okay?" He turned around, and watched as Whitty curled up on the couch. He nodded in response, turning the tv on. Bee smiled, then made his way out.

Whitty really wanted to see Boyfriend's little rap battle, to of course be emotional support, but he couldn't be seen. It sucked. He felt lonely all over again, sitting in the living room, sitting on a small couch in front of a tv playing something he wasn't interested in, and he had no knowledge of how to change the channel. He hugged his knees to his chest, puffing one of his cheeks in thought. Boyfriend seemed to genuinely care for him. He.. really did care for him.. Hopefully his friends are similar to that. Even if they weren't, Boyfriend was enough for him. He was all he needed..

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Whitty looked away from the cats on the screen about an hour later to the sound of the front door opening. His insides fluttered, like.. weirdly. He put a hand on his chest as the door opened, and Boyfriend walked in, talking to someone and laughing. He turned to look at Whitty, then winked. "Gigi, here's the guy I wanted you to meet!" Girlfriend walked past him, and looked directly into Whitty's eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, and Whitty began to sweat nervously. "H.. Hi-"

"I'm very sorry!"

Whitty's eyes widened, and his cheeks began to glow orange. "I also participated in pushing you to that point, and I wanted to apologise for doing that." She took her shoes off, making her way into the living room. Whitty and Boyfriend let out a breath of relief, the latter quickly following after her. "I-It's okay.. really.. it happens.." Whitty stammered awkwardly, shrinking against the couch as she smiled up at him.

"I'm Girlfriend, but just call me Gigi. I hope we can get to know each other better. And don't worry, I'll keep you a secret from my parents." Whitty's eyes brightened as she spoke those words. She seemed kind already. "See!! I told you it would go well!" Boyfriend hugged Girlfriend from behind, making her giggle. "Yeah.." Whitty mumbled to himself.

Maybe it won't be that bad making friends..