#sips tea from over in november

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[keeksandgigz]

the witch hunt

eddie munson x witch!reader

part 2 of "the love witch"

Summary: You've been good about keeping your magic a secret from Eddie, much to your dismay, so diligent on hiding your true self. What happens when you leave your potion cabinet unattended, he drinks one of your concoctions and turns himself into stone, leaving you to turn him back, right in front of his eyes?

CW: 5k words, no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, eddie turns to stone, angsty angst angst but with a happy ending, witchy casts some serious spells in this one, mentions of witchy being depressed, eddie being a lovesick fool

thank u to my lovely @reidsbtch for beta reading I love u I love u I love u

Read part 1 here, Witchyverse masterpost here

feedback is always appreciated!

You've been good. You've been diligent. You've been following the rules of the coven.

To not share the gift with anyone, a secret kept under oath, hand over the binding of an old spell book, its surface course and rough, centuries of hands- young, old, powerful and weak, all part of the history of how that book came to be.

When you started dating Eddie, you were summoned, warned by your coven to keep the magic away from your human boyfriend, hidden under a veil of thin shame disguised as indifference.

And six months went by, then a year. You thought you were safe, you thought you'd gotten through the worst part of keeping the secret.

You deluded yourself. He loves you so much, there's no reason he would leave you, not even for a secret as big as yours. You've put protection spells around everything that involved actual magic in your house, the potion cabinet you kept in the hallways as decoration, the spell books hidden under a floorboard in your room.

Although he could not feel it, your apartment pulsated with raw magical energy in its purest form. You really thought you were safe.

A rainy November afternoon, you're tasked to bring some ingredients you've had stashed at your apartment to your aunt Hilda's house, a delivery from Janice- ingredients from Bulgaria, after your shift.

What surprises you about your aunt Hilda is that despite being a witch, she does not go unnoticed- living in one of the Painted Ladies house in the heart of San Francisco, all by herself and her cat, Arsenio.

She always invites you in for tea and a reading, so you step into her house, smelling of antique parchment, tea leaves and a mystical smell of pungent resin and wood, much different from your incense and dried flowers smell.

"I need to invite Janice over one of these days" she says in her veiled voice, pouring you a cup of jasmine tea.

"I don't know if she's going to be able to get out of Haight Ashbury, Aunt Hilda. She's like two- hundred years old or something" you laugh, rummaging through your bag for the delivery you visited your aunt for, placing the jars on the table.

She gasps in delight "You can't get those plants anywhere else, she must have paid a fortune for that blood from a vampire's fangs" she squeals, running to her cabinet to find a home for her new deliveries.

"How's your human, dear?" she asks from the kitchen, followed by clattering of glass and metal.

"Oh, Eddie's fine, he should be off work soon, maybe we'll do something after" you shrug, petting her cat, Arsenio, on your lap.

"And his handsome hunk of an uncle?" you roll your eyes at that.

"God, Aunt Hilda, gross" you groan, sinking in your seat.

"Let me know when he's back in town, I need to invite them both over one of these days, it might be nice. Shall we do a reading before I leave?" she sits back down at the small table and takes a sip of her tea, tarot cards in hand.

"Yeah, I'll ask him for his schedule" you finish your tea "Let me do a one card pull, I need to get home"

"You know, dear, you've been awfully nervous lately- so jumpy" She says, as she shuffles the laminated cards for what feels like forever,

"I'm okay, Aunt Hilda, just stressed with work" you lie, exhaling with anticipation as her wrinkled hand holds the deck. Your aunt's readings have always made you nervous.

You'd been jumpy for a while, the thought of Eddie finding out had been making you nervous, but you wouldn't dare to tell your aunt that.

She offers the deck to you, you pick a card and then give it to her. A gasp escapes her upon looking at it.

A panic rises through your body "What? What is it?" you ask, your bag already across your shoulder, holding on to its strap.

"The Tower" she mutters, destruction, unexpected change, awakening.

A shiver runs down your spine, one by one your vertebrae straighten "I just had a really bad feeling, dear. I would check in on your human boy" she places a hand on her temple, heart racing as you bolt out of your seat and leave.

On the train, panic settles in, wondering if Eddie was somehow connected to this.

A call startles you. It's him.

You tremble when nearing the phone to your ear.

"Hey, witchy, I'm at your house- I used the spare key. I just called 'cause I had a question" he says, voice dubious and vague.

"What is it, Ed? I'm on my way home"

"I was just wondering if it's normal that the cabinet in your hallway is open? I had to stop Circe from getting into it a couple times" you hear a meowing in the background, he must be holding her.

"What cabinet?" you feel your chest rise and fall at an incredibly fast pace.

"The one with the wilted flowers on them, it has a bunch of bottles. Are- are these fake potions?" There's an amused lilt in his voice, almost as if he's laughing at you. Fuck. The potion cabinet.

"Eddie don't touch anything, I'm literally here" your alarmed tone freaks him out, but he has no time to say anything as you hang up and enter your apartment building.

You run up the stairs, heart in your throat, as you reach your front door and slam it open. Eddie's head swings violently.

"Hey, witchy, what's wrong?" he stands up from the cabinet, holding Circe on one arm. You're heaving, irregular breaths, as you see he's still standing, alive, and breathing.

You close the door. "You didn't touch anything in there, did you?" you run towards the open cabinet, checking for missing bottles.

"Witchy, honey, I don't get why you're so jumpy about a couple of fake potions, they would actually be really useful for DnD" Eddie chuckles, reaching into the cabinet to grab a bottle, observing it up close. A greyish- blue liquid swirls inside the bottle.

"Eddie! Put it back! It's dangerous!" you exclaim as you reach for the bottle, but he's blocking you.

"Baby, I think you might be getting a little too carried away with this witchy stuff. There's no way you should be reacting like this over some water and dye" he swirls the bottle once again "I'll even drink it, show you it's not actually that dangerous"

A smug smile adorns his lips, as you watch helplessly while he uncorks the small vial and downs its content. 

“EDDIE NO” You aren’t even sure what it is, which makes a panic set into your stomach, hoping you could reverse whatever he ingested.

“No, no, no, no, what have you done?” your head encapsulated in your hands, feeling the beady sweat on your hairline, falling to your knees with the realization. You’re going to have to tell him.

“See? Not dangerous, baby. I love you, but you need to do something about this obsession, it’s getting out of hand” he sighs “I’m hungry i’m gonna get some food” but before he can even take a step, the rumbling of stone fills the room. 

You grab the empty glass vial and examine its label. Shit. He turned himself to stone.

In a panic, he looks at you. 

“Witchy, what’s going on?” his eyes dart from you to his frozen legs, the stone spreading itself upward quickly “Witch-what- is that stone?” He goes still after that.

A statue. His cold, grey eyes staring up at you in a panic. 

Tears brimming your eyes at the sudden realization that once you turn him back to normal he’s going to know. 

His hands feel cold at the touch as you cling on to your boyfriend’s statued form. Mouth agape, eyebrows pinched in fear, it hurt you to see him like this. You were going to lose it all because of a dumb mistake.

A desperate scream bubbles inside your chest as you hold yourself flush against Eddie’s cold surface, wishing his arms could hug you back, having to come to terms with the fact that this is probably the last time you’ll ever see him in your home. You won’t ever get to hold him again.

Weak and teary- eyed you reach for your phone, wiping under your eyes as you try to stabilize yourself. 

“Hello, dear?” aunt Hilda says through the phone. 

“Aunt Hilda I made a really terrible mistake” you sob, shoulders shaking with the violence of your hiccups. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” the concern is palpable through her voice. 

“I left- left my potion cabinet open and Eddie-” another string of violent sobs follow, rumbled deep in your chest, shaking you to your very core. 

“What happened to Eddie?” The question is cautious, though unfortunately you could feel the alarm and sternness in her voice.

“He turned to stone” you sigh, exasperated, letting yourself sink into the sofa. 

“Stone? How did a human man turn to stone?” ever the help, your aunt exclaims. 

A dramatic exhale you feel like you’ve been holding onto “I left my potion cabinet open and he- and he has a spare key” you sob- all your fault for letting your guard down, all your fault for letting yourself care for him so mindlessly. 

“He got into it thinking they were all fake, I tried to- to stop him” a siffle stops you “he was trying to be funny” a string of sobs followed, unable to speak any longer. 

“You need to pull yourself together,” Hilda says, amidst your inconsolable sobs “you know how to reverse this” her voice is stern, yet shaky, she feels for you, having to let your love go. 

“The mirror” you mumble. 

“That’s right, get a mirror- circle of reflection, circle of protection” she reminds you “repeat those words, he’ll be okay, dear” you can tell that she is hurting, breaking the law of your coven, making you face consequences you haven't even thought of.  

Would you be losing your power? Would you have to move away from him? In hindsight that would be a blessing, as you doubt he would want to stay, now that your secret is uncovered. 

Hilda hangs up the phone as you scramble to get a mirror, and smear salt over his heart. Trying to reverse the spell that might have broken it. 

The mirror faces your boyfriend, his features grey and scared- the last time you’ll ever see him in this lifetime.

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

Circle of reflection, circle of protection

The hand that is not holding the mirror is clutched on tightly to his chest, as you keep repeating the words. 

The sound of rubble breaking makes your heart wrench, selfishly wanting him to stay a statue for a little longer, so you won’t have to say goodbye to him just yet, but the stone armor sheds, and his eyes are brown instead of dull and grey, and his arms move, as well as his mouth, closing in itself, breathing as if he’s come to life for the first time. 

He rubs his eyes first, drowsy, like waking up from a one- hundred year old slumber. He looks around the room, it’s familiar to him, the smell of incense that was there, and then it wasn’t, blocked by the earthy smell of rubble and earth. 

“What happened?” he mumbles, shaking his stiff limbs, kicking the broken suit of stone armor at his feet, your hand still on his heart “Witchy?” 

His eyes are blown wide, memories of what had happened an hour before coming to the surface. The same panicked look adorns his face. 

“The potion- it wasn’t” he begins, as you move your hand off of his body, much to your heart’s dismay. You shake your head. 

“It wasn’t fake. None of them are fake” you mutter, staring at the floor, not even daring to look at him. There’s a quiet tension, an almost awkward silence, charged with pain and heartbreak, as Eddie realizes what you mean by ‘not fake.’

“And you brought me back from whatever I turned into” he breathes.

You just nod, head fixated on the floorboards and the rubble surrounding his feet.

“Does that make you-” he gulps. Can’t even bring himself to say it. 

“A witch” you mumble under your breath “a real one,” your gaze falls on his eyes, dilated and sad, as his eyebrows curve up, a line forming on the bridge of his nose. 

There’s once again an unsettling quiet between you two, as he tries to wrap his head around the news. 

His chest feels hollow, where your hand had been just moments before, an unrecognizable phantom pressing down on his heart, rubbing salt in a gashing wound, hoping it would ameliorate it, only to make it bleed more.

He takes a few steps back, watching his step over the rubble, breaking his silence after what feels like hours. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” it’s a mere mumble, but the question was clear, hurt, and a little scared, maybe. 

“I swore under oath that I would keep it a secret” you purse your lips, taking a step forward. Your heart shatters when he takes a step back.

His chest is stilled, breath caught in his throat, hands at his sides as he scoffs. 

“You swore you’d keep it a secret? Is that why you’ve been so jumpy lately? You knew I was bound to find out and you didn’t tell me?” his head is reeling, betrayal cuts through him like a knife as more and more of looking at you twists the dagger in his chest. 

“I didn’t want you to find out, Ed. I promised to my coven-” 

“Your coven?  There’s more of you?” you can’t do anything else but swallow on the knot in your throat, scratching and engorging with every word that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and nod. 

“And you let me drink the potion, God knows what it could have been” he trembles, a shaky breath escapes him. 

“I tried to stop you, Eddie!” you reach for him, hanging on the feeble hope he’ll realize that you have never meant to hurt him in the first place. 

“And- and what if you spelled me, huh? What if you spelled me to make me fall in love with you? Is my love for you not real?” that hurt you more than anything else he could have said, tears brimming your eyes, escaping from their confinement as they streak down your cheeks. 

“I’ve never used my magic on you,” you admit, voice thick with salty tears “my love for you is real, as yours is. I never tampered with your heart, it’s not who I am” bottom lip jutted out and trembling, feeling on the teetering edge of the end.

“I don’t know who you are” a stab to the heart would have hurt less. “You’ve been lying to me for the past year about who you are. No wonder I was so in love with you, you made me fall in love with a person that doesn’t exist, you spelled me!” he’s trembling, you can see it in the way that his fists are balled up– something he does to stabilize himself whenever he’s upset. 

And now he’s upset because of you. 

“Eddie–” you take a step forward, he takes a step back. 

“No. Don’t- don’t come closer.” tears well at the bottom of your lash line, as you watch him turn away, leave and close the door behind him. Words trapped at the bottom of your throat. Words you’ll never get to say again. 

You’re not sure how long you stand there, staring at the doorknob, hoping that it might turn, revealing Eddie once again, ready for you to explain everything to him. 

But the doorknob doesn’t turn, the door doesn’t open, and Eddie doesn’t come back. 

You refuse to sweep the rubble from the last time he was in your apartment, hoping that the smell of him stuck to the cold stone, but there’s nothing left of him in your space. 

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break,  the life force of their power fades. 

So within a short span of days, you notice yourself being weakened. Simple spells become a hard feat, as you can barely make things levitate, sitting in the darkness of your room. 

Days begin to merge into themselves, as you get yourself to work, then home, then work, then home. A repeating cycle you don’t intend to stop. You leave around the back side of the store, to not let Eddie see you while he’s on his smoke break, blending into the crowded streets of what once seemed like the best place in the world.

Your aunt Hilda doesn’t hear from you, and neither does anyone else. You fall off the face of the earth, hoping that your hours never coincide with Eddie’s. 

But you can feel it from next door, the pain and hurt that radiates from the record store. You feel it in the way he speaks to customers, in the way he sighs as he gets off his smoke break. 

You hear him ask Janice about you, she tells him that she doesn’t know, that she hasn’t seen you in a while. Respecting your wishes to let him live his life in peace. 

But he wasn’t living his life in peace. In fact, Eddie was miserable. 

He was miserable in the way that everything reminded him of you, in the way that if he stepped too close to your store (to make sure you were working that day), he’d smell the rose incense you’d light at your house. The one he would smell on your clothes. 

The crystals that sat on his windowsill were now tightly packed and shoved away on a far up shelf that he would not be reminded of you. He burned every trace of you, the taste of betrayal bitter in his throat as he sat on his couch every night, always on the left side, because you sat on the right. A place for you was always carved in his mind, whether it was unconscious or intentional. 

 The smell of your shampoo lingers in the pink bottles in his shower, in the silk pillow you always slept on when you went over to his house. A silk shirt you left on his bed, gingerly placed on his pillow as he lets your smell engulf him. That’s the only way he can sleep. 

There’s a fear deeply setting in, that he might just never be able to get over you. Despite the lies and the secrets, he will never be able to not think about you, not when the smell of rose incense or the color pink exist, not when long skirts and crystals and tarot cards and brocade rugs exist. Not when you exist. Not when you keep walking the earth, sadness seeping in every crevice and every crack of his walls.

He knows he can’t go on like this. Not while you roam the same streets he roams, waiting for you to turn around. Look at me, witchy, look at me. 

And you’re so sad. He can see it in your eyes, in the way you don’t carry yourself like you used to– shoulders slouched, dressed in black like you’re mourning the loss of your heart. Mourning the loss of your love.

He debates going back to Hawkins for a bit. Going back to live with his uncle– leave this new world behind, just until the air has been purified of you. Until he’s no longer thinking about the witchy girl who haunts his dreams at night. Go work where his friend Steve works at, shitty, dead- end job, just for a bit. 

Confine himself to the life of a hermit, just so he can allow you to live in peace. 

So he goes back to Hawkins, under the guise of going home for the holidays. He picks up whatever jobs his uncle can’t do anymore because of his age, driving the beat up yellow pick- up truck in and out of town. 

“I never thought I’d see the day Munson would come crawling back” he’d hear a couple of people say on the street. He’s never gone unnoticed, but now more so than before– integrated in the San Francisco scene, he did anything but blend in. And he swears he sees you a few times, walking around downtown Hawkins, your hair, your clothes, your bag. Prancing around like your life is back to normal. 

Could it have been a spell? Did you spell him to not make him forget about you? 

But he knows it isn’t like you. Not malicious, not even as a witch, he assumes. 

He keeps himself up at night thinking about you. You’d never use magic on him. With a sound mind, he tells himself that’s true. Your love for him is real. Is his love for you real? Shivering in the freezing temperature of his uncle’s trailer he’d ponder whether what you had was real or not. 

Real.

He drives himself crazy, the thought of you plaguing his mind. 

Even his uncle grows worried, the purple bags under his nephew’s eyes, all the books on witchcraft Eddie could find at the Hawkins local library sitting on his desk. Staying up to read on anything and everything that could help him.

And when that doesn’t work he goes on his uncle’s shitty wifi he never uses to research anything about witches, about magic, about you.

You don’t sense him anymore. Not through the walls, not in his sardonic laugh. It’s like he’d vanished into thin air. 

You find yourself stepping into the record store after a shift, asking his shitty coworkers what happened to Eddie. 

And you’re so weak. So tired, it is even a feat to be able to make it through one full shift standing up, finding a stool to sit on. You’ve paled, eyes dark and lifeless. 

“He’s gone back home for the holidays” one of the assholes who made fun of you says “left you stranded here all by yourself? Or did he kick you to the curb?” he smirks, and the other idiot laughs. You make a mental note to hex them for good next time. 

If you don’t die first. 

Eddie comes back to San Francisco after the holidays, and it’s like he’s never left. 

Union Square has taken off the tree and the ice skating rink– he wanted to take you there. He thought you’d be good at ice skating. You’re good at everything. Or maybe it’s because you’re magic. 

The restaurant you went to on your first date has closed down. There’s a smile creeping on his face as he remembers you laughing because he couldn’t eat with chopsticks. He misses hearing you laugh. He misses seeing you smile. 

The tiny twinkle, the stars in your eyes. The way he’d braid your hair at night. Petting Circe, nestled in between you two in your bed. 

He sees you for the first time since he’s been back on the porch of your shop. His heart shrinks at the sight of you. Eyes sunken in, buried in layers and layers of woolen fabric, staring blankly at the street in front of you. 

The thing about love witches is that when the thing most precious to them, their hearts, break,  the life force of their power fades. 

He remembers reading that in an old looking book during the holidays. He wrote it down in his notebook. 

A love witch. Thrives on being loved and being in love.  

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered. 

He sees it now.

He shows up to your house after talking himself into it for a week, with the excuse of returning a shirt. The same silk  shirt he’d been sleeping on top of since he left you. He had it washed for you. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.

He knocks. Is it him or are his hands always that sweaty? Is his heart beating at a normal pace? Is his hair okay? And his breath? Oh shit, he has a zit on his chin.

“Go away Aunt Hilda!” he hears you say, grumpy and grouchy. The veiled sadness in your voice creates a rift between him and the door. 

So he knocks. Again. And Again. 

“Aunt Hilda I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, I don’t want– Eddie” A breath gets trapped in your diaphragm, feeling your heart start picking up its pace for the first time in what felt like weeks. 

“Hi” he gives you a tight smile, the silk balled up in a fist, purple with little black swirls on it. 

“Hi, um, I– what are you doing here? Do you wanna come in?” you slither like a worm, that’s how you feel. The boy you’ve been pining and crying and suffering for is here. Right in front of you. 

You look so much more frail than he’d remembered “I uh–” he holds up the fabric “you left this at my house” 

“Oh, thanks. That’s sweet of you” Your heart drops, you really thought he was going to make amends with you?

You extend your arm, so he can give the shirt to you. So he can be on his way and be gone forever. 

Hands, fingers, knuckles. He misses holding your hand. 

“I heard you went home for the holidays, how was that?” you lean on the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest. 

“It was good, I just spent it with my uncle. He told me to tell you happy new year, uh— even though we’re not—” he shouldn’t have said the last part, he sees you sink into yourself, gazing down at the hardwood floor. His stomach twists. 

“What did you do for the holidays?” he asks. He doesn’t want it to be over, not yet. 

“I just stayed in, I’ve been pretty sick lately, flu season in full swing. I’ve just been—”

“Your heart’s broken, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve been so sick?” your heart drops. How does he know all this? 

He reads your puzzled expression “I um— did some research. That’s what I did most of my holidays.  I just wanted to understand. I know you didn’t spell me, or whatever. You’re a love witch” he takes out a piece of paper, highlighted is a sentence, in light pink.

Her heart is only safe when her love is true and unfettered. 

Your head is reeling, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He spent his holidays researching you, your kind. He knows you didn’t lie to him. 

Tears begin to spill onto the old parchment, the tears you haven’t shed in the past two months resurfacing, as you violently jerk and sob in front of him. You missed him.

Eddie quickly steps into your apartment and closes the door, enveloping you in a hug. And it feels good for your heart, a soothing balm for all the cracks and wounds it’s suffered. 

“It’s okay, witchy, you can let it out” he says, as you continue to sob on his shoulder. Soft shushing sounds as he caresses your hair “Shhh…shhh… I’ve got you” and it’s like he’s never left. 

“I’m here now, I’m not leaving” his assurance makes your body feel whole again. He sits you both down on the couch. 

“Witchy, I didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. I would see you everywhere, I thought I was going crazy” he begins, and maybe he sees a twinkle in your eye, something weak, almost like a heartbeat being revived. 

“I thought going to Hawkins, just to distance myself would change things. But I’d keep myself awake thinking about you, all the time, wondering if you were doing okay.” His hand brushes yours, as you wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. 

“I would see you at work, or out and about and you looked so sad. And I just couldn’t explain to myself what happened to you, until I came across that book” he finishes.

And in turn, you don’t say anything, you just kiss him. It’s wet and messy with the tears and the saliva, but he immediately kisses you back, cradling your face in his hand. Your heart beats faster than it has in a while, and it’s like magically, your skin has a bit more color to it. 

And Eddie sees the stars in your eyes again. 

When you detach you just lay your head on his chest. You listen for his heartbeat, lulling you into a deep sleep, the best sleep you’ve had in two months. He follows you not soon after, Circe on his lap, as he falls into slumber with a peaceful smile on his face. 

Once awoken from your sleep, you go make a cup of tea for the both of you.

“Witchy?” your head lifts at the nickname as you pour him his tea.

 “So, are you a witch, a mage or a sorceress?” 

You just roll your eyes and kiss him again. 

a word about my taglist- if you ask to be put on it, and went through the trouble of filling out the form, all i ask in return is that you interact with my stuff in a meaningful way. plain likes really don't get you anywhere on here, and i am asking you in the nicest possible way. tysm <3 taglist form here

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x witchy!reader #modern!eddie x witchy!reader #modern!eddie munson #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au #eddie munson angst

[jaidens]

And When I Felt Like I Was An Old Cardigan

pairing [s] : spencer reid x reader

warning [s] : baby spencer | angst with comfort \ fluff | crying | mentions of spencers addiction |

a/n [s] : requests are open!! short imagine I guess

Spencer was young.

Spencer was young and had gone through more than any twenty-three year olds had. He was bullied and ridiculed throughout his school years, and was constantly working. His mind was on everything, how to be better and how to show people he wasn't some scrawny kid with some luck and brains.

It followed him into his adult life. In his work, if you didn't pull through you were pushed out. Spencer knew he had to continue to work on his information which led to him reading many books each week and never letting him do what he wanted. Whether that was binging Star Trek every night or eating cake and cookies while making fun of scientific facts in random television shows.

Eventually, after the Tobias Hankel case, he was at his all time low in his adult life. Spencer felt as if he had nothing to live for and he was shoved further down in his experiences. He felt like he was pushed on a shelf, and put away, for nobody to care or think about him. That was until he met you, an agent from a different branch of the F.B.I. You let him talk about his thoughts on the case and other facts that could travel along his sentences. It made him feel seen and that's all he needed.

After the case ended, you had called him, and asked if he wanted to get a cup of coffee and see a movie. He accepted it gratefully, meeting you on a frosty November morning. He's clad in a thick cardigan above a button up shirt and a bundle of feelings of worry. Spencer sees you in a small booth near the window, sipping on hot (what he learned to be) chamomile tea. There's a relaxing, acoustic song that's playing on the speakers.

He's gripping onto his leather satchel as he walks over to you. You look at him with eyes that he can get lost in through the dangerous labyrinth of the color. Spencer's hands go to his glasses and he readjusts them on his nose and stumbles to the table. His clothes seem to feel as if they're sticking against his skin as he sits down in the plush brown seat in front of you.

“Hi Spencer.” You say giving him a small smile and take another sip out of your steaming tea. Hes staring at you like you're a new book, the smell of a new book, and everything he loves about the sound of the first page turn. “...Hi.” Spencer responds letting out a breath he had been holding in, letting his shoulders drop and relax.

Spencer's eyes fall on the book that sits on the table that was aged and the spine wasn't in the best condition. He recognizes the name that's etched on the front. “Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë?” He asks you pointing at the book. You set down your tea and nod. “Yes! It's one of my favorites. Whatever our souls are made of...”

“...his and mine are the same.” Spencer finishes and you smile at him, the waitress walks over and Spencer tells her his order of a coffee with four sugars and two creamers. Whatever Spencer was doing, it was working. The soft charm he had to him whenever his dimples would show whenever he would smile, was working.

The same smile showed up the day he asked you to be his. He handed you a book with a note written inside with his messy hand writing. He can still remember the flash of happiness in your eyes as you ran up to him and kissed him. It didn't make sense to him for the first time in forever. It didn't make sense why he was terrified to look at you the next day as you wake up in his bed next to him.

He turns to the other side of the bed where you're laying, covered with his brown comforter. Spencer's hands suddenly feel sweaty and he's anxious, because that's his fiancee, laying in bed and the ring shines against the sun. If you would have asked twenty-three year old Spencer where he would be at 30, he wouldn't be able to answer you. Now, he knows. He knows that he's in complete and utter awe of his fiancee and that he's finally happy. This is what he's dreamed of for years, whenever he was a kid reading fairytale books over and over again.

Spencer finally had been seen and he was never losing it.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x wife!reader #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff

[pashminalamb]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃. (𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝟏)

˚୨୧⋆｡ 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : 𝐁𝐥𝐥𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐍𝐍 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞.

˚୨୧⋆｡ 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢, 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐧, 𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 (𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝟐𝟒 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬).

˚୨୧⋆｡ 𝐖𝐜 : 𝟐.𝟒𝐤

˚୨୧⋆｡ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞-𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.

˚୨୧⋆｡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖-𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬.

˚୨୧⋆｡ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬 : 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭), 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 '𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲' (𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐧), 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐠.

(𝐀/𝐍) : 𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡; 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝!!

𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬.

✦ 𝐈𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐘𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 : 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐍𝐍𝐍 𝐢𝐬.

“Uh… love?” he said, looking up at you from his phone. You hummed, taking a sip out of your mug, your other hand holding a book. 

“What is this NNN challenge?” Spitting out the tea, you caught Isagi’s attention. He made his way over to you, patting your back as you coughed a little. With a concerned gaze, he moved around the table, grabbing a few paper towels wiping away the droplets of your drink. 

“Is the question I asked that bad?” he asked, blue orbs staring into yours. 

“No. Where did you get that question, Yoichi?” 

“Shidou sent it on the group chat.” Figures. “So would you tell me what it is?” Yoichi asked, his eyes glimmering with wonder. Did he think it was some kind of a football challenge? “Is it really necessary?” you groaned. “If you don’t want to tell me what it is, I’m alright with that.” he shrugged. Screw it, he was gonna find out about it anyway. Damn Shidou for ruining the innocence of the blueberry muffin. 

“You can’t have sex or jerk off for the entire month of November.” you said, not daring to look at him. Silence filled the room after you said that out loud. Curious, you turned to look to the side you found Isagi biting the inside of his cheek, blue eyes narrowed in thought. There was no way. 

“You’re not thinking about doing the challenge are you?” you asked. Turning to the side, he was quick to give you a fox-like smile. “And what if I am?” 

“Oh god.” “I think you’re starting to sound more sex depraved that I am.” Yoichi teased, pulling your cheek. “Think about yourself, idiot. As a footballer, do you think you can hold yourself off for one month?”

“Wanna bet?” he asked, giving you a smirk. Laying down the rules, the two of you had arrived at a conclusion. 

(i). No touching yourselves or each other. 

(ii). If the other party loses, they have to adhere to the conditions of the winning party. 

If anything came out of no nut November, it was the possibility of turning Yoichi submissive… there was no way you were going to lose. 

✦ 𝐈𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐑𝐢𝐧 : 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤) 𝐢𝐭.

Kimiko : Can you believe that Ren is planning to do the NNN challenge? You : Boys will be boys. Honestly, I don’t even get the point of the challenge… I pity ur sex life for the next month tho 

Kimiko : Honey. There are vibrators for a reason. 

You laughed as you texted away, Rin watching you from the corner of his eye. “What’s so funny?” Shaking your head, your fingers typing away, laughing at Kimiko’s frustration. 

“Nothing. Just Kimiko’s boyfriend doing some stupid challenge of the month.” 

“What is the challenge this time?” Rin was getting rather chatty today. And for the wrong reasons. You knew if he was to know about this challenge he was going to either scoff at you saying that it was pointless like he did every other time when you showed him any video or challenge. On the other hand what was the harm in the vague mentioning of it anyway? “NNN challenge.” “Mhm hm… is it just acronyms or is there actually a meaning to it.” “Everything has a meaning to it, Rin. It depends if you’re interested in it or not and like every other challenge for you, it is stupid. So pray tell why would you want to know what it is anyway?” you asked, clicking your phone shut. 

“Just tell me what it is,” he said, rolling his eyes. So dramatic, yet like a child he couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay, making a smile play on your lips. “No nut november challenge.” Shaking his head, Rin took out his own phone, long fingers tapping away at his keypad impatiently.

Eyebrows pinching and eyes narrowing, he prodded his tongue into the side of his cheek in awkwardness. Sighing through your lips, you kept yourself from laughing, your hand over your lips stifling your giggles while your shoulders shook. 

“Fine then, have it your way.” he said, hands resting palm down on his thighs, getting up from the couch. “You’re not thinking about going through the challenge for one month are you?” you asked, feigning a mortified expression. Leaning over you, he kept a few centimeters between you and him,  hands placed on either side of you. Placing his palm on your cheek, his thumb towards your lower lip, gliding across the skin of it. “I do yoga, puppy. It doesn’t take a thought to know who has the upper hand out of the two of us.” he rasped, pulling away from you with an all knowing glare, going towards the kitchen, with the aim to crush your ego in the next few weeks to come. Seems like this month was going to be a hard one for you, unless… you had managed to turn the tables in your favor. 

✦ 𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 : 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐍𝐍𝐍 𝐰𝐚𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐲. 

Stepping out of the shower, Resnuke watched as you scrolled through your social media, the sounds of music from short videos filling up the room while lying down. Covered in his clad towel he moved towards the cupboard, pulling out a pair of loose fitting pajamas that he wore to sleep, choosing to not wear a shirt. You giggled while he slipped into bed beside you. 

Resting his chin on your shoulder, he watched your illuminated screen with you, his other hand coming under your neck, eyes catching a flash of a text. “Are you gonna jump on the  bandwagon for doing the NNN challenge?” Tapping on your keypad, you were quick to reply. “Idk… I don't think Rensuke would be up for it.” Oh? You thought he was upto the mark for the NNN challenge? He didn’t know about the details of it, considering that it had never been brought up and the minimal amount of effort he spent on social media, limiting his knowledge of this. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t be up for it?” Rensuke asked, a stern tone laced with sleep taking over his voice. 

“Mhm? And since when were you interested in the NNN challenge?” you asked, turning to face him, clicking your phone shut. “Not that I know what it is, but what makes you think I’d back down?” 

“You want to skip out on sinful intimacy and not touch yourself for an entire month, Rensuke?” 

Pulling back, his eyes met yours, his auburn orbs holding a daring expression. Turning you over, he placed on your back, straddling your hips. Leaning down, he placed himself on his elbows, his bare abs coming in contact with the thin material of your shirt, yet still feeling the surface of his hard muscles against your stomach. You could feel the light pants from his lips as he adjusted himself above you, the minty whiffs of his warm breath on the tip of your nose. “Look at me.” Staring up at him, you felt your fingertips dig into the surface of the mattress, resisting the urge to pull him into you as you had done times before. Even if you had shared intimacy with him many times, the scene managed to make your heart race and your face heat up. But this time… it was almost like Rensuke had a point to prove, that you were going to lose the challenge if you went through with it, with him tempting you for the next thirty days. Eyes looking into his half lidded ones, your gaze shifted from them to his lips, mesmerized by the way his lips formed around the words. 

“I can fuck you whenever I want to.” You swallowed hard, body squirming in response to his raspy voice as he said it. 

“I don’t need some stupid challenge to show my self restraint.” he said, hand moving towards the column of your throat as he lips came to the side of your ear, placing a kiss on the lobe of it while his fingers lightly traced circular patterns into the skin of your throat and his other hand weaved his fingers between yours. 

“Imagine not having this for another month. Don’t want that to happen do you?” Rensuke purred, making you whine. Pulling away from you, he kissed the tip of your nose, dropping himself on the other side of his bed. 

“Too bad, it seems like you landed yourself in this one. Since I would be ‘up for it.’” Rensuke said, a smirk playing on his lips as he faced away from you to sleep. That night you racked your brain for ideas of how you could possibly seduce him for the next 30 days, thinking of how you could make his patience snap. 

✦ 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞.

Meguru placed his feet on the sofa as he watched the match on the screen before him, your head in his lap as you scrolled through your phone, laughing particularly hard at one meme about people losing the NNN challenge, making Meguru look at you in fondness yet curiosity. Playing with your hair, he asked you in a playful tone. “What’s got you laughing?” 

“Seems like people are losing the NNN challenge.” “What’s that…?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, clueless. 

“You can’t touch yourself or your partner for the whole month of November. That’s the No nut November challenge.” you said simply, looking back at your phone. You didn’t feel Bachira move or the sound of the television that was now on mute. Just what was the thinking? Tilting your head up slightly, you were met with the sight of Meguru staring into empty space before him. 

“What are you thinking about Meguru?” you asked, playing with the blonde colored parts of his hair. He hummed in response, taking your hand into his, entwining his digits with yours. “Tell me.” “It's not that hard.” he declared, looking down at you, his honey like gaze holding mischief in them. 

“What isn’t?” “The challenge.” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. Choosing to contest him, you got up from your spot, hsi face looking relaxed and close to smug. “You think you can pull off this challenge?” you asked, crossing your arms over his chest. “It is not impossible.” he said, sinking into the couch with a wave of his hand to show the easiness he felt about it. “You and the no nut november challenge? Meguru there’s no way-” “Why don’t we take it up then?” he asked, eyes staring into yours with dispassion. Leaning forward, he placed a hand behind you, his cheek coming close to yours as he whispered into your ear. “I know that I fuck you like an animal, make you cry out and make you stand on shaky legs the next day.” 

Pulling away his eyes bore into yours, half lidded and smug. “But I can be tame sometimes.” You metally groaned at the thought of not having pleasure for the next month. There was only so much you could do on your own, your body wanting Meguru and his touch. 

“So we’re going through with it.” he said with finality, turning towards the television screen, unmuting it, paying attention to the match. 

You turned to the other side of the couch, making sure to hide your phone away from Bachira’s gaze. ``100 ways to seduce your boyfriend, when he won’t pay attention to you.’ 

✦ 𝐍𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.

Although Nagi spent most of his time on his phone watching videos of football, learning new tricks or playing games, he wasn’t confined to living under a rock. Scrolling through social media, he was waiting for the announcement of a new game that was dropping that day, his eyes catching a glimpse of a post that he was unfamiliar with, the caption stating, ‘When you fail the NNN challenge.’ 

The ping of your phone caught your attention, causing you to pick up the device. It wasn’t a surprise to see a message from Nagi, but the message itself caught you off guard. Clicking on the video, you felt a laugh come out of you as the video played that of a panicked man realizing it was the night of the thirty first of October. It was the NNN challenge. But why would Nagi send you that? Your question was answered with the appearance of a text bubble that came beneath the said video. 

Sei ♡ : ‘What are the limits here?’ 

Sighing you typed back.

You : Are you asking me about the challenge? Sei ♡ : yeah its all over my feed now. 

You : Why don’t you just search it up? Sei : Too lazy. 

Shaking your head at his sloth like personality that took over at times when he wasn’t at a field, you typed back, 

You : It’s the No nut November challenge. You can’t touch yourself or your partner for the whole month of November. 

You watched as the text bubble appeared and reappeared, this time the text making you quirk an eyebrow. 

Sei ♡ : Let’s do it. You : Are you sure? I don’t think you can hold out long. 

Little did you know that your text had made Nagi stand his ground and not change his mind, providing him with the motive to toy with you until you gave in and lost the challenge. 

It had been five minutes with Sieshiro leaving you on read. Had he grown hesitant and decided that the challenge was not worth it? You felt a smirk come on your lips at the thought of having the upper hand of the argument, managing to have him question his capacity of self restraint. Your train of thoughts was interrupted with the ping of your phone, making your curiosity rouse as you stared at the screen. 

Sei ♡ : Sent an attached image.

Opening the picture you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you took in the sight before you. Nagi had lifted up his jersey the cloth between his teeth, displaying a set of well cut abs with a light sheen of sweat, his jersey shorts being pulled a bit under his adonis belt by his gloved hand, the veins on his forearms prominent, presenting the sinful image of his v lines along with the happy trail that went down into the hem of his shorts. Taking a screenshot of the image, you saw the appearance of a text bubble. 

Sei ♡ : ‘Think you can hold out long? Taking an ss isn’t very nice yk?’ Seishiro smirked at the upper hand he had in the game with you taking the bait. Little did he know about the tricks you had up your sleeve, deciding to online shop for outfits were sure to break his even temper.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x gn! reader #blue lock x you #bllk isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #bllk itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi imagine #itoshi rin imagine #bllk hc #bllk headcannons #bllk imagines #blue lock headcanons #blue lock imagines #blue lock kunigami #kunigami rensuke x gn! reader #kunigami rensuke x reader #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #bachira x you #meguru x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x you

[kingconia]

i saw your thing about Leona with a reader that gets sick easily and may I request that but with Jamil as earlier in November I was getting sick every 2 weeks

-🐍anon

JAMIL VIPER WITH S/O, WHO GETS SICK TOO EASILY

— Even if Jamil tries to deny that, it is useless: he is a natural caretaker, always was and always will;

— He spent all years of his life taking care of someone. His parents, his sister, and Kalim, too. So it is a skill, he cannot lose so easily;

— Thanks to that, Jamil is pretty observant. To the point, where he notices slight shifts in your health even before you do it yourself;

— And when your immune systems weakens, Jamil is instantly worried. Getting sick in the autumn is a one thing, but falling with a fly all over again as you get well—is another;

— In this time, Jamil will make sure to spend all of his time close to you;

— You can also count on the homemade food and a special medicine from his homeland;

— Despite everything, Jamil is a very patient, I think. Though, his genuine worry sometimes might be too much to bear.

•

”Hey, Jamil?”

When you call for him, he is standing not so far, being busy with brewing a tea for you. Even though your voice sound weak, almost as a whisper—you try to suppress a cough, too—he throws a short glance at you, before focusing on his task again.

”Hm?”

”I... I am really sorry that I am ill again,” you say, offering him an awkward, almost ashamed smile. ”I know it is too much. And I don't want to burden you. Yet, thank you for taking care of me.”

Jamil drawls a sigh. It is an exhausted one.

You wait for him to answer something, but he keeps his mouth shut. For a moment, the room is quiet. You hear nothing but a dangling of the spoon in the cup, and as a weakness overcomes, trying to put you in sleep, you think that he will not continue this conversation.

But then, Jamil loudly puts a cup on the bedside table, and sits down in front of you, getting your attention back.

”Why do you think you are burdening me?” He asks, frowning slightly.

”I... I know you get tired from taking care of everything and everyone,” you explain, scrunching your nose. ”I don't want you to be annoyed by me, like with Kalim, you know...”

Jamil rolls his eyes, before pressing a cup to your lips—a delicate way to shut you up for a while. You take a sip.

”Dummy.” He chuckles.

You offer him a displeased sight.

”I am not—”

”Yes, you are,” he shakes his head. ”Y/n, I will never get tired of you. And taking care of you will never annoy me.”

”But—”

”Yes, I am not particularly enthusiastic about being Kalim's caretaker. But is my job," Jamil explains, carefully choosing his words as he does. ”And you are not. You are my family.”

You can't say for sure if you feel so hot because of the rising temperature—which wouldn't surprising—or because of his words—which also wouldn't be surprising—but in the end, you can only glare at the blanket embarrassedly, while gripping it unsurely.

”I love you. And I am glad that you allow me to take care of you,” Jamil continues. And then, he is leaning closer, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead. ”Now, please, shut up and drink the tea. I asked my sister to send herbes here not for you to waste it so foolishly.”

You smile at him tenderly.

”Yes, honey.”

The day you became his soft spot surely was your most lucky one.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #twst jamil

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 15: "What If...?"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4k

a/n: Some hope finally shows up in this installment! There's still a lingering bit of angst though, but I feel like overall this one is hopeful and a little bit frustrating. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie

Picking up a fry from your plate, you took a bite as your eyes wandered around the outdoor dining space. The restaurant you and your co-worker Alicia had met up at for lunch today was as busy as it usually was on a Saturday afternoon. The pair of you had gotten incredibly lucky to even snag a table outside to eat at this time. Despite the bright sunshine of the early November day, the light breeze and the overhead canopy made the restaurant’s patio an absolutely perfect spot this afternoon. Even with the excess noise of the various conversations going on all at once among the tables around you, you felt content. Something you’d noticed you’d felt ever since moving here, even if it often felt like something was missing from LA.

Shortly after you had moved to Los Angeles, you’d quickly connected with Alicia in your office. She had grown up in and around LA and had immediately taken it upon herself to acquaint you with all the best coffee shops, restaurants, and beach spots. She had even taken you out to the best clubs and bars for many a drunken night. The pair of you had quickly become fast friends which had certainly made your transition across the country vastly easier. 

From across the table, you saw Alicia lift her glass of iced tea, drawing it to her lips as she eyed you. You knew what was coming next, because she always delved into the real conversation once you’d both gotten into your food. Raising a brow at her, you expectantly waited for the questions to come.

“So how was last night?” she asked, taking a sip from her glass. “Was this one good? Bad? Mind blowing?”

You couldn’t fight back the laugh, shaking your head as you popped the rest of the fry into your mouth and chewed. Last night you’d had a date–one of many since you’d moved to Los Angeles a little over four months ago. The first few you’d gone on hadn’t amounted to much, ending early and being entirely uneventful. Initially all you found yourself thinking about was Matt’s face and how heartbroken he’d looked when you’d left him back at your apartment that day all those months ago. But as the weeks gradually wore on since you’d been here, you’d repeatedly told yourself that you came here to try to live your life. Slowly you eventually found yourself becoming more open to dating. Because you weren’t about to turn around and run back to New York solely because you missed Matt. 

Which you did. That hollow ache in your chest returned with a vengeance every time you thought about him. You missed Matt. Missed him even more because you’d only gotten one single message from him shortly after you arrived here. It had been a text, too. Something Matt never generally sent you because you knew he hated the voice to text application on his phone. All it said was ‘I hope you find your happiness.’ You hadn’t even responded back because every time you re-read his message you broke down in tears. 

You hadn’t spoken to Matt in months because of it. You’d become too afraid to reach out to him the more time passed on, too. And whether it was because it hurt him too much, or he thought you didn’t want to speak to him, or he was trying to give you space, or he wanted nothing to do with you now, you never heard from him, either. Though you did speak to Karen and Foggy often. Karen had started her first semester at Columbia and was working on her law degree with the help of Matt and Foggy. She was also still trying to juggle working in the office with them when she could throughout the week. And Foggy apparently had been getting more serious with Marci while also keeping you updated about how well Nelson and Murdock had been doing. 

But neither of them ever told you much about Matt, and you were always too afraid to ask.

So you’d found yourself going on dates. Sleeping around a bit more than you ever had before. You figured your old roommate at Columbia would’ve been proud of you with how much sex you’d been having for once in your life. You sure knew Alicia enjoyed hearing the stories every Saturday afternoon over lunch. 

“He was good,” you said, answering Alicia’s question as you picked up another fry. “I certainly wouldn’t say mind blowing, though. I don’t think I’ve come across mind blowing sex yet.”

“Well that’s a damn shame,” she replied, setting her glass back onto the table. “So if you had to pick between LA men and New York men, which do you prefer?”

Your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead at her question. Across the table, Alicia sent you a mischievous grin before taking a bite out of her panini.

“That’s sort of hard to answer,” you told her, biting off another piece of fry. “I mean, what am I judging this by? The amount of men that want to have sex with me? How attractive I find them? Their general attitudes towards relationships?”

“All of it,” she said as she swallowed her bite of food. “I want an overall answer and a breakdown for each category.”

You laughed at her, shaking your head. “What is this? One of Scott’s impromptu meetings?” you teased back. “At least he gives me smoothies made out of lawn clippings before he shakes me down for those.”

Alicia snorted in response, a hand coming up to cover her mouth as she tried not to spit out her food while she laughed. It was true though, your boss here was a big fan of impromptu meetings. And also green smoothies.

“Okay, if I had to pick an overall winner solely based on those categories, I’d say Los Angeles men have New York men beat,” you answered. “But only because they take the win in both sex and physical appearance–which I’m thinking is because most of them spend their time shirtless at the beach. And apparently all the men out here want to do is just have sex. But that means most men here aren’t too interested in dating. Or at least, the guys I keep meeting aren’t. They just want a quick hookup. Or a no-strings attached casual thing with zero commitment.”

“Well you seem to be enjoying those,” Alicia pointed out. “With the amount of flings I’ve heard you having.”

You shrugged a shoulder, your focus dropping down to your plate of half-eaten food. Your stomach knotted a little as Matt’s face came to your mind. You missed that soft, warm smile he used to shoot you when you entered a room. You even missed the shit-eating grin he always made as he threw out one of his sarcastic jokes. 

“What?” she asked, leaning forward towards you and catching your eye again. “You mean to tell me the plethora of sex isn’t what you want?”

You shrugged again. “No, not really,” you heard yourself admitting. “I wish the men I met were more interested in second dates that weren’t just an excuse for more sex. I feel like I haven’t actually gotten to know anyone on a date since I’ve been here. It’s always just empty flirtatious banter and sex. There’s no… depth .”

“Mmm,” Alicia hummed with a nod, her focus returning to her food. “Now you know why I’m still single.”

You sighed lightly, picking up a fry and toying with it. Last night had been fun, but honestly you were tired of repeatedly going on first dates that didn’t go anywhere. And you were starting to get tired of having sex and then one of you inevitably needing to get dressed and disappear immediately afterwards. It truthfully wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted something more .

“All the LA men can’t compare to the one you left back in New York, though, can they?” 

Your attention shifted back to Alicia as her question hung heavy in the air. She was staring at you with that knowing look on her face as she sat back in her chair.

“I didn’t leave him, exactly,” you corrected her. “He wasn’t–wasn’t exactly mine in the first place to leave.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Not the point,” she said. “You miss him. All the sleeping around and constant dates–it was either to forget him or to try to find someone else. But you can’t, can you? I see it on your face every time we talk about your love life.”

“I mean I was trying to find someone out here,” you admitted. “I was open to it. But it just doesn’t seem like the men I meet are open to anything real .”

“Or,” Alicia said, pointing a finger at you, “you’re not really willing to try to find someone else because you’re still in love with Mr. NYC Lawyer.”

You shook your head quickly. “I don’t think that’s–”

“Admit it,” Alicia said, cutting you off. “You’re in love with him still.”

“Well I mean it’s–it’s not like you just fall out of love with someone,” you told her. “Especially when it’s been years that you’ve had feelings for the person.”

“You know what I don’t get?” she asked you, picking her iced tea back up. “Why you both don’t try long distance dating. I mean, it’s not convenient, but like…if there’s something there, why aren’t either of you trying?”

“Because he was with someone before I left,” you reminded her. “He had been considering proposing to her.”

“That was months ago now,” she pointed out. “Why are you holding back?”

“I–I haven’t heard from him,” you admitted.

Alicia pointed a finger at your cell phone sitting on the table beside your water. Your eyes guiltily dropped down towards it.

“You’ve got a phone and perfectly functioning fingers,” she said. “You’re just as capable of reaching out as he is. You’re just scared.”

Eyes lingering on the phone beside you, you felt nerves suddenly shaking loose in your gut. Because she was right. You were scared to reach out to Matt. 

“Maybe I am,” you whispered.

Because what if he had moved on? What if he’d gotten back with Erica and things had gotten serious? Or he’d met someone new and he’d fallen in love with them? Or if he had somehow grown pissed that you’d left him and now he wanted nothing to do with you?

Or what if he still wanted you as much as you wanted him? What then?

A knock on his office door caused Matt to stop his typing, his head swiveling in the direction of the noise. He knew it was Karen and not Foggy standing there wanting to speak with him, he could tell from the scent of her shampoo and light perfume that was still noticeable past the smell of food lingering on her–she must’ve picked lunch up for the office. He noticed her heart was beating a little nervously in her chest though, which had Matt’s eyes narrowing curiously behind his glasses.

“Hey, I grabbed lunch from that deli nearby,” she said, her tone a little timid. “And I uh, was hoping to talk to you and Fog about something. If that’s alright?”

“Sure,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair and focusing on her. “What’s going on, Karen?”

“Well I–I was hoping to talk to you both,” she repeated nervously. “Fog’s over at my desk and I can’t actually stay for lunch because I have that exam today.”

“Right, yeah,” Matt said, adjusting his tie. “I forgot you had that today.”

“Yeah, I figured you and Foggy have had a busy week,” she continued. “That’s why I grabbed you guys lunch. I had a feeling you both would work right through it if I didn’t and you guys need to take better care of yourselves during the day. You’re both running yourselves ragged.”

Matt rose from his chair, making his way around his desk. He heard the way Karen turned and began making her way back towards her own desk in the main part of the office. Matt followed out of the room behind her.

“Well you certainly need to take care of yourself, too,” he pointed out. “You’ve been doing a lot for us around here while still focusing on your classes.”

“Yeah,” Foggy cut in, “you really do need to take a few minutes to yourself.”

Matt heard Karen’s hands fidgeting together as she expelled a light laugh. He could hear the nervous edge to it though, which only further had Matt wondering what was going on with her.

“It’s funny you should say that, actually,” Karen began. “Because as you both know, I’ve been really busy between this first semester at Columbia and keeping things running as smoothly as possible here at the firm.”

“And you’ve been doing amazing at both,” Matt assured her immediately.

“You’re a literal saint and we don’t deserve you,” Foggy added.

Matt could feel the heat rising in Karen’s cheeks as she blushed. The nervous edge didn’t leave her though as she stopped beside her desk. To Matt it sounded like her pulse was quickly increasing again.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Karen said carefully. “I’m coming up on winter break and I had this crazy idea and I was hoping you guys would be okay with it.”

“Shoot,” Foggy replied instantly.

Matt heard Karen say your name, aware that she’d sent him an apologetic look as she did. Foggy and Karen didn’t often talk about you around him since you’d left. They always told him that he tended to get quiet and moody whenever they did. And hearing it now, uttered when he wasn’t expecting it, had his heart clenching in his chest.

“We uh, we’ve been talking about me coming out to visit her for a few weeks now,” Karen continued slowly, her focus shifting back and forth between himself and Foggy as she spoke. “I know we all have–have missed her, but I also know you guys are too busy here to just disappear on a trip to LA. But I was hoping that…you both wouldn’t mind if I took a few days? To go see her? Get away from the cold weather here for a bit and take a break from all the stress these past few months have brought me?”

“How long are you thinking?” Foggy asked.

“Like…four or five days?” Karen nervously answered. “Basically a week?”

Matt could hear the way Foggy’s attention shifted to him across the room, his eyebrows raising. But he also could hear the way his own heart was rapidly pounding in his chest. He tried hard not to think about you too much, though admittedly he failed often at that. You were almost a near constant thought on his mind unless he was buried in work or busy as the Devil late at night. 

He missed you. Every second of every day it felt like. He’d had absolutely no interest in trying to date since you’d left, always ridiculously hoping today would be the day you decided to come back to Hell’s Kitchen. But he knew you weren’t going to come back. From what he’d gathered from Karen and Foggy, you were enjoying the LA weather and your new job. You were doing good. And he was happy that you were, even if there was a sharp pain that physically shot through his chest whenever he thought about you. 

He hadn’t heard from you since you moved, either. Matt hadn’t known what to make of that. He’d sent you a text, not wanting to overstep his boundaries by calling you, but also not wanting to just let you go from his life. But you’d never reached out to him after that. Not in the five months since you’d been gone. You spoke to Karen and Foggy every day, though. He knew there was a group chat that you three were always texting in, but Matt wasn’t a part of it. He did his best to try and not let it bother him, but it did. Because he still wanted to be someone in your life, but he felt like he’d finally told you that he loved you only just to lose you completely. 

“What do you think, Matt?” Foggy asked, drawing him back to the moment. “I think we can manage a week without her, don’t you?”

Matt cleared his throat, thankful the glasses on his face were hiding the tears building in his eyes. He nodded quickly, his hands landing on his hips.

“Yeah, I think so,” he said, his voice off even to his own ears. “When were you thinking of going, though?”

“Next week?” Karen asked hopefully. 

“Oh,” Matt whispered.

“We should still be fine,” Foggy said quickly. “I don’t think this case will go on past this week, we’re nearing the end of it. So yeah, I say go have fun in LA. Say hi to our girl for us. Maybe even get her to do a video chat sometime because I haven’t seen her in forever and I miss her.”

Matt stood there, his fingers digging into his own hips uncomfortably. He missed the sound of your voice. Missed the scent of you. Missed the feel of you in his arms even if he could only ever seem to recall you crying in them lately.

“Yeah, we’ll–we’ll be fine,” Matt muttered, his mind still on thoughts of you.

“Okay, great!” Karen said, her tone bright as the nervous edge dissipated. “I have to run to my exam, but once I finish that I’m going to call her and get things figured out. Book a flight and all of that.”

“You deserve the time to relax!” Foggy told her. “You’ve been working your ass off!”

Matt was barely present as he wished Karen good luck and thanked her for lunch before she was leaving the office in an excited buzz. He longingly wished it was him getting to go see you in LA. He wished that you’d actually want him to come visit. He doubted you would.

The second Karen had left, Foggy hadn’t wasted a moment before going through the paper bag of food on her desk, digging out what Matt could easily tell was a meatball sub along with Matt’s usual turkey and avocado sandwich. Admittedly he didn’t have much of an appetite though, not after Karen had brought you up. 

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” Foggy asked, cutting through the silence that had fallen in Karen’s absence. “You’ve got that sad puppy look on your face.”

Matt quickly cleared his throat again, shaking his head as he reached out, accepting the sandwich Foggy had offered to him. 

“I do not have a sad puppy look,” he muttered.

“You do, but that’s not the point here,” Foggy countered. “Karen brought her up and now you’re thinking about her. It’s all over your face, Matt. You miss her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Matt replied, turning and making his way back to his office.

“Yes it does!” Foggy snapped.

  Matt stopped mid-step at Foggy’s unexpected outburst. His hand tightened around the sandwich, his teeth grinding together. He could feel the burn of tears in his eyes but he fought them down. He didn’t want to have this conversation again with Foggy. He was tired of it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated firmly. “We’ve been over this countless times, Fog. She made her choice. She knows how I feel and she’s never reached out to me. And she’s–she’s happy where she is now. So I’m happy for her. End of story.”

“ Call . Her ,” Foggy forcefully ordered.

Something snapped inside of Matt as he spun on his heel, a mixture of hurt and anger coursing through him. He focused on his best friend, his shoulders squared as the words flew from his lips.

“And tell her what , Fog?” Matt growled, voice low. “That I miss her? That I want her to come back to Hell’s Kitchen and be with me? That I fall asleep every night wishing she was there beside me instead of falling asleep in an empty bed night after night?” He took a step closer to Foggy, feeling the fight quickly falling out of his friend with the more he said. “Am I supposed to beg her, Fog? Guilt her? Pester her until she gives up what she wants? Is that what you want me to do?”

“No,” Foggy weakly replied, shaking his head. “No, Matt it’s not. But–”

Matt held up a hand, cutting his friend clean off. “No, Fog. She’s happy. She’s told you and Karen as much. And I–I love her,” he continued, the words coming out sounding as broken as Matt felt inside. “Which means I won’t ruin this for her. I’m not going to ask anything of her. She knows how I feel.”

“But what if she misses you, too?” Foggy questioned him earnestly. “What if she still loves you, Matt? What if she’s been in LA wondering why you haven’t reached out to her?”

“I reached out to her,” Matt countered. 

“You sent her a text, Matt,” Foggy pointed out flatly. “ One text. You’ve never even tried to call her.”

“She’s never tried to call me,” Matt shot back. “She never even responded to my text, Fog. I told her I have loved her for years and she left me. She left . I think she made it quite clear what she wants.”

Matt heard Foggy drop his sandwich onto Karen’s desk, his heavy footfalls hurriedly making their way over to him. He tracked Foggy’s movements with his head, surprise jolting through him when Foggy grabbed onto the lapels of his suit coat with both hands firmly.

“I want you to listen to me loud and clear, man, because I’m tired of saying this to you,” Foggy began. “She’s been in love you with you for years , Matt. That does not go away over a few weeks or months! Call her !”

Matt’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to control his emotions. His throat felt like it was closing up on him; the subject of you always had this effect on him, even before he'd known you’d felt the same way.

“What if–” he began, stopping when he struggled to get the words to come out. “What if she’s moved on with someone else, Fog? What if she doesn't want me? What if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

Foggy lightly shook Matt by the lapels of his suit coat as if he was trying to shake some sense into him. Matt frowned at the gesture immediately, but that didn't deter Foggy’s enthusiasm.

“But what if she hasn’t moved on to someone else?” Foggy countered. “What if she does want to talk to you, Matt? What if she’s still in love with you?”

“But I’m never going to move to LA,” Matt reminded his friend. “And she’s happy there. How would anything even work between us? Because I will not ask her to choose me, Fog. You know I won’t.”

“Maybe she would choose you because she wants to, buddy,” Foggy told him gently. “Just–just give it some thought, okay? Don’t wait another almost seven years to actually try with her. Because you’ll never know what could’ve been if all you do is keep playing this game of what if’s, Matt.”

Foggy’s words settled in Matt’s mind, the weight of them too heavy to ignore. Matt still felt uncertain though, because surely if you wanted him in your life you’d have tried to keep him there, right? But you hadn’t tried at all. So what did that mean?

Nodding solemnly back at Foggy, Matt said, “I’ll think about it. But I don’t want to burst into her life and ruin what she already has going on. If she’s been trying to move past this–past me –it’s better if I leave her alone and let her.”

Turning back around, Matt quietly ducked his head and made his way back to his office. A myriad of what if’s were in fact running through his mind as he closed the door behind himself. But as he made his way over to his chair behind his desk, settling into it, there was one question that kept repeating louder than the others.

What if he was misreading you again?

[END NOTES]

Yes! More end notes! Those of you who follow me on AO3 know how much I love them 😅

We get BOTH point of views in this installment! It's been about four/five months now since Reader has moved to LA as we see here and she is certainly out trying to live her best life, but as probably expected, she hasn't forgotten about Matt entirely. While she's been out having fun and quite a few one-night stands, she's quickly realizing she wants something serious. The pointless sex isn't cutting it for her. And Matt is apparently in Hell's Kitchen pining over Reader while she's gone, too. But...neither of them are talking to each other. And both are seemingly a bit too stubborn or scared to reach out. Even if their friends are trying to knock some sense into them. But Karen is soon on her way to visit Reader in LA, so maybe her visit and a certain video chat will help get these two talking again?

The next installment for this series is just over half written already, but I still have no title for it yet. I'm not sure how soon I'll post it, but we are very much nearing the comfort and happy parts of this series! And smut. I did promise eventual smut for this one.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock series #daredevil #daredevil angst

[louloulemons-posts]

Sand and Suncream

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Reader, Eddie and their friends have a beach day.

Word count : 1.1k

Warnings : FLUFF, not proofread, petnames, reader calls him Teddy, swears, hating on summer lmao, play fighting, the sea

A/N : this is for all of my fellow summer sufferers, who can’t wait for the cold to come back! Also i’ve head cannoned eddie as a november baby, he gives off big scorpio vibes!

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

It had reached the cooler part of summer, the early autumn breeze blowing in. The trees were turning from green to brown, but there was still a beautiful warmth.

You and Eddie weren’t people who loved the warm, if anything you suffered through it. Eddies thick locks making his head melt and your want for winter making you almost miserable.

Of course your friends thought you were crazy. Just to get them off your backs you had decided to go to the beach with them. It wasn’t too hot, and there were some clouds to save you from the scorching sun.

“Why did we agree to this again?” Eddie asked, clad in a black tank top and shorts.

“I was going to say it’s because we love our friends, but honestly I don’t know at this point.”

Eddie pulled into the parking lot by the beach, next to Steve. Robin waved wildly, also wearing shorts, but a blue crop top on her upper half. “You made it!” she smiled, hugging you as you walked over.

“Of course we did, we were scared you’d kill us if not,” Eddie explained.

“Come on Munson, it’s just the beach,” an eye roll from Harrington.

“It’s just the beach,” he mocked Steve’s voice, “I’m a November baby.”

“Come on! I wanna go in the sea, come with me?” Robin asked you.

Nodding, you grabbed your beach bag, setting it down once you’d found the perfect place. Sliding off your own shorts, you spoke to Robin, “Have you got suncream on?”

“Mhm. Forced Dingus over there to put some on too.”

“What is it with boys and suncream?” you asked. “Honestly!”

“We’re right here you know?” Steve spoke, hands on hips. “Yeah, suncream is gross, makes you all sticky and yuck,” Eddie shivered.

You kissed his cheek, “I’d rather you be sticky and yuck than be burned and get skin cancer. Now let me get your hair out of your face.”

Pulling a hair tie off your wrist you knelt behind Eddie, pulling all of his curls into a loose bun, that sat just above his neck. “Thank you,” he said, pecking your nose.

“That’s enough Lovebirds, let’s go in the sea!” Robin grabbed you hand and dragged you down to the water. She sprinted ahead, falling in and soaking herself, because of course she did.

“Oh my god, it’s so cold,” she whined, you could only laugh at her. Making your way in slowly so you could get used to the temperature, you sighed.

It was so nice, compared to the hot sand, the icy water was beautiful. Robin swamp deeper into the water, you following behind happily, hoping to cool off some more

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d decided to have lunch on the beach, having packed come sandwiches, fruit and other little things that you could pick on. Oh and of course, Uncle Wayne’s famous Sweet tea.

Leaning your head on Eddie, you sipped your drink humming in delight. “I really need Wayne to give me the recipe. I just want it all the time!” you exclaimed.

“If anyone could persuade him on giving it up, it’d be you,” Eddie kissed the top of your head, picking up a sandwich.

“We all need more suncream on in a minute,” Robin spoke. The two boys groaned. “Don’t be babies,” you said to them.

Once lunch was finished, you had to tackle Eddie. Sat on his lower back with his chest on the floor, you smeared suncream everywhere.

He’d taken off his vest and you had explained, people like him and Steve who had loads of freckles and beauty marks caught the sun more. Eddie more so, as his arms, chest and torso were littered in tattoos. “Let me look after you, you little shit!”

When you and Eddie first started dating you noticed the freckles that appeared on him when he’d been in the sun, and his rich chocolate curls, lightened, golden streaks throughout.

“Roll over,” you said, lifting yourself off him. In all honestly he could have easily got you off of him, but he did love you caring for him. Melted his heart.

“Face now,” you spoke and he whined, “Teddy come on, sooner I put it on the sooner it’ll dry.”

“Fine,” he pouted. You leaned down to kiss it away.

Steve and Robin weren’t being as sweet, the girl grabbing him by the legs and forcing him to have the cream on. She almost scalped him at one point.

“Close your eyes Teds,” you said softly, rubbing the cream into his face and neck gently. “All done pretty boy. Now can you help me?”

“Sure Sweetheart.” She took the bottle from your hands and started to rub it in to your shoulder and neck, whilst you did your legs and arms. “Want me to do your face?”

“Mm, please.” He was just as careful as you, never wanting to hurt you. Covering your face in a layer of the cream he smiled, kissing you. “All done.”

“Come in the water with me? It’s nice and cool.” You offered your hand to him, which he took without hesitation. The pair of you wandering down to the water leaving a squabbling Steve and Robin on the towels.

With linked fingers you and Eddie entered the ocean, he sighed in relief. “Okay you were right, this is nice.”

“Did you, Edward Munson, say I was right?” you teased. “I take it back.”

“Too late, you’ve inflated my ego now.”

“Didn’t know it could go up anymore.”

“Rude!” you splashed at him.

“Oh you’re in for it now.” He sent water flying your way, making you squeal at the cold. He grabbed for you, “No no! Teddy please!” you begged.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he lifted you up. “Please!” He laughed at that, placing you down gently, keeping his arms around you. Back to his chest, the waves hit lightly against your tummy.

Resting his head on your shoulder, Eddie kissed your neck. Humming in contentment. “This is nice.”

“It is isn’t it?”

“Mhm, still can’t wait for Halloween though.”

“Me neither, and then theres your birthday!”

“Oh god.”

“It’ll be fun! We don’t have to do anything extravagant, we’ll do whatever you want?”

“What if we went away for a few days, just me and you?”

“Like a holiday?” he hummed a yes. “If that’s what you want. It’ll be nice to steal you away for a few days.”

“Want me all to yourself?” he cocked a brow. “Oh you know it babe,” leaning back you kissed the underside of his jaw.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Teddy.”

That’s when you knew, maybe summer days weren’t all that bad.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : i have realised i haven’t made many summer-y fics and i saw this fanart by @yamonotto (on twitter) and another by @chloerchain and knew i needed to write something!

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joesph quinn #joesph quinn imagine #fluff #imagine #oneshot #summer #louloulemons

[theesirenteller]

maybeee a little domestic Drabble btwn my faves before the night ends?!😂👀👀👀

*•.¸♡ 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙨𝙠 ♡¸.•*

Every November Christopher caught the flu. Like clockwork, it came and slipped into his system like a thief in the night. Usually, he would pump himself with various herbal teas, supplements, and any other immune-boosting products a month before so that the cold would come and go. He couldn't afford to miss out on work for longer than a few days. He could afford it but he didn't want to or like to. This year he didn't prepare due to not remembering. He had a lot more on his plate these days with juggling around new business ventures, plotting around keeping a certain councilwoman out of his hair and being back in a serious relationship. So when that Mucus monster hit him, it hit him hard.

He was currently lying across the couch in his apartment with his headphones tucked snugly against his ears. His arm draped across his eyes as he tried to drown out the body pain and discomfort he felt on the inside. This was the faze of body pains, sore, fever, and a sore throat. He had been past the mucus, stomach aches, and chills.

A light tap on his chest caused him to remove his hand from his face and open his eyes. Only to be faced with Epiphany seated beside him with a glass mug of bright yellow liquid, "I ain't drink'n that shit again," he stated with a horse tone. His eyes lowered and glared as his lips held a permanent scowl.

Which caused Epiphany to giggle, "Yes you are. If it wasn't for this 'shit' you'd be still sounding like a cat loaded with hairballs." She caressed the side of his face with the back of her hand, "aw papíto, you're still so hot." she pouted.

"Come on...just a few sips." she coos in an attempt to sway him.

Christopher stared at her, His eyes trailed along her face and body as he inhaled deeply.

He slowly sat up wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his arms. Epiphany huffed at the sudden overwhelming sensation of heat that overwhelmed her body. He laid his head against her chest, snuggling his chest against her breast as Epiphany hugged him tightly. 'my poor baby' she thought to herself until she heard glass click against the wood. "Hey! Come on you still have to-Chris!" Epiphany's bickering ended with a sudden yelp as he flipped her onto her back on the couch.

"Better luck next time champ." He chuckled before placing a kiss on her head as he hovered over her.

"Ew!" Epiphany squirmed with a huff as she smacked her hands against his chest, "Get your zombie ass off me."

"Aw, that hurts." He chuckled deeply with a mocking tone as he stood up, "That ain't what you said last night though. What was it again? 'oh papi ven a dormir dentro de mi te extraño'," (come sleep inside me I miss you) he mocked her, raising his voice to a lighter tone.

"Whatever, it's your fault I'm needy." She dismissed with an eye roll with her cheeks blushing red.

"And I ain't complaining," Christopher called over his shoulder as he made his way across the living room and collected his black high-top sneakers from the closet.

"Where are you going?" Epiphany questioned as she sat up.

"Back to work." He replied with a flat tone.

"You-"

"Hey, Daddy! yikes, you like the little girl from the ring." Marcus interrupted the pair by running into the living room from his bedroom.

Almost as if both Marcus and Epiphany had jinked him, Christopher started coughing. Strained and rough mucus-filled coughs left his mouth causing both Marcus and Epiphany to squeal in disgust.

"Ew!"

#theesirenteller fanfic #theesirentellerstories #rio; dealer fanfic #fuck beth boland #rio good girls #good girls nbc #rio imagine #rio gg

[coffeeghoulie]

well you KNOW im gonna come in here and ask for mountrain. whatever your heart desires so long as theyre disgustingly in love abt it ♡

i gotchu <3 it's been a Hot Minute since I've written mountrain, hopefully this is sappy enough lmao

Winter peeks around the corner, temperatures dropping with the leaves, everything dreary and grey before the first inevitable snowfall covers the dead vegetation, brown grass and barren trees. Mountain slips out of bed and makes the trek down to his greenhouse every morning, long before the sun rises, to make sure his plants, his babies, are ready before the snow chokes the life out of them.

He can feel the coldspell incoming, feels it in the way the his joints start aching, deep in the bone. He swallows hard, looking at the work he has in front of him. The glass panels need to be inspected for damage, replaced and insulated. The pipes need to be drained, so they don't freeze and burst. All of his fragile plants need to be covered and brought inside. The whole building needs to be cleaned, top to bottom, including his makeshift nest area in the back corner.

It's necessary work, Mountain knows it, has done it every fall for years. It still doesn't mean he likes doing it. It's, for lack of a better term, a mountain of work. But it has to get done. So Mountain squares his shoulders in the pre-dawn darkness and gets to work.

He loses himself in it, doing his best to ignore his sore joints as he hauls potted plants inside, checking over each leaf and stem for disease. He works, making countless trips in and out of the freezing air as the sun starts peeking out over the treeline, tinging the dark sky with pinks and oranges, the budding light softening the florescents that light the greenhouse.

It's quiet work, almost meditative, which means he jumps nearly a foot off of the ground when someone knocks at the door. Mountain spins, very nearly dropping the potted petunias he's hauling in. His heartrate calms as he realizes it's his mate, waving at him through the glass. He smiles, warmth spreading in his chest, gesturing for Rain to come in.

Rain slips into the greenhouse, latching the door behind him. He's got two large thermoses tucked under his arms, and Mountain groans in appreciation, striding over to his mate and taking the thermos Rain offers to him.

"G'morning, sunflower," Rain says, voice sticky with sleep. He's clearly just woken up, pulled on one of Mountain's sweatshirts, the hem coming down to his mid thigh, over his pajamas and made the journey out to the greenhouse in the cold November morning just to bring him tea.

"Morning, tadpole," Mountain says, cupping Rain's jaw with a big hand, leaning down to steal a kiss from his mate. His skin is cool to the touch, and Mountain tries to push his body heat into his mate like a fire ghoul would.

Rain hums, shivering as Mountain's pinkie brushes against his uppermost gill. "Bed was cold," he whispers against Mountain's lips. "You'd been gone so long, figured you might like something hot to drink."

Mountain pulls back, reluctantly letting go of his mate's face to crack open the thermos. He's hit with the herbal scent of his favorite tea, steaming up and curling around him. He takes a sip, eyes fluttering shut as the taste hits him.

"I love you, tadpole," Mountain says, groaning as he greedily drinks down his preferred green tea blend, the one he adds mint to. Rain knows just how he likes his tea, two spoons of honey from the hives he keeps.

Rain grins, flashing his serrated, shark like teeth before taking a swig from his own thermos, the smell of chai drifting from his. "Love you too, Mount," he says, leaning in to nuzzle against his shoulder, not quite awake enough to fuss over the dirt that always, inevitably, ends up caked on Mountain's clothes while he works.

Mountain sets down the thermos, turning back to the water ghoul and wrapping his arms around his waist. Rain smiles wider, looping his arms around Mountain's neck, standing up on his tiptoes to do so. "Hey, baby," Rain laughs. "What's up with you?"

He sighs, Rain's smile contagious. Mountain ducks down and presses a kiss between Rain's seaglass horns. "So glad I met you," he whispers against the blue black waves of his hair, mussed from sleep.

Rain nods minutely. "Me too."

The world shrinks until it's just the two of them, no cold bed, no ever-looming snow. They stand there, basking in the warm humidity of the greenhouse and each other's presence. Everything smells of green tea and plant life and rich, warm earth.

Eventually, Rain pulls back. "It's cold, sunflower, how are your hands holding up?"

Mountain makes a noncommittal noise, but Rain levels him with a glare, and his shoulders slump. "A little stiff," he admits, removing one hand from Rain's slight waist, examining the redness at his knuckles, wind-whipped and raw.

Rain hums, snatching Mountain's hand in between his own. "Oh, baby, that looks like it hurts," he says, rubbing his thumb over his tender knuckles. "I know you've got that balm somewhere, the one with the aloe and the calendula?"

"It's back by my bed," Mountain says. "I'll put some on when I've finished this."

"Nope." Rain chuckles, slipping out of Mountain's grasp and rummaging through the cabinet near Mountain's personal corner. "You've been at this for hours, sunflower, we're putting some of that on, and we're going to take a cuddle break, and then I will help you get the greenhouse finished, okay?"

Mountain smiles as Rain returns with the tin of balm, already opening it and taking a dollop of it. "Alright, tadpole."

Rain takes his hands, rubbing the ointment into Mountain's knuckles, tenderly caressing the damaged skin. He works in silence, before capping the balm and taking Mountain by the hand, leading him back to the daybed he keeps in the corner.

Mountain kicks off his muddy boots before laying down, opening his arms for his mate. Rain follows suit, unlacing his boots before tucking himself into the crook of Mountain's arm, snuggling into the earth ghoul's embrace.

"I love you," Rain whispers, eyes slipping shut.

Mountain yawns, long and low. "I love you too."

#had to consult the Nickname Spreadsheet for this one #brought to you by my daylight savings inflicted SAD #fic request #forlorn-crows #mountain/rain #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #dot's writing #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction

[a-simple-imagine]

That Warm Christmas Feeling

Synopsis: Your spending the holidays with Jordan but you wake up feeling hot…

Pairing: Jordan Li x fem!reader

Words: 1k+

A/N - Happy holidays my lovelies. I woke up feeling absolutely awful which sucks but here’s a little gift. It's short and messy but enjoy.

WARNINGS - swearing

a blanket of white snow paved the way for joyful celebration and family festivities. the festive season had been deep in your bones since late November. the cheesy Christmas movies. the bright flashing lights. and jolly old men in beards. you never cared much for the festive season by any means, it almost seemed like too much but you were making a conscious effort to try and enjoy it. you want the first holiday season together to feel even just a little special. you had been dragging them along to all kinds of festive events. you had been ice skating and drank hot chocolate. Christmas shopping around the markets. it was all just fun and games. the main event was to take place at their home. your first time meeting their parents. it seemed like such a big step for a rather new relationship but you weren’t against the idea. it would be fun.

a loud groan forces its way past your lips as you roll onto your back. a dull ache settles deep in your bones. a thick fog invades your head as your brain throbs. a blocked, tickly nose. great. you’re sick. on Christmas day of all days. you pull the covers up over your head to escape the sun peaking through the windows. couldn’t have picked a worse day. “good morning,” whispered in your ear. there’s an edge of excitement to their voice. their hand comes up to remove the duvet and reveal your less-than-pleased expression. You move away from them, burying your fave deeper into the pillow. “You good? I thought you'd be more excited. My parents have a full day planned, you're gonna love it.”

A pit of guilt or nausea grows in your stomach. You really wanna get up and enjoy the day but you also just wanna go back to sleep. “Please don't be mad,” you mumble against the fabric of the pillow.

“Why would I be mad?”

“I feel like shit,” you admit. “I think I'm sick.”

“Oh,” there's a pause that almost allows you to drift off again. “That's shit.”

“I’m sorry,”

“no no don’t be,” they reassure you. “You should stay in bed if you're not feeling up to it.”

“is that okay?” you ask quietly.

“Sure, they’ll understand. go back to sleep and I’ll check on you in a little bit, okay?” your only answer is a slow nod that pushes the fabric of the pillow roughly across your cheek. The door clicks shut and you drift off into sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

The time is a mystery when your eyes flicker open next. The world doesn't feel real as your head hammers with an uncertain pain. You sniffle as you fall onto your back. That's when you spot Jordan approaching with a steaming hot beverage in their hand. “How you feeling?” you just groan extra loudly emphasising just how awful you felt about the entire situation. “so good then yeah,” the bed dips beside you and he reaches over with a free hand to check your head. you don’t feel particularly hot so it probably wasn’t a fever. “Mom made you some tea, said it’d fix you right up but don’t feel like you have to.”

pushing up into a seated position, Jordan hands over a mug decorated with little Christmas trees and snowflakes. a heavy sigh leaves your lips. it really did feel like more effort than it was worth just sitting up straight. you take a cautious sip and warmth spills through your veins. “I feel like I ruined today,” you mumble into your cup. staring down at the swirling liquid. “I should have mentioned earlier.”

“you didn’t ruin anything,” Jordan expresses, a calming hand placed on your leg over the covers. “it’s not your fault you got sick.”

“I haven’t really felt great the last couple days but I thought it’d just go away.” you shrug, taking a much larger sip. “I really wanted to do Christmasy things with you. your parents probably think I’m awful.”

“They don’t think that,” they chuckle softly. “just focus on getting better and we can do Christmasy things tomorrow. they won’t mind.”

“thank you for the tea,” you reply handing back the drink.

“and besides,” he takes the drink back. “you’re giving me an excuse to get away from them. I need a break every now and then.“are you hungry?” you shake your head slowly. falling back down against the bed.

“tired.”

they just chuckle. “I’m gonna sit here a moment longer before I brace my parents again. just ignore me.”

the room is shrouded in darkness when Jordan enters once more. a crack of light filtering through the door. you don’t bother acknowledging them; just pull the thick duvet closer to your chest. a heavy sigh fills the air but it doesn’t come from you. the bed dips beside you. “are you awake?” they ask but you don’t bother answering. a silence a silence falls over the room as they shuffle about doing god only knows what. “I’m sorry you got sick,” Jordan speaks aloud. “I wish you could have spent the day with us. my parents can be a lot but they do go all out for Christmas… and I was looking forward to giving you your present,” their voice is quiet and you’re not sure if you should admit to being awake now. “my parents would have loved it. they’re already obsessed with you and they’re so happy I finally brought someone home. and I was gonna tell you I love you” After a moment you know they’re climbing into bed with you. an arm around your waist. you roll over to face them. “maybe tomorrow.”

“you’re gonna get sick,” mumbled out.

“I don’t mind,”

“Are you sure?”

“mhmm,” hummed softly and you don’t bother arguing. you just snuggle closer to his chest. they feel safe and comforting. a welcomed addition to your cosy domain. “I’m glad you’re here,”

“I’m glad you’re here,” you repeat against their chest. “and for what it’s worth. I… love you too.”

“you heard all that,” you don’t respond just shuffle further into his embrace. falling asleep to the sound of their heartbeat as a gentle kiss is pressed against your head.

#jordan li #gen v #jordan li x reader #jordan li x you #the boys

[maevearcher]

L - words

Loneliness. Just another L - word.

It is raining again, November descending heavy upon the world like an omen - good or bad, such a thing was not for mere mortals to decide. Just like the oh-so-many Novembers that slithered their serpentinely long days over the lives of men.

...There it is, the familiar whirring of the computer fans, the blue gleam of the screens in the semi-obscurity of the otherwise austere room, the rhythmical clatter as his fingers run over the keyboard, his mind waging its endless war against the famished darkness of injustice. There he is, my beloved L.

It is no longer just a game for him, not after almost twenty years. If I'm to be honest, I don't believe it was ever that simple, no matter how many times I've heard it, from him, from Near, from Mello - it still hurts to think of Mello, and i guess it always will. That is not a wound L will ever heal from.

He is still gorgeous to me. It's like time barely touched him at all, if not for the little smattering of grey at his temples and the glasses he's still pretending to forget. His posture is less rigid in front of the computers - the orthopedic pillows I bought him seem to be doing their job.

"Maeve?" he calls out to me, his voice the same low monotone. "Could you please bring me some warm tea, if you can?"

He holds his favorite cup out to me, barely glancing at me for one second - he knows I'm here. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't feel more...taken for granted, the way he's only emerging from his cocoon in his own good time. But when he does emerge, there's so much warmth and care he clads me in, that I'm never left wondering about what's in his heart.

"Thank you," he smiles, as his fingers close around mine after I bring his...sugar with tea - yet another thing that has remained the same.

"Will you be long tonight?" I ask him, my hand warm on his still hunched shoulders.

He just hums in response, taking a long sip of his tea. "Just...reflecting."

I know what he's reflecting on. It's not like, tonight of all nights, the thought would be far from my mind as well. But it's him I need, his closeness as an antidote against the crimson speckles of fear neither of us was quite able to shake.

"Reflecting on....Kira?" I ask, the name leaving its familiar vitriol taste in my mouth.

"Amongst other things" L admits. "It feels like a lifetime ago, yet the shadows it cast..."

"...they linger." I finish his sentence. There's a tremor in my voice that I don't even try to hide - I swore never to hide from him anyway. "It's been almost twenty years and I still...I still hear that damned teaspoon falling...."

In less than a blink, L swivels towards me and buries his face against my body, his arms wrapping around me with a sort of childlike desperation. "I still...dream about him looking down on me as I..." his voice cracks and breaks, and I have to keep my heart from doing the same. I hold him close, my fingers tracing soothing patterns over his back and shoulders.

"I know..." I bury my face in his hair. "I can hear you some nights... But we won, L. In the end, you were the light. You still are."

He breaks away, allowing me to slide in the soft plush chair he always keeps as his side, for me, and his hand casually reaching for a green macaron (his favorite) tells me that his inner world has almost shifted back on its rightful axis.

"I never imagined I'd be grateful to Light, you know," he mutters, amused at the way my eyes have surely narrowed on instinct. "Of course, not for the horrors, but..." he trails off.

"But it brought us together." As always, it falls on me to form the words to the thoughts he cannot express. "Which means we won twice, eh?"

He smiles again. "Remind me to never place you in undercover work," he snickers. "Unless you'd actually be supposed to impersonate someone Canadian, that is," he continues apologizingly, making me laugh as I steal one of his cookies in mock revenge.

......And in this brief moment in the grand scheme of things, all is well.

Life. Laughter. Love. All so many beautiful L - words.

#l lawliet #death note #l death note #death note imagination #just weird overactive imagination #death note l #death note oc #maevearcher #ngl i love him to death #MaeLiet

[mikhailwrites]

Waiting for Connection 11 / Ghost x Soap NerdAU

Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...

I've ran out of pre-written stuff and need to write some more to connect things I already have, also it's Serpent's Coil's turn to occupy my time so I'll be taking a brief break from Waiting for Connection.

Previous chapter | AO3

Soap leaves the window open, the gushes of fresh air soothe him. But it’s November and this is Manchester. It’s cold as hell that freezed over. Soap takes a lungful while enjoying the warmth of the blanket. The smell of rain and cold mixes with something else. Earthy musk that makes him think of home. Not Glasgow; his childhood home. John buries his head in the blanket. The smell gets stronger.

Soap’s eyes close and he falls asleep soon after.

Simon stays awake till the early hours of the morning. The quilt is not very warm, luckily, Ghost had always run hot. And there’s also Stripey, curled up on Simon’s chest and providing extra warmth. The reason Simon is awake and staring at the ceiling is the man in his living room. Shortly after Simon’s discharge, he found living with such a degree of privacy hard. Sleep was difficult for a few months before his brain switched. It’s the exact opposite now. Falling asleep while someone else is in the flat makes him a little antsy.

Simon tries to calm down. Soap has been invited, and he is welcome to stay. Ghost is safe. He turns on his side, facing the half-open window. The cool breeze plays with the curtains. He watches the fabric dance long enough to feel his eyelids grow heavy and slowly close.

The morning comes with its blue-grey bleakness. Ghost slept only a few hours, and since the state of perpetual sleep deprivation, too, is long behind him, he feels like shit.

“Christ it’s freezing in here,” Simon exclaims the moment he sets foot outside the bedroom. Soap is still tucked in, the man pretty much created a den out of Ghost’s blanket. Simon can’t honestly tell head or tail.

He crosses the room, closing the window and turning back to Soap. “Rise and shine, soldier!” Ghost raises his voice to its old commanding tone and level.

The reaction is instant, just as he expected. Soap’s head emerges from the warm cocoon he’s made for himself. He’s all sleepy, mohawk sticking in all directions. He looks like a damn puppy. “Ah... guid mornin'... or... jist mornin', really. Whit's the time?”

Simon frowns as he tries to decipher John’s accent. “It’s oh-six-fifteen,” Ghost says as he goes to the kitchenette, putting the kettle on.

“Too early,” Soap moans, but he does get up. John yelps as his feet touch the freezing-cold floor.

“Should’ve closed the window,” Simon notes, not even concealing his amusement.

John’s gaze lingers on Simon’s face for a second too long, yet he doesn’t ask why the other man looks so haggard. Simon appreciates the sentiment. He takes out a box of cereals, two bowls, milk and spoons and places everything on the table.

“Thank you,” John smiles, still half asleep.

“Not a morning person, John?” he asks casually as he brews the tea and brings both cups to the table.

Soap sighs, running a hand through his messy mohawk. Styled, it looks good, but Ghost quickly decides he likes it more all dishevelled. “Not exactly.”

“You sure the military was the right choice for you?” Ghost smirks.

“I have my doubts,” Soap nods, digging into his cereals. “They keep telling me I’ll get used to it, but at this point, I don’t think it’s happening.”

“Some get used to it, some don’t, not that anyone really cares either way,” Simon shrugs.

“Aye,” John agrees, sipping on his tea and grimacing as he shakes his head. “Tea? Never could understand the British obsession with tea.”

“A good cuppa makes everything better,” Simon says like a memorised mantra.

“Now that is a load of crap,” John snorts, “don’t tell me ye actually believe it.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Either way, you don’t have much of a choice, unless you’d like to criticise my hospitality, that is.”

“British bastard,” Soap mutters quietly.

Simon raises an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“I said I’m very grateful,” John smiles in an exceptionally sweet manner.

“Of course you are,” Simon regards him with a knowing smile before checking the time. “We should get going.”

As soon as he says it, John’s smile falters. Simon’s itching to ask, but reins it in. If Soap wanted to tell him, he would.

They get to the station in time, of course, Ghost wouldn’t let John miss his train, even if man himself doesn’t seem to care much about it.

“It was real nice seeing you in person, Simon; maybe we could do this again sometime?” John says, looking up hopefully.

“I’d like that,” Ghost nods. It was nice. Real nice. Talking to someone like that, and in person. He feels slightly sorry that John has to go so soon.

John turns around to check the departures as something in the broadcast catches his attention. “Well, that’s my ride.”

“Safe travels, Johnny,” Ghost says and freezes. Soap pauses as well, looking at Ghost with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Ghost has no idea where the nickname came from. “Sorry.”

“No… no, it’s fine,” John smiles, even though he has no idea why it’s fine. He never liked that nickname; it always felt a tad too childish. Well, it doesn’t from Simon. “See you around, Si,” Soap smiles, waves and trots to his train before Simon even realises he’s just been given a nickname of his own. It’s only fair he supposes as he turns around and leaves the train station.

#Folks if you like the story I'd love to hear from you either here on AO3 don't be shy! #call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #ghoap #ghost mw2 #soap mw2

[starlightkun]

love bites ❧ teaser [sungchan]

❧ teaser word count: 746 | full fic: 25.5k ❧ warnings: cursing, talking about like werewolf biting/marking and scenting and stuff, this is a werewolf fic either you’re into this stuff or you’re not lol ❧ genre: fluff, so incredibly fluffy and sweet it should’ve been a warning honestly, established relationship, modern magical creatures au, college au, werewolf sungchan, human reader, ft. siren shotaro, werewolf jeno & various magical neos, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to changer ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to changer! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read changer first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from changer to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: so this is technically the spiritual threequel (fourqual?) to my werewolf jeno fics (pupsick + abh) but you still don’t have to read those to understand this one at all! this is absolutely meant to be read by itself (after changer, ofc) ❧ estimated release: saturday, november 18, 2023 2:00 p.m. eastern time

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“So what were you so invested in on your phone?” Shotaro asked, cracking open a seaweed-infused sparkling tea drink popular with younger sirens. “You usually love Real Sirens.”

You popped the tab on your soda, taking a sip before answering. “I was doing some research, on what we were talking about earlier—”

“I thought you said there wasn’t a lot of research on half-werewolves.”

“Not a lot of scholarly research. But I found some people posting online about their own experiences either as half-werewolves themselves, or dating half-werewolves. About the scenting.” You explained, pausing to take a bite of your food. “And it seems like the general consensus is that most likely because their sense of smell isn’t as great as full werewolves, but they still can smell that kind of stuff, unlike humans, half-werewolves get a little more… intense with scenting behaviors.”

“Gross.”

“I meant the clothes and the hugging, dude.” You soft-balled a kick at his shin under the table. “Not my fault you’re immediately gross.”

“Does it ever stop?”

You grimaced, “Well…”

“No?” He asked with wide eyes, presumably having the rest of his recently renewed lease flashing before them.

“Again, there aren’t a lot of half-werewolves. Or at least ones talking about it. But there is one half-werewolf/human couple I found who says that the scenting took better, and the behaviors therefore decreased after…” You trailed off, messing with the strings of Sungchan’s hoodie.

“After…?”

“After they followed through with the werewolf mating bite.”

The siren stared at you blankly. “Oh.”

“They’re the only ones I could find online who has done that, so who knows if that’s a guaranteed result, not to mention that at that point they were also human married, and had been together for over five years, so there was definitely just a lot of security in their relationship not to mention they’d been living together for years so they were going to smell like each other anyway—”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Shotaro stopped your defensive rambles gently. “You two don’t need to do that for me. Just wear his clothes and be annoying, it’s fine.”

You stabbed your fork into a bun. “Yeah, I know that.”

“That was some weird stressing of your words there, Y/N. Anything you want to share?”

You let out a long, steady breath, your lips just a centimeter away from being pressed together. Your mind was swirling with the memory of Sungchan’s last shift. Of him asking you to take his bite. He hadn’t mentioned it again since, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially because he hadn’t brought it up again since. And seeing his dad’s last night…

“Sungchan mentioned it once, but I don’t know how serious he was being, and he hasn’t brought it up again,” you admitted before tearing into the bun you’d just assaulted. It was filled with delightfully seasoned veggies wrapped in smooth, pillowy dough. God, these really were some of the best steamed buns you’d ever had.

Shotaro practically did a spit take with his tea, dribbling the sip he’d just taken back into the bottle. “He what? When?”

“Shotaro—”

“No, he brought up essentially werewolf engagement to you— What? While you two were playing video games or something? And neither of you mentioned this to me?”

“It wasn’t like that but... sure. I guess.”

“No, no, what was the context? Post-nut confessions or something?”

“God! Why are you like this?” You groaned, dragging a hand over your face in exasperation. “No, he let me be with him for his last shift, it was when he was coming out of it. He wasn’t all there, he was tired, he had all the extra adrenaline and everything else going through his body still.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “So I was right.”

You gave him an unamused look. “Think more like a boxer with a concussion.”

“And you haven’t brought it up with him since?”

“I was just focused on making sure he was okay. And now, I don’t know, he hasn’t mentioned it again. Maybe he wasn’t serious about it?”

“If he was... would you say yes? To be werewolf married?” The siren waggled his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Or half-werewolf married? Half-werewolf half-married?”

“They really need to make like even a single MCS class mandatory in the Gen Ed requirements, because what the hell are you saying to me right now?”

“You know what I mean. Would you say yes?”

⤷ blog masterlist  ⤷ anthology masterlist

#jungsung #jung sungchan #sungchan x reader #riize #riize x reader #nct #nct x reader #sungchan imagine #riize imagine #nct imagine #sungchan fluff #riize fluff #nct fluff #i: sungchan #f: love bites #lb: teaser #au: strawberry sunday #text #mine #writing #bias tag

[shou-jpeg]

-Back on the Beat-

Part 4. 02

November 11th, 3:25pm

"...and Nat is really into Sun, but he doesn't notice no matter how obvious she is, he's only got eyes for Mouse. But like I told you before, Mouse is into Mon - I've got a bet going with Ohm for when they're going to start dating. Mon is super pretty though, Mouse has good taste. She reminds me of you a lot, phi..."

Kim is sitting across from Chay, sipping on a winter melon tea with lychee popping pearls. Chay had raised an eyebrow at him when he’d asked for it extra sweet. It’s not half bad.

Chay has spent the half an hour that they’ve been here alternating between asking Kim about the music he's been working on, gossiping about his friends and throwing Kim flirty comments. 

That last one he’s less sure about. He hopes he’s reading things right. 

If he wasn’t so uncertain about his place in Chay’s regard these days, he would be less hesitant to believe that Chay was deliberately flirting with him.

He takes another sip of his tea, nonetheless quietly basking in Chay’s undivided attention.

Kim likes this a lot. 

He had gone to family dinner the other night. He’d skipped the week before, but Khun had only made one comment about it before asking him what he'd been up to. Kinn had even joined in, seemingly genuinely interested. Kim is surprised at how much he’s enjoying the family time, even with his pa there, looming over them. Chay hadn’t asked him to hang out again after, but they’d chatted for a little bit and planned another session in Kim’s studio for tomorrow. So today’s invite had come as a pleasant surprise. 

Even if Chay decides that he wants to just be friends after all, Kim thinks he would be happy being just friends with Chay, loving him from a distance and getting to just spend time with him on the regular.

It might hurt a lot, seeing Chay eventually move on but…

Kim frowns.

He likes to think he would be respectful of Chay dating someone else, but if he’s being truthful, he doesn’t know if he could be. He's too selfish, and he’s not sure he can let Chay go again now. 

He stares into his tea. 

Kim thinks he might be a little toxic...

...

Oh well. There are worse things about Kim than a little toxicity, he thinks. Chay knows that by now.

Kim will just have to take things as they come and if one of those things is Chay dating someone else, he will do his best to be okay with it. It's something he can work on.

“Do you like your tea, p’Kim?” Chay’s voice cuts through Kim’s internal musings. He’s looking at Kim oddly, like maybe Kim isn't been as subtle about his distraction as he thought he was being.

“Mm” Kim replies, “it’s good.”

“I can’t believe this is your first time having boba tea. Though you didn’t get tapioca pearls or milk, so I don’t know if it really counts.” 

“I’ll try the pearls next time.” Kim puts out hopefully. Chay grins back at him. 

“Boba is always best with the people you like. Join me again soon, phi.” Chay is looking at him intently. Kim bites the inside of his lip.

“Hmm. Yeah” He smiles gently back. Fuck, Kim feels a little bit like he’s drowning. Chay is not good for his heart. 

If Chay isn’t deliberately flirting, and this is just what it’s like being Chay’s friend, Kim thinks he might not survive being just friends after all. He isn't sure how Chay's current friends survive.

They finish their drinks quickly, Chay having a few errands he needs to run before he goes back to the compound for some movie night he has planned with Khun.

Just as Kim reaches to grab his phone from the table, the screen lights up with a text notification. 

No one texts Kim except for Chay. 

Kim realises too late exactly what his background is, and Chay’s quiet squeak of surprise confirms that it’s far too late to swipe his phone off the table before he sees it.

Fuck. 

“Oh” Chay squeaks. Kim looks up at him, face hot. Chay’s face is red as he stares down at Kim's phone. He shouldn’t have set thus photo as his wallpaper. Kim is such an idiot. “You saved that picture?” Chay asks. 

“Uh…” Kim looks down at his phone, turning the screen off. What should he even say here? “Sorry. I know you didn’t mean to send it to me, but I’d saved it before you deleted the message and I...” what? Set a photo you clearly didn’t mean to send as my phone wallpaper?

He half expects Chay to call him a creep or a weirdo, but when Kim looks back up, Chay is smiling shyly at him, face still a little pink. “I can delete it” he offers. 

“Don’t” Chay replies immediately. “It’s nice.” 

Oh. 

Kim smiles “Okay.”

“We should get going, I have to throw an outfit together for p’Khun’s movie night. I haven’t even begun to think about it, he’s going to have a go at me if I don’t make it elaborate enough”

Kim chuckles fondly. Khun will probably have a go at Chay no matter what he wears. His standards are incredibly high. 

He’s still smiling when he gets back to his penthouse an hour later.

He turns on his phone’s screen, staring at Chay’s sunny smile. His chest feels light, like maybe they’re heading somewhere after all and he’s catching a sense of hope. 

God he hopes he’s right. 

A new message comes through, this time from Chay. 

Kim grins, he thinks he's finally beginning to understand Chay a little more.

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First

Playlist

#kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #porchay pachara #kinnporsche #i want you bach au #i want you bach au part 4 #kpdoodles #Kim == > accidentally charm Porchay #Porchay ==> call Kim sweet in the most round about way you can #(he is claling Kim sweet bc of the very sweet tea he had on their “date”) #Kim might be starting to get it #this update fought me tooth and nail I'm sorry if its not very good

[givemea-dam-break]

hi my love, can you do anthony lockwood x reader

possibly with prompt 17 or 24 from the angst list?!? ive been craving some lockwood angst recently and i love your fics so who else could i ask to fulfill my needs

a/n: yes yes yes i have been dying for angst it’s my favourite thing to write. i'm so glad you like my fics! feeling honoured rn. this is shorter than some of my other fics, but i hope you like it!

warnings: angst, language prompts: "You're not my friend anymore, remember?" and "You left, you left, and now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened." gn reader

Your day couldn't have gone worse.

Originally, your plans for your first day off in weeks had been to spend your time in the library nearby, listening to the rain on the tall windows as you read in your favourite seat before stopping off to grab a takeaway on your way home.

Of course, things can never go to plan in a world haunted by ghosts.

To preface, the Visitors aren't the problem, not today at least.

You've reached a particularly good chapter of your book when things start to go wrong. You're completely content just reading away, sipping on some tea in your travel mug, when a shadow looms over the pages, making it hard to read.

Looking up, slightly irritated, you say, "Hey, do you mind moving, please?"

Then you see the face, and the irritation melts into something more: fury.

Anthony Lockwood stands before you, soaked with rain and dripping all over the floor. His hair, usually neatly brushed, looks like a wet rat, and his cheeks are flushed from the November chill. From the way he smiles, they remind you a little bit of apples. You like apples considerably more than you like him.

"What do you want?" you ask.

Lockwood points at the free chair next to you. "Can I sit?"

"Absolutely not."

"Right." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat. "Can we talk?"

"Also, no," you say, returning your attention to the book. "Goodbye."

A sigh. "(name), please, it's important."

"Important enough to bug me on my only day off? No, I don't think so."

You hope for a moment that he'll turn and walk away, but this is Anthony bloody Lockwood, and when does he ever listen to you? He moves, sinking into the seat beside you, and crossing his legs. You make a point of ignoring him, continuing to read the last paragraph you were on.

"We need your help."

No response. You keep on reading.

"(name), please. It's a big case, and we could really use your Talent."

Again, you ignore him, silently mouthing the words as you read them. Your focus on him strays, and for a minute it's as if he's no longer there, but the scent of bitter tea and citrusy shampoo lingers, taunting you.

Swiftly, you shut your book and stand, grabbing your bag. The action seems to shock Lockwood, and his daze gives you enough time to slip the book back into its slot on the shelves and storm out of the library.

Alas, Lockwood has long legs and catches up momentarily.

"I don't want to talk to you," you grumble, pulling your hood over your hair as you step out into the rain.

"I know, and that's my fault, but, please, listen this once. We -"

"Need my help. Yeah, I got that." Squeezing through a crowd of kids heading into the library, you continue, "But, thing is, I'm not an agent anymore. And, even if I was, you're not my friend anymore, remember? You gave up that right months ago. I wouldn't help you even if my life depended on it."

That stops him short. You keep on walking, arms crossed tightly over your chest.

"You're not an agent anymore?" he asks, catching up once more.

You scoff. "Haven't been since that last case we went on, and I don't plan on becoming one again."

Judging from his expression, he hasn't taken the news lightly. He almost looks betrayed, and that makes you want to strangle him. He's got no right.

"Why not?"

"Because," you say, stopping at the side of the pavement, out of the way of other people, "you left. You left me there, Lockwood. And now you have the gall to come back like nothing happened! You don't just do that."

His frowns. "I didn't leave you."

You want to scream at him, to pull your hair out. It feels like you're about to explode from the rage you're feeling.

"Yes, you left. I was left in that goddamn maze of a mansion by myself while you and George, what? Went to go have some celebratory doughnuts? Not all of the sources were secured, Lockwood. I almost died trying to get out of there."

"I didn't -" His face blanches, and he looks like he's going to be sick. "We thought we'd secured them all."

"Well, you didn't. Want to know why I didn't go back to Portland Row for a week before getting my stuff? I was in the hospital recovering from ghost touch. Took my a month to regain full use of my right arm, you know. I almost lost my arm, in fact. But you didn't ask, you just stood and watched as I packed my stuff."

That makes him angry. "What was I meant to do? There was no stopping you."

"I wanted you to try," you say, and your voice wavers. His expression softens. "If you'd tried, I might've stayed. I might've forgiven you. But you just watched. You never asked me where I was for that week. No, you were busy revelling in your success and hiring other agents."

"We needed another agent, anyways."

"You should've checked on the one you had!" Your breathing is heavy, and your head hurts from the myriad of emotions swirling around. "I'm not - I'm not doing this right now. Today was meant to be a good day. Goodbye, Lockwood. Don't come see me again."

You start to walk away, but his hand clasps around your wrist. Scowling, you tug it from his grip, looking at him incredulously.

"I'm sorry, (name)," he says. In his defence, he's being genuine, but that doesn't mean that you're having any of it. "I am. About all of it. Please, can we talk it out?"

Thank god for the rain, because it hides the tears in your eyes. "No. I - I'm going home, and you're going to leave me alone. I don't want to see you again."

Lockwood's jaw goes slack. "Please, I'm sorry. I can't lose you."

"The minute you left me alone on that case, you lost me," you say. "I don't care how sorry you are. It does nothing. It doesn't stop me from seeing the moment I almost died every night when I sleep. It doesn't change the fact that I don't trust you anymore."

"(name) -"

"I pray that your new agent, Lucy, 'the Superstar' - that's what you called her on live TV, right? - I pray she doesn't have the same fate. I hope things work out well for you, Lockwood, truly, but that doesn't mean we'll ever be friends again. Now, I'm going home."

"Please don't go." His voice is a little shaky. It's the most emotion you've seen from him other than that fake smile he gives to the press. "Please, I'll do better."

You shake your head. Then, wordlessly, you turn and make your silent, miserable trek home.

#lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #george karim #lucy carlyle #fanfiction #x reader #givemea-dam-break

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 6: November I

{{ Chapter 5: October I | Chapter 7: December I }} Chapter Directory

i need levi so bad kdsjfksdj

if you're interested in getting tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, strangers to lovers, explicit descriptions of grief, comments from an emotionally abusive parent figure, mentions of death, reader being briefly depressed ✧ word count ➼ ~4.4k

Class was canceled.

While it was annoying for you to have to walk back home after freshly arriving on campus only to have to go back again in two hours, you were secretly grateful. You had work to catch up on.

Not wanting to deal with the more crowded study spots on campus, you found your way over to the cafe that you conveniently lived by. It made it so you could stop at home if you needed anything—plus you liked the drinks they had, so it was a win-win scenario. 

You make eye contact with Levi immediately upon entering the cafe. He was frowning, but for once, it didn't seem to be obviously directed at you. Whatever hostility that had been present since the first day you've met him seems to have faded, although you weren't sure if it was because you got used to it or if it was because you both lacked the energy to continue hating each other. Either way, something had changed.

You took a seat at the bar by him. Before you could pull out your laptop and get settled in, he slid a mug of your go-to Matcha tea latte over to you.

"Thanks," you muttered as you glanced up at him and passed him your card.

He didn't take it, choosing to wave his hand to get you to put it away. 

You raised an eyebrow at him for giving you a free drink, but happily put your card away. You weren't sure what was going on with him, but you weren't going to complain over not having to pay. It's not like you had a steady source of income.

You took a sip of your Matcha, with the subtle frown on your face dissipating upon tasting the warm liquid. Levi had made it just the way you liked it—with coconut milk and a shot of espresso. A small smile appeared on your face as you took another sip. At least class getting canceled meant you could have your comfort drink earlier in the day, which brought your mood up significantly.

Levi glanced over at you as you happily sipped on the drink he made you. 

You weren't supposed to be here.

Given the fact that it was now nearly three months into the semester, Levi had your schedule memorized. You came in the afternoons most days, with you dropping by an hour or two earlier on Fridays due to only having morning classes. 

"You skipping class already?"

The frown returned to your face.

"What do you mean 'already'?" you asked with a hint of defensiveness in your voice. "It's already November, we're hitting the latter half of the semester."

Levi let out a small tut at your response, annoyed at how sassy you decided to be right off the bat.

"Whatever," he mumbled, returning his attention to managing his station.

"'Whatever', my ass," you retorted, legitimately believing that his question was a backhanded comment about you being irresponsible.

You tapped your finger on the counter for a while. You didn't have to answer him or explain why you were here. 

"Class got canceled," you finally spoke, finding yourself explaining it to him anyway. "Something about the professor needing to take their kid to the doctor."

You weren't sure what you were expecting from Levi, but you found yourself frustrated when he just glanced at you without really reacting one way or another. This just further fed into your belief that he was asking as a passive aggressive method to insult you.

Before your scowl could fully settle onto your face, you heard a familiar voice towards the back end of the café. 

One of your club members—Sasha, the one that decided to eat all of your pastries at your very first meeting—was happily chatting it up with Nicolo at his counter.

"You know her?" Levi asked while shooting you an accusatory look, as if you were to blame for her presence. "She's been quite annoying recently, but she's been buying nearly all of Nicolo's pastries, so at least he's in a better mood than usual."

"At the cost of your own?" you pondered, shooting a sly grin over at Levi, which only widened upon him grunting in disapproval. You chuckled to yourself as you saw him get increasingly agitated. 

"She's one of the freshmen that's been at the Honors Society," you said with a wave of your hand. "She's always eating up the pastries at the general meetings, so I'm not surprised that she found her way here."

You had fully expected Levi to either ignore your explanation or do another tut of unamusement, disapproval, or indifference.

Instead, he decided to ask you a question.

"What's your little club do again?"

You gasped dramatically, holding your hand over your mouth.

"The grumpy and aloof roommate that's interested in my extracurriculars?!" you said in feign astonishment, although a part of you was genuinely surprised. "Who are you and what have you done with Mr. Ackerman?"

Levi's expression was simply that of annoyance when you began your dramatic gesture, but it turned into a full scowl once you addressed him by his surname only.

"Mr. Ackerman?" he asked with a hint of disgust. "What the fuck?"

You shrugged and responded in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Wasn't aware that we were on a first name basis with how much you tend to ignore me at home."

"Cut that shit out," he scolded. 

He wasn't sure why the gesture weirded him out. It made him feel uncomfortable and while it wasn't in his interests to be on a 'first name basis' with you, he'd prefer it to being called 'Mr. Ackerman'. 

"Just Levi's fine," he grumbled.

"Well fine, 'just Levi'," you responded, placing emphasis on his name as if you were mocking him, "but only when you stop treating me like I don't exist when we're at home."

Levi grunted in disapproval again.

"Fine. As long as you quit being a little shit every other day."

"Is every 2-3 days fine?" you asked, trying your best to hold down the smug expression that was threatening to arise on your face. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from chuckling when you saw Levi's scowl at your question.

"You're insufferable."

You stuck out your tongue at him, prompting him to roll his eyes and walk away from you, waving you off.

"Consider it a deal, 'just Levi'," you responded.

He glanced at you over his shoulder, shooting you an annoyed glare, but otherwise didn't respond.

~~~~~

It was getting late into the night. 

Of course, Levi was still awake. His eyes were burning after staring intensely at his laptop screen for the past four hours. 

He groaned to himself as he forced himself to get out of his chair, grabbing his mug of tea that was now long empty. 

He stepped into the hallway, immediately noting that something was off when he saw that all the lights were off. He hadn't heard you come home and he saw that your bedroom door was wide open with your lights off. Upon walking past it, he was able to see that you weren't there. You weren't in the kitchen or living room either.

You weren't home.

Levi found himself more curious than he was concerned. It was already 1am and although you did find yourself at parties on the weekends, it was rare for you to still be out this late into the night when you had classes in the morning. 

He placed his mug into the sink, giving it a quick wash before placing it onto the drying rack. After drying off his hands, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache build up in the center of his forehead.

Some nights were better than others.

Insomnia was already difficult to deal with, but it was made much worse when he had external stressors—and staring at his laptop screen for hours to write up some paper he couldn't care for and had no motivation to do didn't help.

Levi sighed and glanced out the window, wondering if he should go on a drive. It was the only thing he found himself able to do to relax when stressed. It had become a habit and was usually enough to reset his mood enough for him to get back to whatever it was that was causing him stress.

However, upon seeing raindrops gently begin to cloud the windows, he ultimately decided against it. 

He wasn't going to get any work done at this rate. He didn't have the attention span to work and he couldn't sleep either.

As he ran through his options in his head, he felt his phone buzz.

He knew it was you. No one else would really text him this late. He sighed as he brought his phone up to his face to see what you wanted that warranted a text message at 1 in the morning.

> [Matcha Girl (1:23am)]: you up? > [Matcha Girl (1:30am)]: don't ignore me, i can see ur read receipt >:( > [Levi (1:32am)]: What do you want? > [Matcha Girl (1:34am)]: i'm at the library and the buses are down. can u come pick me up? > [Levi (1:35am)]: Sounds like your own problem to deal with. > [Matcha Girl (1:37am)]: :( > [Matcha Girl (1:40am)]: i dont want to walk its about to rain :( > [Levi (1:41am)]: You're so annoying. > [Levi (1:43am)]: Which library are you at

~~~~~

Of course, on the one day I decide to stay up late working, the buses are down and it's raining.

You leaned your head back against the plastic wall of the bus stop shelter you found yourself sitting under. You were sitting and waiting for Levi, having texted him to come pick you up after the app for your bus line rudely decided to not alert you that the buses were down.

You didn't pull these late-nighters often, but you had an exam coming up within the next week that you had to cram for. You just lost track of time.

You quietly groaned to yourself once you realized that you would have been kind of fucked if Levi didn't agree to come out in the middle of the night to come pick you up. 

You texted him specifically because you knew he wouldn't be asleep, but you also couldn't deny that there was an implicit sense of trust now.

Whether you trusted him to actually do anything for you was still up in the air, but you at least trusted him enough to not leave you stranded in the middle of the rain—which was already more than your previous roommate (your ex-boyfriend) was willing to do.

You couldn't quite figure out Levi Ackerman. He made it abundantly clear that he hated you when you first moved in—which you happily reciprocated—but he had been acting differently ever since the night of the Rumbling. 

You didn't sense as much hostility from him anymore. He actually made eye contact with you at home and would acknowledge you, even if that was just in the form of muttering the occasional "thanks" when you passed him something from the kitchen. Even the "annoying undergrad" comments had faded.

The only thing you could think of was that it was due to the deal you had jokingly made in the café the other day. With the way he glared at you as he walked away, you had fully settled with the possibility that it was just a one-sided joke and that none of the words exchanged in that interaction held any meaning—but his change in behavior was blatant and glaringly obvious. 

You sighed to yourself as you tapped your feet on the ground, which was already coated with rainwater. Your hood was up to protect your face from the rain that was rapidly coming down. The bus stop shelter gave you a dry place to wait, but you still had to sprint over from the library.

Your eyes darted up as soon as you heard a car pull up. You recognized it as Levi's.  Throwing your backpack over your shoulder, you walked up to the car, looking towards the ground to avoid getting assaulted by the heavily falling rainwater. 

You glanced inside as you opened the door, holding your hand over your eyes to keep the rain out. You were met with Levi's impatient gaze as he gestured at you to hurry up and get inside.

"Try not to get the seat wet."

"Thanks," you mumbled as you climbed in, carefully setting your backpack down onto the floor in front of the seat and clicking the seatbelt into its buckle.

You kept your hood up as Levi shifted gears and began to drive. You had your hands in your pockets and you were looking awkwardly out the window as you tapped your foot on the ground.

"You're such a pain in the ass," Levi finally spoke, scolding you. "How the hell did you just happen to forget that the buses were down?"

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

"Forget?" you asked, finally looking over at him. "Are they usually down this late?"

"No, but they've been down all day." 

Now that you thought about it, you really haven't seen a single bus all day. You normally just walked around campus, so the fact that the entire bus system was down was completely missed by you. 

"What the hell were you even doing?"

You sighed and spoke quietly.

"I have an exam coming up next week that I haven't had the time to study for," you mumbled.

You heard Levi scoff, but he didn't provide further commentary. 

Levi glanced down at you. He didn't have much empathy for you in this situation. He didn't think you were really busy enough otherwise to not have been studying or doing your coursework as you were supposed to—and he was right: you didn't.

You've technically had plenty of time to keep up with everything, but you realized that your ability to focus was nowhere to be found. It started after the Rumbling. Every time you sat down to do anything that required mental strain, your thoughts kept on jumping around from seeing Zack at the party, Hange asking about your parents, all the way out to reliving the experience of your world falling apart when you were informed of your parents' death. 

It was true that you had more than enough time to prepare, but last month had dug up memories that felt impossible to shove back down. As a result, you found yourself rapidly falling behind in coursework, as if you were swimming in a current that was moving against you, while having the weight that was known as grief strapped onto you, threatening to pull you under the first chance it could.

~~~~~

"How did you get a bad grade on an exam like this?"

Your grip on your phone tightened as you tried to ignore the amount of scrutiny that was present in your aunt's voice. 

That test you had been studying for didn't go well. You showed up late to the exam and were one of the last students to finish. You weren't surprised, but were still devastated nonetheless when you got your grade back. 

The last thing you wanted to do was to tell your aunt about it, but you had let it slip.

Your aunt was not a pleasant person. She took you in senior year of high school after your parents died. Growing up, she always thought you were meek, constantly pestering you with comments regarding needing to live up to others' expectations better. You never had a good relationship with her, but she was your only family left. You didn't have anyone else.

"I've...just been busy and it kinda slipped my mind," you said quietly.

"'Slipped your mind'?" she responded, barely letting you finish your sentence. "Setting up an annual doctor's appointment is something that would 'slip your mind', not an exam for a degree that you're paying thousands of dollars for—especially for a degree like yours."

"Degree like mine?"

You knew what she was getting at.

"Yeah, an English degree, of all things. Why couldn't you stick with pre-med?"

The rational part of you knew that what your aunt was spewing was bullshit. There was nothing wrong, deficient, or less about getting an English degree over going through a pre-med track. You were well aware of that when you switched majors, despite your aunt being fixated on the money aspect of a traditional STEM degree. 

"Well, actually-"

You began to talk to try to educate or debate with your aunt about how your degree was just as valid as a "traditional" STEM degree, but she didn't let you finish your sentence.

"Your mother didn't die for this, you know."

Your mind and body froze.

"Don't make her sacrifice be in vain."

Your grip on your phone tightened to the point that you felt like you were shaking. Your breath was getting caught in your throat and you felt your face heating up, particularly right behind your eyes, while your hands rapidly cooled down, your palms becoming covered in clammy sweat. 

"S-Sacrifice?" you asked, trying your best to keep your composure.

You tensed further as you heard the lock to the front door click. 

You briefly acknowledged Levi as he walked in before averting eye contact. You balled up your other hand into a tight fist under the table. You were desperate to mask in front of both Levi and your aunt, but you were rapidly failing. 

Your parents' death had nothing to do with you. They were traveling overseas when an accident happened. It wasn't your fault in any way, shape, or form, but your aunt loved telling you how disappointed they'd be in your lack of progress. If you were any less emotionally clouded due to your current struggle in processing their deaths, you'd be able to call her out on the bullshit. 

Levi subtly glanced over at you as you continued to speak on the phone with your aunt. He knew something was off the minute he walked in through the door. Your body posture was tense and frigid. Your voice was low and you seemed more hesitant to speak. He could tell that you were upset, and that it was getting worse with each passing second.

While he couldn't hear what was being said on the other end, based on your responses and body language, he could tell that the other person on the line was either berating you or telling you upsetting news. 

After the call finally ended, he glanced over at you and saw you just sitting at the kitchen table with an unreadable expression on your face. Once you finally got up, you walked past him in a rush without making eye contact and went into your room.

Levi glanced at your now-shut bedroom door. He was curious as to what had happened. The only other time he's even seen you remotely this upset was when Hange mentioned your family, but even that paled compared to this. 

Although he was curious, he didn't intrude. It wasn't his business.

About an hour or two later, you came out of your room again. Needing a break from staring at the screen, Levi found himself sitting on the couch, sipping on a cup of tea as he did some light reading.

His eyes darted up as he subtly glanced at you. It was getting well into the evening and you had yet to eat, which was what Levi figured you finally came out of your room for. 

You were still avoiding eye contact with him. Your face was still unreadable and your movements were sluggish, as if you lacked the energy to continue taking steps forward. Whatever had happened a few hours ago had clearly drained you. 

Instead of seeing you grab food, Levi saw that you just filled up a glass of water before heading back into your room. 

His eyes trailed after you as you dragged yourself back into your room. 

Even Levi was starting to get concerned. This wasn't like you. This wasn't the petty, annoying, and stubborn roommate that he found himself stuck with. This wasn't even whatever version of you that he saw you as when interacting with your classmates. While he couldn't care less about the fact that you weren't looking or speaking with him, he did find himself questioning the fact that you hadn't eaten for the entire night. 

He sighed to himself, putting his book down as he heard you open your bedroom door again. He stood up as you walked over to the kitchen sink and placed your drinking glass into it.

"Do you want to go on a drive with me?"

He spoke right as you were about to turn around and head back to your room to continue moping. 

You briefly glanced at him, making eye contact with him for the first time that night.

"This apartment's getting stuffy and I need some air," he said nonchalantly as he grabbed his car keys and a light jacket. "You wanna come with?"

You blinked at him a few times. You were suspicious at the sudden offer, but you didn't have the energy to question it or play 4-D chess to try to read his mind.

"Sure."

~~~~~

It was a quiet night. 

It wasn't that late into the evening, although most students would already be in their dorms for the night, other than the late nighters or those attending evening classes.

You stared blankly out the window as you felt the night breeze slipping in through the slightly rolled-down window. The wind was chilly as it hit your face and it brought you a strange sort of comfort.

There was some low-fi playing in the background as Levi smoothly drove through the small town that surrounded Paradis University. 

You glanced over at him, silently watching as the wind blew through his hair, briefly lifting it up before it landed back down perfectly every time. The sleeves of his jacket were rolled up to expose his forearms. He was leaning back so that his arm was resting at the top of the steering wheel while his other hand gently gripped its bottom.

You knew that Levi commonly went out on late-night drives, so you were surprised that he invited you to come with him on one of them. You figured that this was his much-needed alone time, so it was strange for him to bring you along. 

You took your gaze off him as you looked back out the window. You knew that he saw the exchange with your aunt, even if it was just over the phone. You knew that he saw you rush into your room and then refuse to come back out. 

You sat in silence for a few minutes as he continued to drive towards nowhere in particular.

"It was my aunt," you finally spoke, your voice quiet and barely audible.

You heard him turn down the volume of the music so he could hear you better. You were adamantly looking out the window now, almost as if you were afraid to look at him now that you were speaking.

"On the phone?" 

You nodded.

"She likes to do 'check-ins' now, apparently," you muttered dryly.

You looked down as you twiddled your thumbs in your lap.

"I didn't do too hot on that exam."

You had no idea why you were opening up to your roommate that you swore you hated just a few weeks ago—but you were.

"Says my parents died for nothing," you mumbled, afraid that your voice would break if you spoke any louder.

Levi glanced over at you as you spoke.

He had somewhat deduced that you had either lost your parents or didn't have any just from what was brought up around Halloween. 

It was a shitty comment. He now understood why you were the way you were for the entire afternoon. Given how deeply disturbed you were by even the thought of your parents last month, he could only imagine how much worse this harsh comment from a family member was on you.

The two of you were silent again for a while, with the only noise being the rumbling of the car and the barely audible low-fi still playing in the background.

Finally, Levi parted his mouth to speak.

"It feels lonely, but it doesn't have to be."

"What?" you asked, fully looking over at him in confusion.

"Dead parents. Shitty extended family," he began listing as he glanced over at you again. "It feels lonely, but it doesn't have to be."

You blinked at him a few times, keeping your gaze on him even after his eyes returned to the road.

Has he gone through something similar?

He noticed your prolonged gaze on him.

You saw him slightly adjust his grip on the steering wheel.

"My mom died when I was eight. I was picked up by my uncle," he elaborated. "Shitty bastard." 

He had indeed gone through something similar.

You weren't sure how this made you feel. You did appreciate that he reciprocated the gesture of opening up, although you never held the expectation that he would.

"Ran into another kid that also lost his parents—kinda became family that way," he mentioned, glancing over at you again. "So it doesn't have to be lonely."

You knew what he was getting at. You crossed your arms, running through the list of people you knew in your head. You weren't sure who you would consider as a found family. Sure, you had friends, but you weren't close enough with any of them.

They were at least better than your aunt, who technically was your family.

You looked up through the windshield again as you felt him pull in and park. Your eyebrows scrunched together as you saw that he had pulled into the parking lot of a local 24-hour diner. You looked at him, questioning the detour.

"Come," he said, motioning for you to get out of the car as he turned the engine off. "Let's get you something to eat before you start getting all bratty because you haven't eaten anything all night."

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