#they simply want to lead normal lives in each other's company but everything is so broken and they can't even begin to fix it
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“until Sophie sat him down and broke the news to him that their daughter was out all the time because she had met someone” lol can we have a drabble about this please
"I'd better get a start on dinner." Sophie announced after glancing at her watch. "Will said Charlie and Alex will be joining us tonight." she elaborated to her husband as she put her book down and got up from the armchair.
"They are? Well that'll be nice, having all the kids home for the evening." Benedict remarked with a fond smile as he lounged across the sofa sketching.
"Just the boys - Violet's out tonight." Sophie mentioned.
"Again?" Benedict's attention was raised from his sketchbook as he looked to his wife quizzically. "That girl's hardly ever in these days. I feel I only catch a glimpse of her before she's off out again." he scoffed. "I mean, I get it; she's young and wants to hang out with her friends all the time, that's completely normal at her age. I just feel like we barely see her, you know?"
"Yeah well, it's like you said; it's normal at her age to want to be out all the time." Sophie nodded along, happy to allow her husband to not think any harder on any other reason as to why their daughter might want to be staying out more and more.
"But... is it just me or is it a little bit concerning that she's barely ever home? She just seems to be spending all hours of the day anywhere but here. I try so hard not to be a worrywart and I know she's old enough to live her own life without running everything she does by us, but I'd just like to know when she's coming or going, if she's going to have dinner with us, if she's even bothering to sleep in her own bed." Benedict sighed - unaware of the grimace pulling on his wife's face. "And I'm sure Dette's more than happy to have her staying at hers, I know how much their friendship means to each other, but Dette's also more than welcome to stay with us too. It seems unfair that she has to put Vi up all the time, you know? And honestly as close as they are, after spending 24/7 together, what could they possibly have to chat about? Like surely they might like their own company for awhile."
Sophie bit her lip as she considered what she should do in this situation. She could continue with the easy option she had been going with for the past six weeks of simply letting Benedict be none the wiser about why their daughter was hardly ever home and continuing to go along with his assumption that she was hanging out with her girlfriends non-stop. However with Benedict's growing concerns, Sophie felt it would be only a matter of time before he caught their daughter on one of her flying visits home and expressed his worries to her, which would inevitably lead to Violet having to come clean as to the reason why she was out all the time.
As her mother, Sophie had known almost immediately that Violet had met someone as soon as she came home the morning after Bernadette's 19th. She had spent the rest of the day getting ready to go out that evening and though Sophie never pried about what it was Violet was preparing for, she just knew from her daughter's budding excitement that it was a date with a lot of potential that she was about to embark on. The following day Sophie had then pretended not to see Violet slipping in wearing the same outfit from the night before, and she had continued acting oblivious to the girlish giddiness and glee her daughter exhibited every time before she went out and every time she came home again. Sophie respected her daughter's privacy despite knowing full well Violet had fallen madly in love, though after a week and a half it was her daughter who sought her out to gush about the man she was sure was "the one". She had listened with delight as Violet regaled her with the story of meeting her best friend's brother, Edgar, and how she had known all at once that he was what she had been looking for, before proceeding to explain just how perfect and wonderful Edgar was in every possible way. Of course Sophie was elated for her daughter and looked forward to the day she got to meet Edgar for herself - but Violet did ask her to hold off from telling Benedict about her boyfriend for the time being, knowing he wouldn't be as unbothered by the news as Sophie was.
Sophie had been more than happy to oblige such a request, but now that Benedict was expressing his worries over their daughter's whereabouts, she felt guilty for keeping the truth from him. Violet meant the absolute world to him as their youngest and only girl and Sophie hated the thought of him enduring any unnecessary concern about their daughter without having the full picture. She knew she had to tell him, knowing it would be for the best and that Violet would understand; she just dreaded his reaction to the news that their daughter was hardly ever home because of a boyfriend she was absolutely besotted with.
"Ben." Sophie sighed and took a seat beside him on the sofa. "It's about time you know the reason why Vi's been out so much these last few weeks."
Immediately from the sound of her tone Benedict sat up straight, dumping his sketchbook on the coffee table and whipping his glasses off as his brows knitted together anxiously.
"What? What is it? Is she okay?" he asked her.
Sophie gave him a sympathetic smile and took his hand in hers. "Ben, I need to assure you that there's nothing to worry about, okay? You do not need to freak out or have too big a reaction to what I'm about to tell you, you got that? Everything's fine, nothing bad's happened, there's no need to be concerned."
Admittedly her preemptive reassurances weren't doing much to settle Benedict's nerves in the slightest as he continued to stare at her with visible mounting worry.
(Meanwhile in the kitchen, William was listening in on the conversation when Charlie and Alex walked through the back door. Before they could open their mouths to greet him, William brought a finger to his lips to indicate to them to be quiet and then motioned them over.
"Mum's telling dad about Edgar." he informed them in a hushed tone; news which immediately captured his brothers' interest and they joined him at the kitchen island to eavesdrop on the unfolding conversation.)
"The reason why Violet's been out so much is because she's met someone." Sophie told him, thus ripping the band aid off. "She's spending pretty much all of her time with him and she's very happy and in love."
Benedict had frozen up completely as he processed the information his wife was providing him with, his eyes remaining fixated on hers as the cogs in his brain took their time in comprehending the news that his daughter had a boyfriend.
("Bet you a galleon he cries." Charlie muttered to his brothers.
"Bet you he loses his absolute shit and goes on a rampage." William grinned excitedly.
"Come on, she's a grown-up. I'm sure he'll take it just fine." Alex said in their dad's defence - at the very least he felt his dad would act unaffected on the surface and keep his real feelings on the matter to himself.
"Nah, this is his ickle princess we're talking about." William snorted. "He's going to suffer an emotional turmoil that'll result in mum waterboarding him a sleeping draught just to calm him down."
"He's not going to be that bad-" Alex attempted to argue, but was interrupted by an unusually high-pitched whine.
The three brothers initially looked out the kitchen window, believing it to be coming from an animal outside, but all they saw was Colin the cat turning his head around curiously from the garden to the house looking just as baffled by the noise as they were. They then side-stepped simultaneously and craned their heads just around the doorway to verify for themselves that the sound being emitted was coming from their dad.)
"Ben." Sophie sighed in response to the noise her husband was making. "Ben, I said there was nothing to worry about. She's an adult, remember? It's normal for her to be dating, to be young and in love; she's happy, Ben. Isn't that all we want for her, for any of our children?"
"I know." Benedict blubbered as tears began shooting down his face. "I know, I know." he nodded in acknowledgement before he choked out another sob.
"Come here." Sophie exhaled wearily and pulled him against her, allowing her middle-aged husband to cry into her chest. "There, there." she stroked his hair, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she comforted him through his ridiculous reaction.
("Cough up then." Charlie grinned at his brothers, who reluctantly handed over a galleon each into his waiting open hand.
"I really thought he'd at least pretend like he was fine with it." Alex said.
"And now we've got to put up with him being like this throughout dinner." William acknowledged.
"Think we're better off leaving mum to it and eating out instead?" Charlie suggested, frowning over as their dad continued sobbing.
"What and miss out on a free meal with free entertainment? Don't be daft." William scoffed.)
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hi!! could you do how the todoroki, deku, and bakugou would react to their s/o sleeping on the couch after an argument? no pressure, ty!
sure sure!!
s/o sleeping after argument headcanons with:
todoroki shoto, midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki
gn!reader :)
todoroki shoto
he had left for work in the morning annoyed from the argument he had with you
part of him wanted to make up with you right there, knowing that his day would only get worse if the two of you were angry at each other
but he was still fuming and he didn’t want to take his anger out on you
he was right, though because he found himself missing the cute texts you’d send him, updating him on your day, it would’ve really given him a boost of energy from the mountain of work he had
Todoroki was tempted to make up with you over text but he decided to apologize in person for whatever it was, he just wanted things to be back to normal
he ended up having to leave work late because of one of his colleagues being absent so todoroki hoped that he could find a chance to apologize before you settled in for the night
arriving at home, he saw that you were just cleaning up the dishes
which meant that you had already eaten
his heart sank a little at that because the two of you usually ate together
so he was just about to speak up when you left for the bathroom, off to do your nightly routine
he sighed and washed up in the other bathroom, changing into his pajamas to wait for you in bed
but you never came
even 10 minutes after he heard the door to the bathroom open, you still didn’t come
wanting to settle this once and for all, he went out to the living room only to find you huddled on the sofa, clutching a thin blanket that was thrown over your body
were you still mad at him? did you not want to sleep with him? he felt a little hurt but still walked over to you
to your sleeping face, he said, “y/n..look I'm sorry for this morning. can you just..come to bed, please?”
he had a feeling you weren’t asleep, even when he received no response
so he decided to lift you up, thinking that he’d get a reaction after that
and he did, you squirmed and tried to get down but he carried you to bed, your thin blanket dragging on the floor
“did you hear what I said?” he asked, looking down at you
“yes,” you muttered into his neck. “I'm sorry too.”
todoroki let out a sigh of relief
good, now we can spend the whole night cuddling
midoriya izuku
the argument was about how midoriya didn’t always have to let bakugou push him around
it never had to lead to a full scale argument but the two of you were just so caught up in your own opinions
you left your apartment with a slam and angrily drove to the gym
for the rest of the day, you were able to release your anger out through training, which you thought was convenient because you could improve on your combat skills too
you hoped that by the end of your session, you could calmly handle the matter with your boyfriend
but when it felt like you were finally calm again, he walked in
bakugou happened to want to train too and seeing him made all your anger come back up, reminding you why you had left the comfort of your home in the first place
you quickly left the vicinity before he could even ask you to sparr together
but walking outside, you saw that it was already dark
that meant you had to head home soon
on the way, you decided to order some takeout, picking your boyfriend’s favorite place
once you reached home, he quietly greeted you but didn’t ask how your day went
his wasn’t the best but looking at the clothes you wore, he figured you went to the gym
you set the food down on the table and the two of you ate in silence
You could feel your boyfriend sneak glances at you, wanting to say something
but instead of making eye contact, you picked at your food, eyes boring holes at it
he offered to clean up and you simply nodded, heading to the bathroom to wash up
after you were done you saw that he was already in bed and you didn’t know whether to join him or not
not wanting it to be awkward, you made yourself comfortable on the couch, surrounded by your comfort pillows and throw blankets
it wasn’t until you were about to fall asleep did you hear your boyfriend creak towards you
“Y/n? why are you here, I was waiting for you.”
You could hear the slight crack in his voice and how he heavily swallowed down his nervousness
sighing, you got up, not wanting to keep this up either
“izu I’m sorry for today. I was just frustrated. Forgive me?”
he eagerly nodded, bringing you into his arms
“I’m sorry too, for yelling.”
you both walked into your shared bedroom and got comfortable under the covers, both falling asleep from the warmth radiating around you
bakugou katsuki
it was another stupid argument that had no reason for the two of you to be ignoring each other
bakugou left without his goodbye kiss from you, resulting him to be even grumpier at work
this “stupid argument” also broke your routine of meeting each other at the park everyday to have lunch together
bakugou was unsure of whether or not he should go there..part of him hoping that you’d be there so he could make up with you but also not wanting to embarrass himself if your usual bench was empty
usually you’d text him that you were there but today u didnt
He figured you were eating lunch at home and so he headed out to the nearest cafe to get his own sandwich
it definitely tasted bland, it wasn’t your homemade bento first of all aaaand he was having it alone 😒 without your company
finally at around 5, bakugou was able to drag himself home
he badly wanted to feel your touch again, have you massage his aching muscles
but when he entered the house, you were nowhere to be seen
he could hear the shower running though so he went by the door, trying to hear you sing in there like you always do
but it was dead silent except for maybe a twist of a bottle cap
he sulked a little, were you still upset over this morning? enough to not make you sing in the shower?
he decided to eat dinner then wash up in the other bathroom
he would’ve waited till you were done showering to eat but he saw that you had already eaten, the dirty dishes piling up in the sink
another thing that made him sulk a little more
after all that, bakugou laid down on your bed, sighing out loud
everything was warm and comfortable, he was just missing you by his side
he decided that once you walked in, he’d embrace you as an apology and the two of you could cuddle to sleep
but half an hour had passed and the shower was no longer running
what were you doing?
picking himself off the sleep-inviting bed, bakugou walked into the living room to find your figure stretched out on the coach
a creased formed in his forehead at how stubborn you could be
rly? the two of you always slept together
neither one could even sleep without the other
rly, this tactic would only be a downfall for you too
you’d only go back at midnight and beg for his warmth
normally, he’d taunt you but he wanted to end this stupid argument as quick as possible so he swiftly picked you up, ignoring your groans and protests of trying to sleep
after flopping you on the bed, bakugou put his hands on his hips and said, “can we just forget about this morning? we both have our regrets so let’s just call it even”
you rolled your eyes but nodded
and like a puppy told that it was going out for a walk, bakugou happily snaked his arms around you and rested his head by yours
a/n: ugh I never know how to end these T-T
bnha masterlist
#todoroki imagine#todoroki headcanons#todoroki scenario#todoroki fluff#todoroki hcs#todoroki x gn!reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki x you#todoroki x y/n#todoroki shoto fluff#todoroki shoto x you#todoroki shoto x reader#todoroki shoto headcanons#todoroki shoto imagine#todoroki shoto scenarios#midoriya hcs#midoriya headcanons#midoriya fluff#midoriya x gn!reader#midoriya x gender neutral reader#midoriya x reader#midoriya x you#midoriya imagine#midoriya scenario#midoriya izuku fluff#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bakugou headcanons#bakugou hcs#bakugou imagine
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to the stars above | z.
featuring. zhongli (genshin impact)
genre. fluff, angst, smut, ancient-liyue!au
word count. 5.4k
marga's notes. aAAAa look look, it's my first commission!! school has kept me really occupied for like the past month but after pulling a few all-nighters, i've finally finished my responsibilities along with this little baby! once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to my bubs @ramannnn for trusting me with this one <33
Nobody knows when the world began, how it came to be and why it continues to be. Even I, whose mind is filled with nothing but wonder for it, have no idea. One thing I am quite sure of... is how mine did.
It all started with him— a man of many titles, different identities yet at the end of the day, all these monikers are the same; it's all him. He adored Liyue more than anything else, knew it like the back of his hand. He went where the winds lead him, stayed where the moon shines upon him, stood where the golden sun kissed his skin. He found serenity in the walks he travels as he goes about his day, the sceneries his eyes take in and the calm sounds the nature resonates for him. And as if it was fate decided upon by the Celestia, it led him to me. Suddenly, my little world that used to be nothing became everything... quickly and all at once.
An exasperated sigh escapes from my lips, frustration and disappointment filling my whole being as I stare at the blank parchment paper I held in my hands. Another day was again wasted with no progress, I thought, mentally beating myself up for not being productive enough. Before I could further drown myself into such pessimistic ideas, I snap out of it and let my eyes cherish the view that lies ahead of me. Though I feel a little guilty for taking Vermeer's place, I can only whisper an apology with little to no sincerity. Because truly, nothing can beat the picturesque landscape of Luhua Pool— the crystal clear waters that would most probably reflect my face like a mirror if I were to ever look at it, the ruins that ignited the spark of curiosity within me, wondering about the pasts it holds and the stillness and feeling of peace it gives me as I sit in this cliff. Feeling somewhat a bit better, I place my things on top of the old bag I bring no matter where I go. There's always a better day for writing, I tell myself as a form of consolation, bringing my slim arms up to begin stretching. I've been sitting on this log for quite a long time now, after all.
"It seems like you are in a bit of a dilemma," a deep voice comments from behind me. Out of surprise, I lightly jump and turn my head towards the stranger. Right at that moment, it felt as if all the air circulating inside my body had been depleted. Captivating was an understatement as to how he appeared before me. With the sunlight striking his face and accenting his unique features further, he stood with his hands behind him, head tilted as he looked at me with interest, all while keeping his dignified posture.
"Oh, hello. I am afraid so, yes," I respond, or rather, mutter under my breath since I was not really used to having sudden encounters with other people, nor am I fond of it. I tend to keep to myself, finding it much more peaceful than having to tend to others' overbearing expectations and demands which is partly the reason why I chose to live in the outskirts, far from the center of Liyue that contrasts my comfortable abode, "I apologize. I failed to realize that somebody other than Vermeer liked to stay here," I told him, arching my eyebrows a little when he let out a breathy chuckle.
"Oh, you have no need for such formal apologies. I do not always go here, at least probably not as often as the man you call Vermeer. I was simply taking a walk and I think I got carried away by Liyue's view and eventually, my feet led me here," he explains, a hint of sheepishness present in his tone, "and I guess I'll have to thank my feet for that."
Because it led me to you, interesting one. For many years, it will remain unspoken, kept by the strange man to himself and unveiled once his heart gives up from the resistance he upholds.
For the following hours of lounging around Luhua Pool, I learned a lot about the stranger— he calls himself "Morax," and like the god of Liyue, he enjoyed history and is extremely knowledgeable about it, aspiring to know and understand everything of the world, he often brews tea, even going as far as inviting me once I am free from any form of work. Just as he shared facts about himself, I did too.
"So, Cheng, you said you have a bit of a dilemma?" he inquires, slightly angling his head towards the direction of the side I'm sitting on. I nod my head up and down, mouth forming into a small pout of disappointment as I remember that today has not been that progressive.
"Yes. I am trying to write a novel, you see. Something that will leave an impact on this world so that even if I may pass, I will still live on the memories of people," I tell him, an ambitious expression present on my face. He hums, eyes going over the terraces that make up the current view we have and the two huge statues standing by the ruins, "Why so?"
I pause for a moment to think of a reply, "I guess I just do not want to let someone alone in this cold world. Wouldn't that be too cruel and sad, to just leave them with nothing?"
If I'm able to write words that will provide comfort to my readers, then maybe... just maybe the world will be less lonely... even for just a little bit. At least, that's what I thought as silence consumed us, the sun setting as if to remind us that finally, another day is nearing its end. Now, what will tomorrow bring?
"Well then, I do hope I will be able to read at least some of your works at least once," he speaks as he stands up, lightly dusting away his clothes, "It certainly has been a pleasure to be your company, Cheng."
As he walks down the slope of the hill, his somewhat broad back facing me, I call out, "Will you be back?"
He stops and turns, a soft smile is plastered on his face as he responds, "Only time will tell."
But time was no friend of mine. At least that's what I have come to realize as many days passed without him returning to this place. Though maybe it's only because it almost felt as if time slowed down and I was only eager to see him again, something I have scolded myself to— what a fragile heart do I have to already seek a stranger's presence? That is what others call love at first sight, a devilish portion of my mind whispered cheekily within me and I gasped in disbelief, "Absolutely not," I lightly slap both of my cheeks, "I'm just too coped up in my own world. I probably need to go see more people."
That thought remains a simple yearning though because once again, I find myself lounging around the same spot in Luhua, a quiet hope ignited within me, fulfilled when I hear the familiar voice he adorns as he speaks, "You're here."
I release a sound that is between a giggle and a breathy chuckle, "And I see your feet had led you here once more?"
"They were curious, or should I say... I was," he explains as he takes a seat beside me, his posture remaining solid despite the uncomfortable position.
"Of what?" I ask.
"Of you," he simply replies, unaware of the sudden yet unsurprising effect it had on my heart that was already beating rapidly with just his mere presence. I try not to be so showy of it though, too embarrassed to even think of how fast I became fond of him.
But it was no wonder. After all, he himself was an interesting one; from the way he carries himself, the way he speaks, and the way he's just him... all and every action hold so much dignity that it just leaves me almost breathless and in awe every single time my eyes finds their way to his figure— and to think that this was just our second meeting? My mother would most probably let out the most shameless giggle as I tell her these thoughts, pushing me and teasing me like a normal person in their teens would. I shake my head to get out of these thoughts, listening to Morax as he tells another wonderful tale, almost making me think that he lived it himself with how he knew it, going over even with the smallest details.
"You know, Morax, you have such a good memory to remember all of those things despite simply hearing about it," I suddenly speak up in the midst of the silence that engulfed us while he tries to think of the next story to tell, "I hope I can stay in them too... in your memories, I mean. I know I am far from being the most interesting person but for some reason, I wish for that."
He pauses, eyes trailing slowly towards me, beyond my knowledge, before he lets out a somber smile. You already are, is another one of him that becomes an afterthought.
I heaved out a sigh before shaking my head again, "Ah! Why do I keep having such lonely thoughts? Forget about that. Please do not mind me, alright? I think I really need to stop being stuck in the mountains."
I pick up my small bag and shuffle inside it, letting out a quiet sound of 'aha!' as a sort of celebration when I successfully got a small book out, "Here."
He blinked his eyes in confusion, wondering what it was I handed to him so I spoke in delight, "You told me you wanted to read at least one of my works so, here. I am warning you though, it is not like the ones that sell best in the bookstores. It might bore you, or weird you out like what others say."
"What others say?"
"They say it's too unrealistic, too impossible... but I believe otherwise. We live in a world where gods and adepti watch over us. What makes my story impossible then?" I ponder, him still being confused.
"What is it about anyway?" He asks, having no idea of what the context my book had.
"It's about an archon who began living as a simple man in Liyue."
Our meetings became more frequent after that and eventually, we got comfortable with even just the presence of each other, having no need for long talks and such, but just peace. Today, like any other day, Morax was just reading the book I gave him, while I was thinking of what my next story would be about. Occasionally, he looks at me with an odd expression that is almost equivalent to astonishment, as if I have done something so great that it made him look at me that way.
"What made you think of this plot?" he asks all of a sudden, not forgetting to put a piece of paper that served as a bookmark on the page where he stopped just in case he accidentally closed it.
I hum, thinking about my answer to his question, "Hmm. Truth to be told, it was just a mere wonder for me. Archons and the adepti, although not entirely immortal, live so much longer than an average human does, watching over us as we go about our daily lives, waiting for sudden wars to break out and then fight the enemies that attack us. Growing up, those were the things that all the people around me told me. So I began to wonder, do they ever get tired? Is it not too taxing to keep on doing that? What if... they just lived with us, among the crowds? Because I think it is too lonely wherever they are. Would it not be better if they were with us, rather than above us, so they could at least have memories to live by?"
Morax does not give a response, or rather, he finds it difficult to find one. Still, it does not stop the affection that spreads within him. He does not say it out loud, but for someone who prefers to be alone, Cheng was full of empathy. And somehow, that did wonders to Morax's heart.
"Now that I think about it, I kind of actually want to address my books to them now," I hum once more, "It would be like a message for them: Do not be too lonely even if we pass. Because of your help, through these stories, we can show you that we lived a good life."
I huff as soon as I finish my sentence, "Although one of those who read it said that was impossible, because according to them, why would archons give up their power to live a life where there is only simplicity?"
Morax let out a sound that made it look as if he got offended himself, "Archons can do that, can they not?"
"I know! That was what I was saying to them. Anyway, I am not forcing them to like what I wrote. It's just a story, after all. It can do no harm," I shrug, beginning to fix my belongings as the sun began to set, "I should go now, Morax. It is still quite a long walk to my home."
"I want to live a good life too," he suddenly tells me, making me halt and turn to him in confusion, "With you. The good life and memories you shall tell in your stories, can I be part of them too?"
The universe does not stop for anyone, nor does time— science will consistently proclaim this fact matter what timeline we shall live in. No matter how much someone begs to the Celestia to grant their wish of controlling, or stopping time, no one will be able to do such things. But somehow, it seems like when it comes to him, everything is possible as I feel my world stop at his words, just like the way it also began when I met him. And as if planets were colliding with each other, I suddenly felt my heart crash upon him and as if out of instinct, I let go of the truth.
"Of course. It would be the greatest thing to have you."
Life was strange in its own way. That is what I have come to realize in this simple life of mine.
Despite the fact that the "me" of the previous year has never even thought about putting my whole being on my sleeve, it is pleasingly odd how right now, I find myself in this kind of situation with the man who swept me right under my feet and claimed my heart as his.
“You're cold," I whisper amidst the silence of the night in my abode, my index tracing the ears of the man who had me sitting right on his lap, the shorter strands of his silky hair tucked behind them. So, so alluring.
He takes hold of my wrist, planting a soft kiss on its side, all while maintaining eye contact as he quietly drawls, "Then I suppose you can keep me warm tonight. Will you?"
As if in a trance, I nod my head, letting him take the lead as he laid me down, back against the soft mattress, him following on top with his arms supporting his build. With arising confidence, I circle my arms around him and pull him down, bringing our lips together, a sigh of relief escaping both of our mouths as if to say, "Finally."
I wonder if he thinks the same way as I do— that this was Celestia in its own way. I felt like I could do anything as long as it was with him. The kiss felt like the power we once suppressed from each other became a supernova that changed our world's course all of a sudden. But despite the tension and heat we both emitted at the moment, there is a warmth that engulfs me the same time he fully wraps his arms around me.
I am here. I will always be here.
No noise disturbs the peace we have created, only the quiet sound of crickets reach our ears but even that fails to distract him from what he's doing. He gently tugs on the sash that keeps my coat tied. Nimble fingers explore the remains of my clothing, loosening all until I am set free from them.
His eyes raked over my body, an expression of awe plastered on his face for so long that it made me somewhat conscious. Because as he unravels his to me, I am enlightened by the fact that my figure is nothing worth comparing to his — not even close. A hint of sweat glints from his skin due to the moonlight, making him look even more ethereal. But who was I to complain?
So instead, I look down, fiddling a little with my fingers as I feel my cheeks heat up. How is it that I only realize now what kind of situation we are currently in? Before I further drown in such shameless thoughts, he lifts my head up by the chin, an amused look on his usually-gentle face, "Are you feeling shy, beloved?"
I meekly nodded, to which he lets out a soft laugh and whispers, "Don't be. You are the epitome of beauty itself. If you don't believe me, allow me to show you nothing but truth tonight, I swear under the moon and all these stars."
He dips down and captures my lips in a kiss once again with more passion, if it was still even possible.
"You are made for me, as I'm made for you," he proclaims as he thrusts inside me after minutes of preparation, soft pants and groans following his statements. I can only whimper in response, pain evident in my tone at first with my hands lightly clawing at his back. I pray to the heavens above that they don't leave awful marks after this.
He halts and utters an apology, thumb caressing the bone of my cheeks while he waits for me to adjust. He scans my face after a few seconds, relief flashing in his eyes when I nod for him to continue.
"I... b..." I try to speak out but the pleasure overwrites any sensical thought that goes through my mind. He slows down a little, looking over my face and smiles, urging me to talk.
"Stay with me, beloved. We still have all night," he tells me, encouraging me to voice what has been on my mind.
"I... I belong to you, always have and always will..." I manage to croak out, voice quite hoarse due to the sounds that I let out previously. Perhaps pleased with what I have proclaimed, he begins going even deeper and at the same moment, I begin falling deeper.
"Yes, yes, you do," he repeats like a mantra, his voice sounding more and more desperate to reach his high. I cry out with him, creating a harmony that even the best bards shall be ashamed.
It was a long night— the longest yet most beautiful night I have ever had in this simple life of mine. And in that moment, as we reach the stars together, I knew right there and then that this man is someone who will be etched in my heart for as long as I live, deep into its roots— for him, it shall beat and it shall love.
You, who are reading this, most probably have had enough of these teeth-rotting praises I kept on writing. But what can I do except to apologize? These words are the only ones that can flow out of my mind and mouth to show how magnificent it was to be loved by him.
Well, nothing significant really changed. He was still the same gentleman I met, if anything, more gentle. Just like in the beginning, he made my heart flutter every chance he gets, no matter how many years have already passed.
We built a dynasty together.
But maybe I should have known that ours were also bound to crumble like the ones that have long existed even way before us.
Days, months and years went on, I realized that he was actually the opposite of me— unlike me who was clearly not parallel with time, he held it right on the palms of his hand. I was not blind, nor was I a fool, I can clearly see how he looks like he has not aged a day, all while I was here, maturing more and more each second that passed by, the amount of signs of me aging increasing significantly.
Morax. Knowledgeable of history as if he lived it himself. Time. All these thoughts eventually congest my mind as realization dawns upon me. He was not merely a man named after the god himself— Morax was him, he was Morax.
"How appalling," I mutter with a hint of sadness and dismay in my tone. I stood in front of the mirror, fingers hovering over my face, wrinkles appearing as I scrunch it. A pair of firm arms snake its way around my lean waist, chin resting on one of my shoulders as he hums his words, "What has got your beautiful mind occupied, my beloved?"
Taking hold of his arms, I turn my body around to face him, a somewhat melancholic smile etched on my face as I look up at his much taller frame, "You are a sight to behold, even to this day." He arches one eyebrow out of amusement and curiosity, wondering why I suddenly started pouring him compliments. After all, my shyness prevents me from consistently doing so. Nonetheless, I continue speaking, "I wish... I could be with you even when everything changes into a whole new world."
I lifted a hand up to cup his cheeks and began rubbing it lovingly, a lone tear finally dropping from my eye as soon as I closed it, "but I cannot, I do not have the ability to do so... I am but a mere mortal, after all."
His eyes widen as he finally discerns my actions and concerns, immediately opening his mouth in hopes of consoling me but I beat him into speaking, "It's alright, Morax. I have been putting the pieces together for a while now. I am in no way angry. I just..." I pause, gulping hard before my lips start to quiver, "... I cannot imagine how lonely it must have been. And now... I think about it and I... I do not want to leave you alone again."
My cries eventually start becoming louder, something that is very new to the both of us, seeing as I have always been composed. Love can change a person into a whole new being. I remember a book I have read once and at the moment, I can only agree. Maybe it was the way my heart clenches at the mere thought of him walking alone, or the way I can imagine us taking our last breaths together yet I know that will never happen— but either way, it was painful.
He whispers sweet nothings to my ears, placing light kisses on my temple as he leads us to the bedroom to rest once my tears have finally ceased and I have calmed down. His hold on me gets tighter every time I let out a small hiccup due to crying, almost as if he was telling me that he was feeling the same pain as I was.
Hours pass by as we lay in silence. My tears have long dried up but we remain coped up in each other's arms.
"Would it not be interesting if you bear the name Zhongli?" I ask him in a somewhat croaky voice.
He peers down and tilts his head, "Now where did that thought come from?"
I shrug, or at least try to, and look up at the ceiling as we shift our positions to lay on our back, hands finding one another and intertwining, "Hmm... nowhere. Just a name I wanted to give you in case that you are needing a new one."
"Oh? How come it would be interesting then?"
I look at him with a comforting yet sad smile.
"Because it means it's time to leave, to go somewhere far away... and unfortunately, I will have to leave soon."
He furrowed his eyebrows together, "Do not say that. Who knows? Maybe you will be able to live a hundred years by my side. Besides, I think it sounds lonely. I do not think I would want to get reminded of the fact that you are not here with me."
I hum, "But if you bear the name I gave you, wouldn't it feel like I never went away? That no matter where your feet take you, no matter how far you go, I am and will always be with you, just as I have vowed."
The wooden door leading to my writing room slowly slides open and Morax's head peers in, an adorable smile plastered on his face, "You have been quite busy these days, beloved. I do not wish to disturb you but I am starting to long for your presence."
I let out a shameless giggle, "Alright, alright. Just let me write down a few more words while I still have ideas to input."
He peeks on the parchment paper out of curiosity, taken aback when he finds his name on it, "You are writing about us?"
I nod proudly, "My last piece."
"... But why?"
I smile and approach him, taking his hand and placing my forehead against his after he lowers his head down to my level, "I told you, did I not? I do not wish to leave the person I love with nothing. So that you will not be lonely, my words will be with you. I will be with you, always..."
"... and to tell the gods... to tell you, that I loved every second of my life with you— that it was, indeed, a good life."
"Who are you, young man? Are you my son?" I speak with a very hoarse voice, squinting my eyes at the figure in front of me, as if my poor vision will allow me to do that.
I hear a melancholic yet gentle sigh come from him before he takes my rough hands and looks afar, "Don't mind me. I'm just someone who vowed to be with you for as long as time lets us."
"Oh.... really? That’s quite endearing," I hum, "Well, may I know your name?"
"This… I think I may just have an idea to whom this book is for," Paimon trails off, looking over at the traveler who was in the same trance as her, "Paimon thinks we should let the strange person we saw a while ago give this directly to Zhongli!"
Lumine nods, turning around and starting to run towards the direction they were at previously, recalling the person named Cheng who gave them the novel they just finished reading. They were unique, dressed in layers of robes and it was almost as if they lived in the old times of Liyue. Even the way they talked and moved screamed ancient.
Just as they turned the corner, a woman near the Liuli Pavilion called them over, "Traveler! Here!" As they approach, Lumine cranes her neck to look around the area but to no avail, the strange person was long gone.
"Are you two alright?" the woman asks, much to their confusion, "I saw you talking to literal air awhile ago and I was worried you have eaten something strange."
The pair looks at each other in surprise before Paimon replies, "You didn't see anyone? Like a person dressed in the strangest attire? They dressed really anciently!"
The door of the Liuli Pavilion opens and there goes Zhongli, a calm expression morphing to an awkward one when he realizes he barged into an ongoing conversation. He apologizes for the disturbance and despite the curiosity he had upon overhearing bits of Paimon's statements, he starts his walk back to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. At least not until he hears Paimon call his name, "Zhongli! Wait! A person named Cheng. Do you know them?"
He abruptly stops and turns to the two, eyes wide for a second before it returns to his usual demeanor, "How... how do you know of them?"
"We met them," Paimon says, as if it was the simplest thing to do, "Well, honestly, we don't know because we were apparently speaking to nothing but air! It's so odd!"
He stays still, honestly having no idea of what response he should give them because he himself found it hard to believe.
"Well anyway, they asked us to give you this nov— wait, where is it? It was just in your hands a while ago, Traveler!"
In the midst of the loud chaos made by the two in the middle of Liyue, he thinks he knows what to do and where to go now.
It was the day of the Rite of Parting, an event where he's supposed to be taking part of, even just a part of the audience. But he finds himself hanging around the Wanwen Bookhouse, eyes scanning the shelves until it stops at a familiar name engraved on the cover of a book.
"Oh! Greetings, Mr. Zhongli! I see you took a liking to a very great and romantic novel," Jifang comments as she sees the book in his hands.
He looks at her, "Is it really great?"
She gasps in delight, "Yes, indeed! Almost all of the Liyue folks have enjoyed this story! You can say it is a classic, especially for readers! Cheng definitely outdid themselves with this one! Such a mysterious person yet equally amazing. Imagine? Being able to make such a beautiful love story with Morax? They don’t mention the present name they gave Morax though, such a shame. Maybe it was due to old age, they wrote it until the last moments of their life after all. Anyway, I have to get back to work but enjoy reading that masterpiece!"
He feels his heart swell in pride upon knowing his lover had his wish come true. His nimble fingers carefully open the pages of the book and hours later, as he sat inside the Funeral Parlor after taking the novel home, he finds himself absorbing each and every word Cheng have written, the loneliness sitting idly inside him subsiding little by little.
I found solace in the countless cups of tea you brew whenever I encounter distress with my works, the endless stories you tell with a smile so beautiful that not even the most heavenly scenery can vanquish, but most of them all, the feeling of your hand intertwining with mine, providing me with serenity no one else has ever done before. Under the moonlit night of Liyue, I remember your wistful amber eyes, staring deep into my soul as you proclaim your love and desire for me. How foolish was it of me to think that I could live this life without even experiencing such warmth and intimacy?
It is a banality, really — how I wish to become a well-known writer with unique tales and yet the story I am telling is something so common to folks that they have most probably heard similar ones before. But I guess this is what it means to love and to be loved. Everything is like a cycle that just keeps on being repeated, yet we never get tired of it, of the feelings it brings. So, thank you, Morax. Words will never be sufficient to show how grateful I am to you for showing me a whole new world but I suppose this is still a way for me to give back to you.
With this little book of mine, I hope my heart reaches yours regardless of how many eras may have passed before and after us. So, my beloved, do not be too lonely without me. Even if you find yourself longing for my presence, just open this and my heart shall be with you.
This belongs to you, it always will.
And I do, as well.
#genshin impact#zhongli#genshin x oc#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#zhongli x oc#zhongli x reader#genshin headcanons#zhongli headcanons#genshin scenarios#genshin fic#genshin fluff#genshin smut#zhongli smut#zhongli imagines
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Dancing In The Sky | a.i.
pairing: ashton irwin x reader
genre: fluff to angst
warnings: death (not main characters)
summary: request - Hi!!! It’s very morbid but, I really want one with ash or cal, where they’re in one of the boys house just the boys and their girls, and then the reader receive a call in the middle of the conversation telling someone in her family is dead and she just in shock and she tells them, and the he hugs her and she breaks!!! Thanks
a/n: recently my granny had to be rushed to the hospital and i thought i was going to lose her - luckly it didn't happen. i felt this request particularly close. i always say 'i love you' to my grandma before hunging up on the phone (we live pretty far away from each other) and i thought about what would happen if i forgot to say it, not knowing it would be for the last time. i'm sorry to anyone of you if this triggers you. i love you.
you should read this imagine while listening to: before you go
➳
The light coming in from the window on your right illuminates the whole room, it’s late afternoon but the sun shines almost as if it were noon. The scorching heat has now passed, there is a breeze that cools the air and spreads the scent of the grill in the garden, alternating the scent of grilled vegetables and steaks throughout the house. The pool water is still moving, the inflatable flamingo is wedged near the pool stairs and you can still see the tracks of Michael's wet feet near the diving board.
Halsey's songs are repeated at a low volume, but the guys sing them out loud and a smile forms on your face as you see how they are always ready to support their friends, not only publicly with tweets or instagram stories, but also in private, enjoying music like normal people do.
You hold onto the sweatshirt Ashton gave you as you grab your cell phone from the sofa and put it in your shorts pocket. Your hair is still wet from the shower you just took and it’s leaking few drops of water as you head outside, where your friends are starting to set the table for dinner.
You don't know how it happened, you have vague memories, but you feel grateful to have them around you, to have the opportunity to consider them as a second family, to be able to hug them and to be able to laugh with them. It is a fortune that not everyone has and you make sure you don't waste this opportunity.
“Honey!” Ashton yells, shaking his hand up and looking at you with an amused look. A few tufts of hair fall in front of his face and with one hand he tries to move them back, only to find them in front of his eyes again. His swimsuit is now dry, his chest is red from staying under the sun all day but his tattoos still manage to stand out in the tan and a huge smile covers his face.
Seeing him so happy, confident, at peace with his mind and in love with life, warms your heart and you almost feel like crying of joy in seeing him like this.
You wiped his tears, hugged him under the covers and held him a million times as his demons took over, when mirrors became enemies and food scared him.
You turned off his cell phone every time he read comments about his body and spent sleepless nights keeping him company while he vented his frustration by playing the drums.
You held out your hand to him while accompanying him in his battle against himself, you kissed him as he went through hell and his joy was worth every single tear.
You are proud of him, of the way he went back to wearing his favorite t-shirts and of the way he has come to love all his flaws, even though you're still sure he doesn't even have one.
As you leave the house, a cool breeze passes through your hair and you instinctively close your eyes to be able to appreciate the moment of coolness in the terrible heat of the last few days.
When you open your eyes, amazement takes over your body: the sky is not simply blue like the water in the pool you've been in all afternoon, but pink and orange clouds cover it completely; the sun hides behind them, tinges the sky with more intense colors and you feel your soul leave your body at the sight of so much beauty.
The sunset is so mesmerizing that you don't even feel the need to pick up your phone and take a picture of it, it's so beautiful that you're sure not even the best cameras would be able to capture such a marvel.
It’s a pink and orange sunset, bigger clouds are the backdrop to smaller more intense colors and the skyline of the city is slowly tinged with black, the lights of the buildings begin to see each other more and the world slows down as it prepares for the quietest hours.
The sunset arouses familiar, nostalgic, certainly not typical emotions in you; it’s so beautiful that you feel like you are living a dream, you pinch your arm lightly to make sure you are awake but Ashton's laugh reminds you that it is reality and, with that melody in the background, you understand that the difference between dream and reality is not that big.
And even if it were a dream, you know that dreaming never hurt anybody.
As the sunset surrounds you in a warm hug, a small white butterfly begins to flutter around you, spinning around and bringing a smile to your lips. The insect is small, but in the orange sky it stands out in an important way, making you feel like a Disney princess. You stretch your hand up, raising your forefinger and inviting the little butterfly to lean on it and, without fear, it leans on it, resting its wings and showing itself even more beautiful than you thought.
It’s white but at the corners of its wings it has black spots, its gaze seems to be directed towards you as its antennae move delicately. A sense of awe and wonder makes its way inside of you and you slowly bring the butterfly closer to you so you can admire it better, noticing how safe it continues to feel with you.
“Is everything alright?” Sierra asks as she sets the plates on the table, she's too busy to notice how you seem to be in symbiosis with the butterfly.
“Yeah.” You whisper while the insect continues to stay on your finger, motionless, leading you to feel a sense of peace in the moment you are living.
Suddenly, while the blue sky is giving its space to the dark night, the butterfly takes off and, after making another turn around you, heads towards the sky and merges with the lights of the stars.
You walk back to your friends, still confused about what just happened, and you see Michael trying to move the fire bowl to the corner of the pool. “Mike, if I were you I'd be more careful, you're not the luckiest person when it comes to fire.” You smile and you hear your friends laughing out loud as a grin appears on Michael's face.
“Don't worry, Crystal has seen enough tv shows about doctors to know what to do if I get burned again.” He replies looking at his girlfriend and laughing.
“Shut up and come here,” Crystal responds by pretending to be offended. “Dinner’s ready.” her lips try to hold back the smile that is forming on her face.
You sit on your boyfriend's lap while Luke sets the meat on the plates and Sierra pours the beer into your glass. Ashton pushes your hair to the side and kisses you on the neck, giving you goosebumps and getting winks from his friends.
“You’re terrible.” he replies while looking at them and squeezing his hands on your lap, his head resting on your back while he rolls his eyes and smiles. Everyone burst out laughing and the sound of their laughter still feels like the most beautiful melody to you.
As you are about to take your first bite, your phone starts ringing and vibrating inside the pocket of your shorts. You put your fork down and stand up, being careful not to trip over Ashton's feet as he gives you a questioning look. You give him a kiss on his head and you go away slightly from your group so you can hear better.
Your mother's voice is low as you bring the phone to your ear, a smile forms on your face to hear the sound of her voice but the world collapses on you a few seconds later, when her words become understandable while she cries.
The conversation is short-lived, it is mostly made up of your mother's sobs and words you never wanted to hear. Your mouth opens slightly and your heart seems to stop. And when she closes the call, you have a hard time figuring out if you are having a nightmare or if you are still in reality.
“Was that your lover on the phone?” Calum smiles as you stare at your phone screen as soon as you hang up the call. You look up and see everyone's gaze on you as your eyes start to pinch.
“It was my mother,” you take a deep sigh as you try to find the courage to speak. “My grandmother died a couple of hours ago. She's gone and-” and the words die in your mouth.
Your friends' smiles quickly transform as their brows rise and their eyes lose their light. Crystal is the first to hug you, in less than a second her arms are around you but it's all so surreal that you can't even find the strength to move your body. You hear whispers, but your ears are muffled as Ashton takes the place of your best friend and holds you close to his chest, kissing your hair and whispering words of comfort.
It all happens so fast that you struggle to metabolize, it seems to you that the whole world has stopped or is going too fast, it is hard to try to understand as your mind repeats your mother's words all over again.
You talked to your grandmother the day before, you described to her the weather and you told her all the projects you had in mind, including going to see her as soon as possible. She had told you some stories from her past because she knew how much you loved hearing stories from other times and then you said goodbye to her in a hurry because someone had rang the doorbell.
You didn't tell her you loved her and your heart breaks even more at the realization that she left without knowing the affection you felt for her.
Did she know you loved her? Did she know that she was the most important person to you? Did she know you were grateful for all the sacrifices she had made to make you happy? Did she know you were proud of her? Did she know you loved the way she kissed your hands? Did she know how much you cared about her? Or did she pass wondering if you loved her?
If that were the case, you would never forgive yourself.
Part of you, however, is aware that behind those wrinkles and trembling hands, there were years of wisdom and intelligence and that, even when she was sick, she knew that you loved her unconditionally.
You still remember how she was the one who taught you to ride a bike when your parents were too busy working, how her hunched back bent even more as she pushed you along the street outside your childhood house, letting you go on your own when you learned, while still lying to you about how her hands were attached to the bike, to make you feel protected.
You certainly still remember the way she bragged about you, how she proudly used to tell all the ladies at the grocery store that you were her niece, her greatest joy and the best gift she ever received.
And, if you close your eyes and focus, you can still feel the warmth of the old fireplace in her home, of her hands holding yours while your face was resting on her shoulder. You can still hear the sound of burning wood, of her sweet voice singing melodies belonging to past eras while, between one verse and another, her lips kissed your head and whispered words of love.
Most of all, you have memories of how her arms wrapped around your little body when there was a thunderstorm, when the screams inside your house got too loud and when you saw her again after weeks, with your hearts coming back to beat in unison and your lungs beginning to breathe again.
Now that she is gone, who would be by your side? Who would teach you to cook and sew?
You would no longer hear her heart beating when you leaned against her chest, you would no longer hear the sound of her breaths when you slept next to her, you would no longer wake up with the smell of the flowers she grew and, above all, her dry, wrinkled lips would no longer whisper “I love you” to you.
All the fights, all the moments when you were bothered by her calls and all your snorting about the boredom of being with her bring a pang to your heart that tastes of guilt and arrogance, of shame and wasted moments that won't come back.
She was now gone, her heart had beaten for the last time and her eyes had stopped shining and the more time passes, the more her absence starts to hurt.
While your friends are around you to not leave you alone and Ashton hugs you tightly while caressing your hair, everything seems to start to make sense: the butterfly that just moments before had leaned on your hand, the sunset so beautiful and intense - she was there, she was giving you her last goodbye with all the delicacy possible.
She was reassuring you that she will always be there for you, that she will be in the sunsets under which you will fall asleep and that she will be the butterflies that will fly around in the sky, to reassure you that everything’s gonna be alright.
And with this new certainty and a weight in your chest that will slowly go away, you let yourself go, the tears begin to roll down your face and the sobs echo in the silence of the evening, as the stars light up the sky and God gains a new angel.
Ashton knows it won't be easy, that it will be months before that pain will become more bearable and that family lunches and dinners will be harder, that that empty chair around the table will be a stab in the heart every time.
But he also knows that you are strong, that you will be able to overcome everything, that sadness will turn into a smile when you’ll remember her and that, whatever happens, in a way or another, he will always be there next to you, just like your grandma used to be.
—
#5 seconds of summer imagines#5 seconds of summer imagine#5sos imagine#5sos imagines#ashton irwin x reader#ashton irwin imagine#ashton 5 seconds of summer#ashton irwin imagines#ashton irwin#ashton irwin x you#ashton 5sos#ashton fletcher irwin#calum 5sos#calum 5 seconds of summer#michael 5sos#michael 5 seconds of summer#luke 5sos#luke hemmings
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Lying To Her Love
i noticed there were no fics for lorraine and felt i had to remedy that
also no hate to ed he's a dilf
Lorraine wasn't really sure what prompted her to stray from the group. Conjecture would be the only way to describe it: a sudden desire to distance herself from Ed, to explore the house alone. A new feeling had also arisen deep inside, in her chest if she had to place it, similar to a compass. Like there was an internal needle pointing in the direction she was supposed to go, and she chose to trust this instinct. Though thus far her inference skills had brought about nothing but terrifying situations.
And unfortunately, it seemed this time would be no different...
The needle slowly spun round to point out a set of stairs leading down toward the basement. A layer of dust had settled upon each step, indicating that no one had ventured down so far, which only served to intrigue her further. How, in a paranormal investigation, had no one thought to check the basement? As she drew closer, Lorraine realised there was a very faint set of footsteps. They were too imperceptible to have been made recently, yet the house had supposedly been uninhabited since the disturbances began over a week ago.
Had it not been for the very insistent compass directing her down, the footsteps would've been convincing enough. Careful not to unsettle the evidence, she began to descend down the staircase, one hand tracing along the brick wall as if to ground herself in reality. With each step she could feel a weight bearing down on her chest, a dizzy wave rushing over her. At one point the sensation grew so overwhelming that she had to pause and close her eyes. Whilst stood still, the strange pressure that had been building up in her ears reached its peak. Without opening her eyes, Lorraine knew she'd crossed over to one of her prescience visions.
However, when she eventually did open them, it was to find everything exactly as she'd left it. There were no indications that anything had changed, except for the familiar feeling that she was watching through someone else's eyes. Or rather, watching what someone else wanted her to. She'd been brought here for a reason, and by god she was going to get to the bottom of this. Reinvigorated by a new determination, she practically skipped past the last few steps and onto the cold basement floor.
Here Lorraine found the first confirmation that she was no longer in reality: natural light flooding in from no visible source. It was a welcomed change from the gloom of late evening she'd left behind, but only made her more weary of whatever she was about to encounter since it was clearly trying to lure her into a false sense of security. Nonetheless, she cautiously ambled further into the open space. In fact, it was eerie how empty the room was. Usually she'd be climbing over piles of abandoned objects, trying to give equal attention to each one which often invoked fabrications of the mind. However, here there was nothing for her brain to work with, save for the occasional movement out the corner of her eye that she knew was nothing more than fiction to fill the void and warrant her apprehension.
By the time she'd reached the opposite end of the room, nothing yet had occurred to explain why she'd been dragged into this particular vision. And then, an abrupt, horrifying possibility dawned on her. What if she was stuck here? It had never happened before, but then again, in most cases 'the cause' would've revealed itself by now.
Although, with this realisation came another equally strange one. Lorraine could feel no fear, no panic, no negative emotions. All she was aware of was complete relaxation. Even her most horrific memories and upsetting images couldn't create any response. They were nothing but distant stories told by a different version of her. The positive aura filling the room started to shift into something else, into an almost crippling pleasure. It was both intense and insufficient. She found herself clutching at her stomach, as if she'd suddenly been made aware of an incapacitating emptiness. She longed for company, yet the idea of returning to reality appeared an incredibly unappealing one. Instead, Lorraine wanted to fall further into this dreamlike pleasure.
But that was what it wanted.
With great difficulty, and an exclamation of discomfort, Lorraine turned on her heels to begin her escape. Though she halted upon catching sight of a figure stood before her. She compelled herself to push past the profound ache lingering in her gut, standing up straight to face this mysterious being. Here she came across the second confirmation that this wasn't reality, not that she needed it anymore. You were indescribably beautiful, radiating a sort of divine light like an alluring beacon of possibility.
Most spectres or demons Lorraine met were the opposite. They enveloped the light around them, constructed a dark gap in which there was nothing but pain and regret. They represented everything that couldn't be. A screaming phantom that reminded her to appreciate life.
But you-
You represented all that could've been without any guilt or anguish. You emanated both warm nostalgia and burning desire, the effects of which were palpable for anyone who could tune into the energy, and Lorraine was being strongly subjected to it. Though first and foremost, she had a job to do.
She swallowed, refocused her attention to the task at hand. "Why-" Another wave of dizzying desire washed over her. She tried again. "Why are you-" The world around her was spinning. She blinked rapidly to try stave off vertigo, but stumbled anyway.
A cool reprieve from the searing pleasure caught hold of her. Using the embrace for support she stabilized herself only to come face to face with you.
Despite your overpowering influence on her, you appeared surprisingly human up close. Normal enough to blend in with reality, but sufficiently attractive to be memorable. Still there was something irresistible to your appearance that encouraged Lorraine to sink further into your hold, to move her hands to wrap around the back of your neck. She hadn't felt so loved since early on in her relationship with Ed...
Ed.
She shouldn't be doing this. Her marriage commitment ought to have her fighting against you- but that was practically inconceivable. Besides, how could something morally wrong feel so right? No, this wasn't infidelity. She wasn't exactly sure what it was, but not that. She would never cheat on Ed.
The temptation was intoxicating. Lorraine's hands started to trace patterns along any available skin, savouring the unfamiliar yet exhilarating sensation. You weren't a living breathing person so there was something different about the way you felt that she was eager to investigate. In response to her caress, you brought one hand up to cup her cheek, maintaining intimidating yet intimate eye contact. The touch emitted pure pleasure and Lorraine gasped as she leant into the contact. Time seemed to slow as neither moved, opting to stare at the other in silence instead.
She was vaguely aware that time moved differently in her visions. That the longer she spent in one, the more time had passed upon return. Though currently it was the least of her worries. All she could focus on right now was you and the close proximity that appeared to be narrowing still. Your gaze had dropped to the lower half of her face. Lorraine did the same, her eyes fixating on your lips. However, before you closed the gap she raised a hand, motivated by a new desire. She was shaking slightly, but ignored it to gently brush a finger along your lips. She wanted a taste of the upcoming kiss, and was pleasantly unsurprised. As expected, the touch only reasserted her conviction.
She'd never wanted anything- anyone- as much as she did now.
Suddenly your mouth was upon hers, bringing cooling bliss with it. Lorraine moaned. She felt again a rush of possibilities, the surging tide of everything that could be. The muted uncertainty at the back of her mind blurred into nothingness as she clung onto you. Your mouth was the only solid thing in a swaying world, and she planned on indulging herself in the addictiveness of it. She parted her lips, provoking insatiable tremors along her nerves and another rush of giddiness. She felt young, as if she were experiencing intimacy for the first time again.
Your hands were everywhere, carrying an influx pleasure. She'd never felt anything quite like it. Time became irrelevant, everything except you was meaningless. She was lost to an eternity of bliss, in a realm of endless fulfilment. It was incomprehensible, otherworldly.
And then it was over.
She hadn't noticed she was lightly crying, or trembling so much. Or that she was on the ground. You'd simply disappeared and she'd collapsed. But someone was holding her now, someone else.
"Lorraine!" Ed was crouching before her, gently shaking her out of the dreamlike state and back to consciousness. She'd never loathed him so much for saving her.
"What happened?" He asked, lowering to meet her eyes. "Are you okay?"
She scoffed, her mind trying to comprehend all that'd just happened. She was left reeling from the sudden weight of Ed's touch and separated from him. "I'm fine." Her voice barely breached a whisper.
"Did you see anything?"
Lorraine finally met his eyes, but she couldn't tell him.
"No." She answered. "There's nothing here." She lied.
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Spencie
Summary : Four time you called him Spencie, and the one time he really didn’t mind.
Pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category : fluff
Warnings : some curse words, semi-nudity kinda ??
Word count : 3,652 (even I am surprised)
Proof reader : @hannahjoycebanana (thank u for being here when i needed it and thank you for being my proof reader here. You’re one of the best friend i could’ve asked for.)
A/N : It took me so long to come back to tumblr because i had some issues, and i didn’t want to come back until i as finished with at least one of my project. Here it is, i hope you like it as much as i enjoyed writing it.
MASTERLIST
1- New friends
“Spencie !” Your excited voice pierced the silence in the almost empty bullpen, as it was pretty early. It didn’t seem to matter to you, you seemed as excited, as full of energy as usual. Your eyes were shining happily, and it didn’t take a profiler to know that it wasn’t your first cup of coffee. You were new to the team, joining it after the whole “cat adams” situation, and you weren’t aware of the meaning of the nickname to him. That’s why he tried not to be angry, but you could see his jaw and his fists clenching in a attempt to control himself. You moved closer to him, poking his nose with your fingers – you knew how he was with touches, but you couldn’t help yourself – before walking away. He gulped, frozen in his position. It was only JJ’s arrival in the room that made him move, but still. His eyes flickered to you, already focused on something other than himself, and he bit his lip. He didn’t know how to explain his situation to you, how to ask you not to call him that again, but he didn’t want to have to talk about it all over again. He already lived it almost every nights in his nightmares, remembered the prison, the games she played with his heart, his family, his everything. He didn’t want to see the look of pity on your face, he didn’t want things to change. However, he couldn’t just let you remind him of it, every day. So, silently, almost hesitantly, he walked up to your desk, were you were silently reading a report, taking notes on what to correct and what to work on. You were in your own world and didn’t see him coming, so he had to clear his throat, calling your name. You looked up and smiled softly.
“Hi, Spencie ! Anything I can do ?”
Your voice made your blonde coworker look up, and her worried eyes fell on Spencer, meeting his. He sighed and slowly shook his head. He saw your frown, your eyes swinging between JJ and him, fully knowing you were missing something. He looked up to you and you almost winced at the pain and anger in his eyes, even though he tried to hide it.
“Just, don’t call me Spencie, please.”
You frowned and were about to object when you met JJ’s eyes, and she shook her head, silently being you to accept. So you simply nodded and played with your hair, feeling sorry even though you had no idea what you did wrong. He sent you a sad, forced smile, before walking back to his desk, his fist slowly unclenching, and you could almost see the anger leave his body
2- Dance with me
The second time, you were pretty drunk. He was watching you dancing with the rest of the girl, well, he was watching you all from afar, silently sipping on his lemonade drink. He watched you move your body in rhythm, obviously singing the lyrics that you seemed to know so well. He was almost hypnotized with the way you moved, the way you held your hands up happily, or playfully danced with Morgan – Spencer didn’t want to admit it, but it made him clench his jaw. After a while, a new song started, and he knew you were up to something bad the minutes you walked up to him, moving your hips.
“Spencie ! Come and dance with me !”
He almost didn’t say anything. You were drunk, you didn’t know what you were saying and he couldn’t blame you. But still, the memories came back in an instant, the pain, the worry, the anger, and he looked away, shaking his hand.
“I don’t dance. And please, stop calling me like that.”
You pouted, tugging on his shirt. You obviously hadn’t gotten the message, and with the number of drinks you had he couldn’t really get mad, but still. One part of him felt grateful, happy even to be the one who caught your attention, but the other part sent him warning signals, remembering the last person who called him like that. He shoved you away as gently as he could, and it seemed like you had finally caught on. Still pouting, you pulled away, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Fine.” He could hear the disappointment in your drunken voice, and he almost stood up to dance with you. “I’ll go find someone else.” You turned around, arms down scanning the crowd for a potential partner. Before you could even take a step, you felt a hand gently wrap around your arm and you looked back, only to meet Spencer’s eyes. You smiled widely and jumped up happily. “Let’s go dancing !” He sighed and tugged you back to him. The only reason he accepted to dance with you was because he couldn’t stand to watch you flirt with someone else – no, he wasn’t jealous. Just a bit protective of his favorite girl, that was all. He almost slapped himself for his thought. You were just a friend. He had no right to be jealous of seeing you go to some other guy to enjoy your evening when he was right here. And what mattered the most was your smile, so contagious. He wasn’t jealous. He was doing it to make you happy, that was all !
“There’s one condition.” You tilted your head, showing that you were listening. Even drunk, you stayed that respectful, kind girl he liked so much. “You need to stop drinking, and you need to stop calling me Spencie. I’m serious, Y/N.” You pouted a bit, obviously not pleased by his ‘no more drink’ rule, but you ended up nodding, leading him to the dance floor. Seeing you smile made him forget, for a moment, the bad memories brought by the so simple nickname, replacing them with images of your smile.
3- Spencie Undercover
The third time, it wasn’t really your fault. You and Spencer being the only one who hadn’t been showed on the news, you were the ones who had to go undercover. The fact that you had to act as a couple pleased Spencer more than he would admit, because the warmth of your hand against his was calming, soothing. Almost as if it was always supposed to be here. You walked in the restaurant, hand in hand, talking about some book you read after he recommended it to you. Morgan and Hotch had specified that you had to act as normally as possible, so you had immediately started a small talk. You two were already so close that acting as a couple wasn’t too problematic, except that he couldn’t really tear his eyes away from you. You were wearing a blue dress, your hair in a braid falling on your right shoulder. Your back was naked, and Spencer did his best not to notice how pretty you looked. You were wearing some light makeup, and he knew that, under your dress, your gun was ready to be fired. He didn’t even want to think about it - the way the holster was hugging your leg, and maybe you would have to lift the skirt of your dress to take it out-, but his mind couldn’t stop the image to keep coming up. You walked up to the counter, asking for your table, while he scanned the room. Happily, he quickly found what he was looking for, or who. He used his famous trick to make them change spot - the usual light problem - ending up as close as he could to the target. It was a young man, flirting with a beautiful woman who was probably going to end up to be the next victim. However, Spencer and you were here to stop him. You didn’t have enough to arrest him just yet, but all you needed was for him and his target to go outside, where he would try and attack her -like he did with all his other victims-. But you and Spencer were ready to jump in at any moment, collect some intel on him if possible. It wasn’t a date, and it seemed hard for both of you to remember that. You just liked to be in each other’s company, and Spencer continuous rants made you feel weirdly safe, just as much as he loved to hear your not-so-silent singing and your excited eyes every time you talked about a book you read. If one of you had the guts to talk about your feelings for each other, it would have been a long time since you would’ve been together.
“Should we share a fondant, Spencie ?”
The use of the nickname made him suddenly look up from the menu. You were about to order dessert - the unsub’s ‘date’ seemed to take longer than they all wished - and he didn’t think you’d think about that. He opened his mouth, frowning a bit, ready to tell you, once again, to stop using that so horrible nickname, but then he saw you, really saw you. You had on that special smile you only gave to him, a bit playful, a bit flirty and a lot shy, but your eyes were fond, almost loving. He bit down his lips, his heart skipping a bit. You were so beautiful that he almost forgot to answer. You called his name again - his name, not the nickname - and he slowly nodded. Suddenly, he missed it. He missed the way ‘Spencie’ seemed to roll off your tongue so easily, like it was made for it. The bad memories that Cat Adams had stuck him with seemed to disappear every time you used the nickname, every time you two were close. You seemed to make all the hurt, all the pain disappear, and that was probably why he couldn’t stop looking at your lips, wondering why he never kissed you before.
4- I’m tired, Spencie
The fourth time felt totally different. You all had to share rooms and, Spencer and you ending up all alone, you had no choice but share a room. Share a bed. Which wouldn’t have bothered Spencer if it was anyone else, but it felt different with you. Everything did. You were both really tired after the days and sleepless nights you spent trying to catch the unsub – some woman poisoning pregnant women, hoping to get their baby -. The craziness of the situation had taken you both a bit longer to find her – You were specialized in linguistic, body language but, most importantly, psychology – You knew the unsub had to have some kind of mental illness, but neither of you understood how this woman expected to get a baby from a dead woman. Either way, you were both tired, really, really tired. Spencer was used to it, so it didn’t show much on you, but you hadn’t been on the team long enough to get used to sleepless nights and busy days full of thinking too much and running around. You stumbled in the room, closely followed by Spencer. His eyes were full of worry, because your brain really seemed to work differently. It was like you had held up walls all day, acting like your fatigue wasn’t having a huge impact on you, but as soon as you ended up all alone after the case finished, the walls crumbled down . Your eyes weren’t shining anymore and you had trouble keeping them open, making you walk around like you were lost – or drunk -. Spencer kindly guided you to the bed, where you sat down, rubbing your eyes. He knew you were too tired to get changed, but staying in your dirty clothes was definitely not a good idea. You could shower in the morning, he didn’t mind, but there was no way he would let you sleep dressed like that.
“Where are your pajamas, Y/N ?” His voice made you look up, and it took you a second to answer, like your brain needed time to register the question. You tilted your head, rubbing your eyes, before pointing to your go-bag. “Pink hoodie. Do I really have too ? ‘M too tired, Spencie…”
Spencer tried not to smile. He really did, he tried to feel angry, sad or just.. Something. He didn’t want to admit to himself that he actually liked you using this nickname. He forced a sigh, before nodding and reaching in your go bag to take out the clearly oversized pink hoodie, and blushed as he looked away from your underwear. He gently walked up to you, handing you your hoodie. You shook your head, raising your arms like a child. He sighed again and tried not to blush as he grabbed the bottom of your shirt, pulling it off you. He looked away from you as he waited for you to take off your bra, handing you the hoodie, his eyes focused on the wall. He might have been very attracted to you, but that never meant he would do something so stupid. Once you were clothed again, he helped you take of your shoes well, he took off your shoes while you laid across the bed, eyes closed and silently singing some tangled song -, before gently tugging on the bottom off your legging. He was hopping you would sit up and help him take it off so he wouldn’t have to be too close, but you were so deep in a tired, child-like mood that you simply lifted your legs, yawning. He sighed again and very carefully took off your leggings, and he was glad that your hoodie was long enough to hide your underwear and upper thighs.
“Here you go. Now try and sleep, yea ?” He watched you nod and smiled softly, shaking his head as he tried to forget how close you two were. He made sure you were looking away – you were curled up in a ball, facing away from you – before getting changed and slipping in the bed. He thought you were already asleep, but as soon as you felt the mattress dip under his weight, you snuggled up to him. He froze as he felt your head against him, pushing him to lay down. As soon as he did, you got even closer, your head resting against his chest, where you could hear his heart beat. You smiled tiredly, looking up and gently kissing his cheeks, your eyes almost closed, before snuggling back against him. “Night Night, Spencie…” Your voice slowly went silent and, very quickly, he could feel your breathing slow down. After making sure you were asleep, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you even close, and kissed the top of you head. He smiled sadly and closed his eyes. For the first time in month, Spencer actually slept, dreaming about you in a field of flowers, your light bringing a smile to his lips.
5- Your Spencie
The next morning, Spencer woke up before you. You were so beautiful, sleeping peacefully, your hair surrounding your face in such a beautiful way. He smiled sadly, stroking your hair. He hated the fact that you were so close, but he couldn’t have you, couldn’t touch you, couldn’t kiss you. Lost in his mind, in his imagination, he didn’t realize you were waking up, slowly lifting your head up. You smiled softly. You didn’t remember much about the evening before, your brain having shut off before you even walked into the room, but you knew that you an Spencer had slept together. Well, in the same bed, at least. And you felt his hand in your hair, stroking it gently. Before you could even register what you were doing, you gently pecked his lips before snuggling back into him. “Morning, Spencie.”
Spencer froze. Was he dreaming ? He could still feel your lips on his own, but it felt so irreal. He looked down at you, frowning. After the minute of silence, you realized what you had done and looked up, ready to say sorry and die in shame. Your eyes met Spencer’s and suddenly, you felt home. It seemed so normal, so comfortable. His hand slowly, hesitantly moved from your hair to your cheek, stroking it gently.
“Good Morning, Y/N.” You smiled sadly. Was he going to avoid the topic of your kiss ? Was this the end of your very special friendship ? Spencer must have felt the worry growing up inside you, seeing it in your eyes, and he leaned down, gently kissing you. When your lips met, it felt like your two worlds collided, melting into one. He hesitantly licked your bottom lips and you shyly opened your mouth, letting the kiss go further. Your hands flew to his hair as you sat up, and one of his hand helped you both lean against the wall behind the bed, before settling on your waist. It didn’t went further, it was a simple kiss, but it felt like it was meant to be. Neither of you wanted to pull away, breathing through your noses, making sure to keep a steady pace – no matter how fast you wanted to go, no matter how many feelings you wanted to put into the kiss -. He was still stroking your cheek, your hand was still in his hair, playing with his curls, when someone knocked on the door.
“Spencer ? Y/N ? It’s almost time to go, you guys ready ?”
Spencer growled against your mouth and pulled away, the look on his face telling you exactly what he was going to say – something along the line of ‘fuck off, Morgan’ – and you gently put your hand over his mouth, smiling softly. “We’ll be down in ten minutes ! I can’t find some of my clothes. We won’t be long !”
You heard a laugh, and bit your lips, waiting to hear Morgan walk away. As soon as he did, you pulled your hand away from Spencer’s mouth, looking back at him. His eyes were shining, and where you expected to see lust – after all, you were straddling him, wearing nothing but a hoodie and underwear -, all you could see was love and deep respect. He smiled and kissed you again, but you put your hands against his chest, gently pulling away. “We need to get ready, Spencie.”
His smiled softly and you got up, grabbing your clothes and running to the bathroom to get ready. As he got changed in a corner of the room, Spencer thought about the way you talked to him, the way you called him. For once Spencie didn’t feel like a curse, but more like a symbol of good memories. Everything that had happened with Cat was slowly fading away, replaced by the images of your smile, the taste of your lips, the feeling of your skin against his fingertip. You quickly walked out once you were sure he was fully clothed, and went to pack your go-bag. Spencer walked behind you, gently touching your back. You jumped in surprise, before leaning against him, laughing softly.
“You scared me.” He laughed and you smiled even more, leaning against him. “As an FBI agent, you should definitely be ready for any threat to come at any moment.” You laughed even more at his statement, turning around to put your hand against his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer. You leaned forward, whispering in his ear. “Are you a threat, Doctor ?”. You pulled away almost immediately, grinning from ear to ear. He smiled, shaking his head before letting you finish packing, grabbing his stuff and leaning against the wall.
“You know, we should talk about it.” You looked up, worry in your eyes. “Do you regret it, Spencer ?” His eyes widened and he shook his head, walking up to you. He put your go-back down, cupping your cheeks, and all you could see in his eyes was a deep, powerful love.
“I could never regret what happened today. You found a way to my heart that I didn’t even know existed, and managed to break down all my walls. After Cat, after Max, I thought I could never feel anything for someone else. Cat destroyed my thrust, Max and I just didn’t work out. But you already know all that. What I mean to say is, you destroyed all the bad memories, changed the way I felt. I couldn’t stand anyone calling me Spencie because of everything that happened with Cat but, now… It’s all I want to hear coming from you. I can’t imagine anyone else who had the power, the impact to make things change so quickly, so strongly. You are one of a kind, Y/N, and I could never regret what happened this morning. All I hope is that it won’t be a one-time thing, all I want is to keep you by my side no matter what happens. I couldn’t stand to lose you and all those amazing memories you stuck in my head. I think... I think I love you, Y/N. And I should’ve acted on it sooner, I would’ve, if I knew you liked me. But we’re here now and I promise you, I will cherish the memories of this day all my life.”
You didn’t know what to say, and could see the worry grow in his eyes with the time you took to answer. Before he could pull away, you put one hand over his, keeping it on your cheek, and put your other hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down. Pushing on your toes, your lips met, and you never felt as safe as you did in this moment. You were home, and so was he. Your Spencie.
#Criminal Minds#Criminal Minds Reid#criminal mind x reader#spencer#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer x y/n#spencer reid x y/n#how do you tag#just criminal minds stuff#fluff#spencer reid fluff
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what you do after:
WARNING: s4 spoilers
gn!reader
cw: fluff, angst, mentions of ptsd, children
armin:
After Eren's death, he took a while to recover. He wasn't hiding in his room or ignoring his responsibilities, but sometimes he would get this far-off look and it would take a moment for him to return to the real world.
He wants to help Paradis have a good relationship with foreign eldians so he doesn't have a lot of time to be a househusband.
However, he loves staying in bed with you and when you both wake up you'll walk to the beach and smell the salty air.
Yeah you guys are gonna have a beach house.
He wants to make the next step and propose, but he doesn't have the guts to do it right away. He only tells you he was waiting to propose when you mention the idea of waking up to him every morning. You kept hinting at it and he knew he had to do it.
You had a small wedding with your friends and spent your honeymoon on the sea.
jean:
He would want a nice house outside the walls somewhere in a field. He'd love the idea of raising his kids on a small farm.
Despite his negotiation skills and Armin's constant prodding, Jean wouldn't be too involved with the rest of the Eldian population. His insecurities tell him he'll only make things worse and it'd be best if he just stayed on Paradis.
Jean had already mentioned marriage before Marley attacked, so when everything settled down, Mikasa and the others weren't surprised to hear about the modest wedding you two were planning.
And yes, Mikasa was invited and she honestly loved listening to you talk about Jean.
Things would be difficult at first. Nightmares and long minutes of memories weren't new, but now that you were finally free of expectations it made coping a lot harder. It was normal for you to wake up to Jean sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands and sweat forming on his back.
You would comfort each other with firm hugs and sweet kisses, even if you're both doing something and it's just in passing.
At the end of the day you know you're going to spend the rest of your life with him and that's all the comfort you'll need.
mikasa (bc i love her):
Things were bittersweet at the end. You and Mikasa had a romantic relationship, but you knew Eren was her first love and that it would be hard for her to move on. You were willing to wait as long as she needed.
That day came sooner than you expected when you went to meet her under the designated tree. You would meet up to keep her company since Armin was gone quite often and to simply enjoy each others company.
She leaned against the base of the tree and you laid beside her, your face in the shade and from your shoulders down covered in sunlight.
All of the sudden she grabbed your hand and looked at you.
She explained that a part of her still loved Eren, and always would, but she was ready to move forward and live a beautiful, long life with you.
Holy shit she spoke more in those last 20 seconds than she did in the last year.
You gripped her hand and smiled. After a moment of looking into each others eyes, you let go and sprang to your feet. You lead her into the field where you hugged her and spun around.
After a while you two moved in together and lived peacefully. You wanted to open a bakery and she agreed. Your lives were calm, sweet, and filled with love.
You never officially have a wedding, but you do buy each other rings and refer to her as your wife. She appreciated the mellow things in life.
Damn, you were lucky as hell.
#aot#attack on titan#snk#eren jaeger#aot jean#aot armin#armin fluff#armin x reader#snk jean#jean x reader#mikasa ackerman#mikasa x reader#mikasa fluff#jean kirschtien#jean fluff
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perfect
—in which todoroki takes his sick s/o somewhere
pairing: s. todoroki x reader
genre: fluff
disclaimer: lowercase intended
a/n: sorry if im posting old oneshot drafts,, im sick and i cant rly focus on writing n stuff but i do have an idea for a new headcanon so hopefully next post will be that
Love...
It has so many context; so many stories told, so many beliefs spread, so many talk about it.
But only a few found it.
[I found a love for me.]
The sound of the knocking interrupted [name]'s thoughts. Her heartbeat arose when a dual-haired man entered her sight.
"Hey." he said, ambling down the narrow space towards her. Her smile graced the dull atmosphere in the room, even managing to slightly uplift the corner of his lips.
"Hey...Did you guys have fun tonight?" [name] asked.
"Yeah. Uraraka also wanted to know how are you. I said you're okay...Are you feeling well?" A soft hand—specifically his left side—settled atop her own as he sits down on the bed beside her, making the cushion on that spot dip from his presence.
"Yup," she confirmed. "Just a headache. But I'm fine, really."
"Are you sure? I can get us soba right now if you want."
"It's okay, I'm already full anyway."
They went utterly still while exchanging gazes; it was the type of silence that was purely comfortable. Both didn't doubt that they'd hear a feather fall. Shouto and [name] were simply enjoying each other's company.
[Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead.]
Frankly, it was broken the moment she felt a faint tug on her delicate hand.
"[name], I want to go somewhere with you tonight." She just stared at him, barely noticing how long she peered at him with her brows furrowed.
"Eh?" Normally, people don't take their significant other to a date at two in the morning right after announcing that their head aches.
"Sorry. Do you want me to rest with you here instead?"
"No no no, I was just surprised." A hearty chuckle came out of her. "You're usually already sleepy at this time, but it seems important so I'll come."
[Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet.]
Shouto took ahold of her wrists, gently helping her to get on her feet. Fragile and frail; her body wobbled for a bit. What was left of her cumulated strength gave her the balance she needed, however.
Letting her beauty captivate him once again, he internally praised his lover. Perhaps it was the red string of fate that weaved both of them together. Although he wasn't so sure about that. Something tells him that even if they're not destined together, he would've still been drawn to [name].
[Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me.]
White, loose dress covered her figure. Once she was fully upright, Shouto carefully pulled the tubes that covered her arms. His hand reached the paper bag that contained a change of clothes and a pair of shoes, and handed it to her. She gratefully accepted after saying a short thanks.
Well, back then, she used to daydream of the person who she'll shower with all her affection. Whispers of imagination satisfying her fantasies. It was her only desire after finding out how many years she has left to live.
Nine years have passed and never did [name] expect that she'd finally find him; pain from waiting suddenly vanished from her. Maybe even the very little chance of researchers developing a cure slipped out of her mind too.
['Cause we were just kids when we fell in love.]
The day she entered U.A. was memorable, of course. Since that's the start of their journey. A quest that they knew would end too soon, but accepted nonetheless.
[Not knowing what it was. I will not give you up this time.]
They stride down the hallways to the exit, not letting the chattering disturb their own peaceful minds. And after they arrived at their destination, [name] stepped out of the car.
Oaks laid below her feet, their hue complimenting the pavement. Grass dangled in one direction as well as her [h/c] tresses.
Splendor sky had stars scattered all over it, leaning down to the grounds of the earth. The glistening of her eyes forestalled his anticipation. As she stared up above, the vague scent of fire entered aloft her nostrils. At the corner of her eyes, she could see the crackling of the flames.
The heterochromatic eyed lad glanced at the spaces between her fingers and interlocked his hand with hers, guiding her further into the garden.
"It's so pretty here, Shouto."
"I know." Though his eyes never left her. It annoyed him a little because it wasn't him who she was staring at. Eventually, his ego got the best of him as his fingers tilted her chin to face him.
Closer and closer...
Those frail lips of hers that lacks warmth brushed his own. He would've noticed the frigidity instantly if it wasn't for the heated flush that seeped onto his cheeks.
[But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own.]
Unblinking eyes met as they slowly pulled apart. The after effects invited them to do it once again, but it was declined when he circled his arms around her petite waist, while she contrarily wrapped both arms around his shoulder—leaving them embracing one another close by, afraid of letting go. Moving their feet sedately in chorus, silently wishing that one can live an eternity.
[And in your eyes, you're holding mine. Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arms.]
Fingers splayed on his back. [name]'s humming causing a gentle vibration to form where they connect. He soaked in the soft melodies, savoring each note, for they seem to speak to him too.
[Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song.]
A full minute passes before she shuffled away from him.
"Sorry, I don't exactly look presentable right now."
[When you said you looked a mess,]
For a moment, she thought Shouto disregarded it, not until he murmured something.
[I whispered underneath my breath.]
Everything about [name] seems to elate. And that realization of what good relishing the years she has left brings hit her.
[But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight.]
tags; @mayukhii @innersooya
#bnha#mha#bnha headcanons#todoroki headcanons#bnha oneshots#todoroki x y/n#mha todoroki#shoto todoroki#todoroki x you#todoroki#todoroki x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#bnha shoto todoroki#todoroki shouto#todoroki fluff#shouto x y/n#shouto x reader#shouto fluff#shoto x you#bnha angst#bnha x reader#bnha imagines
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The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 1
Because this was my first time doing this I went a little crazy. If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!
Time:
- It had been welcomed with open arms.
- You two are literally the opposite but also very similar. Time is calm and stoic. You are chaotic and loud. But both of you are very cryptic.
- You’re the only person in the kingdom of hyrule currently that remembers what he had gone through. He feels like he can trust you with anything.
- It’s started with a slip up by wind and just spiraled out of control.
___________________________________
Time was discussing the groups inventory with Twilight and Wild when it happens. A small slip of the tongue followed by a laughter that could be mistaken as a fairy chime. He looked over to see your bright smile shining through under your hood. In front of you was the target of your amusement, the youngest link.
“That’s so cute!” You exclaimed to the horror of Wind, who was red in embarrassment. “Wait who’s dad?”
“Can we let this go?” The teen was covering his face now.
“It’s Time.” Four said without looking up from his book. Utter chaos broke loose in camp with just a few words. A chorus of any forms of agreement was making you laugh even harder. Time though covering up his true feelings about the situation was very lost. While yes, he acknowledged that he had slowly became the father figure of the group. That title didn’t involve you.
Unless…
“Time! I didn’t know we were married!” You bounced over to their leader looking at him with a playful smirk.
A life with you flashes in his head.
There could be a small cottage farm surrounded by the forest that reminding him of his old family and home. You could take care of the garden while he could take care the animals. In a few years the two of you might just have a few kids running around. Playing with each other without a care in the world. No more fighting. No more traveling. Just a simple lifestyle with a tight knit family. It looked peaceful. Everything he would want.
“You should have told me.” He was brought back to the present by your face looking up at him expectedly.
“I thought you knew.” He said super seriously. “We’ve got to raise nine children together already.”
“Hey! I raised you during the war old man!” Warriors called out from across camp.
“You’re the uncle then!” (Y/n) countered “I already say Twilight is our first born!” You declared pointing to Time’s flustered descendent. The rest of the conversation was tuned out as he went back to his thoughts once more.
Time lived longer than most of the heroes here by age 11. Yet not once did he stop to think about a future and family. He was so busy trying to keep out of hero work that it just slipped. Yet see you with the other heroes, knowing now that you were just as much a parental figure to the others as him. It made his softer just thinking about it and he welcomed that warm fuzzy feeling with open arms.
Reaching out he brush’s hair out of your face to kiss your temple. “I’ll propose to you properly later.” He said in a teasing tone to suggest he was only joking to hide the truth in that statement. Seeing your entire face flush red was really worth it.
“Gross Mom and Dad are flirting!”
___________________________________
- He’ll never once tell you straight if he liked you or was just playing along with the ongoing joke that the chain has.
- This time instead of you observing him. He wants to see how far he can go until confessing.
- It drives you crazy. Since you can’t get a read on him. You attempt to flirt back in retaliation. However, it always ends with you being the most flustered.
- Who knew the Old Man had it in him?
Twilight:
- It became a melancholic hopeless feeling that spiral out of control.
- He already had his heartbroken by someone before and he knows he shouldn’t get attached to you too.
- Yet he can’t stop himself from wanting to be near you. He heard you so clearly before.
- Now that he can actually speak to you directly, he wants to get to know his other travel companion more.
___________________________________
Being alone in the forest with you wasn’t what Twilight planned when dropped in a different Hyrule but here you two where. You offered to go on patrol with him when the others were setting up camp claiming it was too see if you could identify the era. It didn’t matter since Twilight enjoyed your company no matter what. The lack of conversation between the two of you didn’t bother him. If anything, it felt the most natural. Only a few words were needed for the two of you to understand each other. “Do you mind if I use my wolf form?” Twilight asked fiddling with the chain that attached to the shadow crystal around his neck.
You paused to think about it. “I mean you can. But be aware I will baby talk you.”
This got Twilight to stop walking. Maybe he lied. He doesn’t need a few words to understand your thought process. “Excuse me?”
“I can’t control myself around cute creatures.” You simply stated like it was the most obvious thing.
Instead, Twilight was burning up. You thought his wolf form was cute? Of all things you used that word? What did you think of human Twilight if you thought like that? Did he want to even know? He was searching for any way to take this conversation but it all lead to dead ends. “Cute?” Was all he could ask. His voice pitching up as he got flustered.
“Yeah?” You looked at him just as confused as he was. “Wolves are just like big dogs and to be honest you look more like a giant dog then a wolf.” Your explanation did not help at all with his situation. “If it makes you feel better you’re very handsome as a Hylian and also built like an go-“
Twilights brain was malfunctioning he couldn’t hear any more of what you had to say about him. He grabbed on to the shadow crystal, turning into his wolf form he ran. He didn’t hear you call out his name in surprise.
Hylia, what was wrong with him? You were just a friend. A very blunt yet gentle friend. Nothing more. Nothing less. Why was his heart racing so much? He had heard you shower him in complements before while on his first adventure. But hearing you say it to his face with no shame whatsoever was a different story.
Twilight knew what these feelings were and deep down he really wanted to act on them. But was it ok? Was his heart finally healing from his last love? Twilight was already aware this time that you had to leave at some point. He didn’t need to act on them despite wanting to. He could just be your friend and continue the relationship like that.
His heart was already breaking a second time.
Twilight was in love you and it was driving him crazy.
___________________________________
- Like Time, Twilight isn’t going to tell you about his feelings. Instead, he is going to forever pine for you.
- It’s going to be a slow process and you need to be aware that he will get hurt if you’re going to go back home.
- He’ll see you off with a smile, but as soon as your gone he will break.
Warriors:
- It was full of denial and fear.
- He went through the receiving end of someone’s obsessive love.
- And it doesn’t help that you’ve watched over their adventures. He vowed to not get that close to you.
- There was a need to destroy the endearing feeling he sees when you smile at him.
- Yet seeing you with a sad far out look on your face makes him scramble to your side to find out what’s wrong.
___________________________________
It was just the two of you. Weaving throughout the crowds of castle town. You were currently in Four’s Era and in the middle of the Picori festival. The group was long spilt up, leaving Warriors alone with the dimensional traveler. Soon even (Y/n) was walking away from him. He didn’t know why he followed, the argument in his head was telling him that it was so they didn’t get lost. Yet there was a part of him that knew that wasn’t it.
“Where are you going anyway?” He thought to finally ask as you reached a quieter area. “It’s going to be hard to spend time in the festival from here.”
“Yeah, that’s the point.” You were a bit snappy today, “shouldn’t you find someone else to hang out with?” Warriors just shrugged as you slowed your pace down to pause in front of the small river that ran through castle town. The silence now filled with the rushing of water as you sat on the bridge.
Against his better judgement Warriors sat next to you. Finally, he got to talk to you one on one but the normally impulsive and excitable person Warrior’s grew to expect had changed in that moment.
You looked so tired.
“Hey Link?” You finally called out to him “I know I shouldn’t ask you this but…” hesitation was new to your character. “How do I even start?” You rake a hand through your hair. Sweeping a part of your hair out of your eyes. “Was I ever helpful during your Adventure?”
Oh… Oh he really wasn’t the right person for this talk.
You look back you and towards the festival and he followed your gaze. From where they were he could only spot a few of his party members. Wind was with Legend and Hyrule playing some of the stall games. While Four was with his Zelda holding hands as she pulled him further into the crowd. “Last time I saw this festival it ended up destroyed by Vaati.” The wind mage was only brought up a few times by Four. All Warriors really knew was that the villain was supposed to be sealed away by the Four Sword, and that his power was connected by the dark mirror. “I found myself wondering if my presence even mattered.” Your shoulder slumped in defeat as you curled into yourself.
The instant need to comfort shot through Warriors. He wanted to reach out. He fought the urge to hold you. He bites his tongue when he started to think of embellished words to make you feel better.
What was wrong with him?
Warriors had to say something though. “I don’t know about Four or the others.” He didn’t even think about your presence in his adventure too much. If anything, he actively tried not to think about it. Here you were though a person and not a figment of in his imagination. “During the war, your voice and presence is what broke the tension. The moments that could have been my lowest, you were there saying things that I wanted to repeat out loud.” There was a fondness while he was looking back at the memories. From the moment he ran on the battle field foolishly as a trainee soldier. His pride grew upon hearing your praise and surprise when seeing him fight for the first time. To your excitement while meeting his friends from the other Eras. He shared your sentiments about Mask as you cooed over the child as Warriors fought by his side. Then your anger, disgust and pity towards Cia. While on his side, your empathetic nature had you morning during her passing. These where just the tip of the iceberg.
Just having someone voice out mutual thoughts on a situation helps when you can’t do it on your own. You feel crazy thinking the way you do. “With you there it’s like you always have someone by your side cheering you on and supporting you.” He paused to look at you. Conflicting emotions clashing together. You turn to look at him, your eyes only briefly visible through your bangs. Curiosity and guilt were swarming with in them. “I’m not the person to talk to about this.” He finally admitted out loud. “But I would be lying if I said your presence wasn’t important to us.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Was that not what he was supposed to say? Warriors tried to stay calm under your gaze.
You let out a huff of laughter covering your mouth and turning away from him a bit to calm down. “I didn’t think about it like that.” There was a pause where you looked back at the festive before turning back to smiling softly at him. “Thanks Cap.”
The smile that you had on your lips had Warriors stomach do back flips. A blush decorated his face as he turns away. “It’s something that should have been said a while ago.” He manages to say without stuttering.
You were really pretty.
The sound of a picto box followed by winds snickering, was ignored when the thought had just register in his head. He finally realized how far he fell for you.
___________________________________
- one by one his defenses lowered.
- With every smiled sent his way, with every laugh that he earned. He found himself wanting more.
- He slowly opens up, a slow process but it wasn’t as scary as he thought it was going to be.
- A teasing nickname here. A gentle touch there. He realizes he has gone too far.
(Part 2)
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Pillow Forts & Fairy Lights || One-Shot | Hisirdoux Casperan x GN!Reader
Summary: What’s better to relax and celebrate making it through another week of living than a cozy pillow fort, snacks and movies with your favourite person?
Word Count: 1501
Warnings: None!
Taglist: @furblrwurblr @moppetwithamanbun @tales-of-hisirdoux @alovesongshewrote @yagirlcheesely @daydream-believin
Douxie's had a closing shift at the café again and it being a Friday meant he had the weekend free, so you decide to start the weekend off like any not normal normal couple would.
Pulling the cushions off your couch and stacking them up with blankets and bedsheets with chairs holding it all up from the sides, you found that you’d made a pretty stable fort base if you did so say yourself. Next, you pulled out some fairy lights from your room and strung them up around the inside of the fort to the best of your ability. A little bit of tape and some twist ties got you a long way.
The fort itself stretched off the couch and over the floor, your kitchen island bar stools holding up the later.
Once you'd moved into the apartment, your inflow of blankets had come with you, so there never really was a shortage. Douxie had always complained about being cold. You’d sure solved that problem. You used them to build a sort of platform or mat on the floor off the couch on the floor, and on the couch you did the same. It was already beginning to look and feel like a cozy little warm igloo in there. The "top floor" of the fort had a mountain of your favourite blankets, as you had not been willing to sacrifice them to the floor.
You checked the clock and your text messages to see that Douxie was just finishing up closing at work now, which meant you still had a little time before he got home. You clambered out from the opening of the fort and took a step back to admire your handy work. Nodding in satisfaction at its interior and deeming it acceptable and some quick adjustments to fix the exterior to your liking, you set off to the kitchen for your next mission: snacks.
Rifling through the cabinets, you settled on some Doritos and Smartfood, as well as some candy bars and gummies you'd bought earlier. You scooped all the goods into your arms and shuffled back over to the fort, trying your best not to drop anything on the way there. Multiple trips were for suckers.
Was the couch right in front of the tv? Yes. Did that mean you could be in the couch fort while watching said tv? Not particularly.
Having planned this, you pulled out your laptop and strung it's cord through the mass of pillows and blankets to sit on the top level of the fort on the only neatly stacked pile of blankets. Next, you hauled all the snacks that you’d promptly dropped at the entrance to the fort, into the lower level blanket lair and turned off the lights to save them for the grand reveal of your evening plans for when Douxie got home.
Archie made himself comfortable inside, which you didn't mind one bit. He was always good company, so even though you thought it to be like a little date night, you had no problem with sharing the space with the familiar.
You didn't plan to watch any specific movies or show, you just figured you'd both decide together and figure it out later when he got home. You also ended up leaving the drink choices alone for when he got back. You assumed he'd want tea after a long day at work, but you could never be too sure.
It wasn’t much longer until you heard footsteps outside the apartment door and the jingling of keys as Douxie unlocked the door. It wasn't a rare occurrence for him to step into a completely dark apartment. Sometimes you’d fall asleep somewhere while the sun was still out and just hadn't turned any lights on before it set. Other times he'd just find you in your room hunched over your device and lit up by only the glow of your phone or laptop. Once in a while though, he'd find a little glowing orbs of your magic to light the way to your room, where he’d find you reading surrounded by a handful of them. Almost like you sat in a field of oversized fireflies.
He much preferred the last one as it made him worry less about you damaging your eyesight. Not to mention you always looked so peaceful reading there in your magical light, mind in another world as you read the story you held in your hands.
Today however, he was greeted with the first option. Pitch darkness was the only thing to welcome him home. Not even Archie came to greet him. Some friend he was.
Of course the wizard wasn't aware that his familiar was currently snoozing away in a fort hidden by said darkness, but still.
He heard a faint shuffling from somewhere in the living room, followed by your voice welcoming him home and asking him how his day was.
"Sorry for the darkness! I made us a surprise though! C’mere,"
He felt your hand grab his and you pulling him slightly to lead him across the room.
"Just oneee second-!"
There was a bit of a pause and a little more shuffling before little lights sprouted up under the roof of the fort. Their brightness dimmed by the bed sheets made them look like a bunch of glowworms in their living room. The fairy lights illuminated the room just enough for Douxie to be able to make out the fort and the shapes of everything inside it.
"I thought a couch fort-movie night was a good way to celebrate the weekend and making it through another week of customer service."
The glow from the fort now gave enough light for him to make out the grin on your face.
He couldn't help but smile back at the thoughtful gesture, "Thank you love, it's perfect."
"Archie's already in there and made himself at home by the way, hope you don't mind."
You crouched down to crawl through the entrance and into the fort. "You gonna stand out there by yourself all night or what?"
Douxie smiled again as the lights lit up your silhouette under the sheets, just enough for him to see you waving him in.
"Oh wait almost forgot, sorry hold on," You crawled back out, heading for the kitchen to get drinks. "Tea?"
"Sure thing, darling."
You smiled back as you filled the kettle with water and set it to boil. “Oh go on, don’t be shy. Make yourself comfy and I’ll be right over.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” He chuckled lightly, putting his hands up in defense as he crawled into the fort.
You may or may not have magicked your way to boiling water to save time, but soon enough you poured your cups of tea and returned to the fort in the living room. What? Magic may not be a permissible shortcut to hard work, but it wasn’t you who was Merlin’s apprentice after all.
You dropped bags of your favourite tea into travel mugs, just to be safe, and poured in the hot water before bringing them back over to the fort in your living room.
“Do me a favour and hold these for me for a second please?” You stuck your arms into the fort, holding the travel mugs out to Douxie who chuckled and took them from you as you’d asked.
“No problem,” he said.
“Thanksss,” you said, shimmying your way into the fort with various noises of struggle. To which, your wizard simply laughed at in amusement.
“You alright there, love? Having trouble getting into your own fortress?”
“Ha ha, very funny.” You made extra effort to take up as much space as possible once you’d reached him.
Archie protested slightly as you both shuffled around trying to make yourselves comfortable, but eventually settled back down once you'd done the same. As you discussed movie options, you'd eventually settled on a new fantasy release and curled up at Douxie's side. He wrapped an arm around you while you pulled up a blanket and buried yourself further into his chest, making yourself cozy.
Douxie wasn't one for confined spaces, but having you right next to him in a fort you'd made with love for him made him feel much more at peace. You shared the snacks you'd previously brought in while sipping your tea and enjoying the movie together.
The movie however, was rather long. And though it was good, that didn't help keep the two of you awake after a long day of work. You fell asleep in his arms probably just after halfway through the movie, and he fell asleep not long after.
Archie had made his way onto your lap by the time the movie credits rolled around and promptly curled up where he sat, glad that his wizards were home. The three of you stayed like this the rest of the night, in the company of each other and under the cover of bedsheets and artificial stars.
#Douxie#Douxie x reader#hisirdoux casperan#hisirdoux x reader#hisirdoux casperan x reader#Douxie Casperan#Douxie Casperan x reader#douxie x reader thoughts#douxie x y/n#soft#fluff#toa#tales of arcadia#one shot#one shots#imagine#douxie x reader imagine#wizards#trollhunters#3below#trollhunters: tales of arcadia#trollhunters toa#toa trollhunters#toa wizards#toa 3below#3below: tales of arcadia#wizards: tales of arcadia#wizards toa
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Can you maybe write something where the reader meets spencer in prison and when they get out, they meet up and they have really rough and kinky sex like you can literally go as dirty and kinky as you want
Four Feet Apart
🎉150 follower celebration! Day 6
Spencer x fem reader
Content/Trigger Warnings: 18+ Smut, oral female receiving, anal play, blindfold/sensory play, and handcuff/restraint use, protected penetrative sex, mentions of murder, prison
The beginning is a little angst, little fluff, plenty of smut!
“Alright inmates, listen up! There’s been some budget cuts. For the time being, the old west wing building will be taken by overflow from the women’s prison.”
The guard’s voice was overtaken by wolf whistles and hollers.
“That’s enough! Now you will not share a building with them. You will not see them during meals. However the courtyards do share a fence. If you are caught harassing them in any way, you will be punished accordingly!”
The announcement had caught the attention of just about every inmate, except one. Spencer Reid had bigger problems to worry about than women. He didn’t get them outside of prison, so why should he worry about them on the inside. He needed to worry about how to stay safe, stay alive until his name was cleared. That is, until he met you.
_______________________________________
I sat on the bleachers, popping some bubble gum as I searched for some worthwhile eye candy. The sun was a bit hot so I shrugged my button down off my shoulders, opting to tie it around my waist, leaving me in a white tank. This of course leads to many wondering eyes and a few whistles from the men’s side of the fence. I’m not even sure what i’m looking for, but none of the men giving me the time of day have it. I finally notice a slender man sitting on the men’s bleachers, just a few feet away from the fence on his side. I scoot up , slipping my fingers through the women’s chain-link side. Of course I could never touch any of them, with each side having about four feet between their respective fences. But there were no rules against looking or talking even.
“Hey. Think too hard and you’re gonna mess up that pretty face of yours.”
He looks up a bit startled, but his posture changes once his gaze lands on me. He almost looks shy, which seems in direct contrast to his rugged look. But once I look in his eyes, I see depth and warmth and kindness that belongs far away from this place, and it hurts me for a moment, to think of what will happen to him here.
“I don’t bite. The name is Y/L/N. Got in for killing my ex husband. How about you?”
He blinked, speechless at first.
“Doc- I’m uh, Spencer Reid. They think I killed someone too…”
“Well, didn’t you?”
He shook his head. Based on the look in his eyes, I want to believe him I really do.
“Did you know that incarceration of women has been growing at twice the rate of men’s incarceration?”
“Now how in the world would you know that?”
He simply shrugged.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. Just looked like you could use some company is all.”
He looked like he wanted to respond, he really did. But before he got the chance, the women were called back inside.
I give a quick salute. “Nice meetin ya Spencer Reid. See ya when I see ya.”
___________________________________________
The next time I saw him he looked different. Scared, fragile, and a bit bloodied up.
“Hey- what uh- I mean, are you okay?”
He refused to look up or give much of an answer. But he was sitting in the same spot, close enough for us to have another conversation so I have to believe he wanted to talk again.
“I’m guessing you’re relatively new. It happened to me too ya know. Especially when I wouldn’t just go along with everything they asked.”
That drew his attention, and I could see tears in his eyes.
“You can’t let them see they get to you, that you’re scared. I learned that long before I got here though. That’s why I killed him ya know- he hurt me and I couldn’t just take it anymore. Police wouldn’t listen. I just wanted it to stop.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I shrugged it off. I’m paying my time but I’m safer in here than I ever felt with him.”
“Can you keep a secret?”
Now he has my attention. I nod, trying not to seem too excited to be sharing schoolyard secrets with the handsome stranger.
“I uh, was in the FBI. I was framed by a, well you can almost call her an arch nemesis of sorts.” He laughed to himself. It was a warm sort of laugh that filled me with butterflies. “I was just trying to get medicine for my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and schizophrenia. She was getting worse and I-“ his words are quickly cut off by the sounds of sniffles.
“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t mean it to be rude, but I had to know.
“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people and- you’re not a bad person. I trust you.”
In that moment, our eyes met again, but something new was there. Desire? Lust? Caring? Who knows. But that was the start of something. Of daily meetings, and quiet longing.
Day after day we would sit by our fences, sharing stories of our lives before prison. I learned that he was kind, hard-working, and actually quite funny. Spencer Reid was the best company I’d had in years, and not just within the prison walls.
He also told me about the rough time of it he was having on his own side. I gave him pointers where I could. How to get in with the right people, how to avoid the wrong ones, and how to get himself safe when necessary.
At one point, the politics on his side did endanger his life, and that’s when we came up with the plan together. A plan that would help take down the very man targeting him while getting Spencer somewhere safe for now. This meant I wouldn’t see him while he was in solitary, but we both knew it was necessary.
We never spoke about exactly what it was we wanted but- it was there. We devoured one another with our eyes. Biting and licking lips, drawn out breaths, and lingering gazes. We knew.
I watched him change overtime. His hair and beard grew yes, but so did this darkness in his eyes. The soft, Bambi-eyed boy was seemingly gone, replaced by a man who needed to hurt someone, anyone. And oh was I ready to let him hurt me.
I waited by the fence each day for his return, but it never came. I finally decided to ask around until I heard something that thrilled me but also left a huge gaping hole in me.
“He left.”
I couldn’t be happier for him. Had they cleared his name? From the sound of it, federal agents, friends of his had come to retrieve him. I could only hope that he was safe and happy.
Then one day I received a letter.
Dear Y/N,
I miss you. Just you. You made my time there worthwhile, worth missing. There’s so much more I wanted to say to you, and a letter just won’t do it justice. I have a feeling you’ll be out on parole sooner than you think. Come find me when you can. I’ll be in D.C..
Counting the days,
Spencer
____________________________________________
Parole? I had at least another year before that could even be a consideration. But I started counting too, which didn’t last long. Imagine my surprise when I got out on parole only two weeks after receiving the letter.
Did he- no he couldn’t, could he? Spencer had been gone for months. Clearly he had cleared his name, thank goodness. I knew I needed to see him as soon as possible.
I couldn’t leave the state, but luckily I didn’t need to. With what little I had, I made my way to D.C.. I figured I’d start out at the return address on the envelope, the one I clung to like my life depended on it.
With a bag slung over my shoulder, I raised my hand with the letter to hesitantly knock on the door, completely unsure of what to expect on the other side.
My mouth fell open at the sight before me. Spencer Reid in a cardigan, a tie? I had never seen him outside the prison. He looked so put together. And all I could think about was how much I wanted to tear him apart. I did my best to suppress my lust in hopes of a civil and normal greeting.
I don’t know what I expected. Tears, hugs maybe? We stood there staring at each other for who knows how long before I finally spoke. I’d had a well rehearsed speech in my head. One I’d had two whole weeks to work on since he sent the letter. But that all went out the window the second I saw his face again.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
Who was I kidding? We could see it in eachother’s eyes, the same desire from before, but stronger somehow. Maybe because it was quite literally within reach. Months of daydreaming about what it would feel like to touch him, kiss him, get absolutely railed by him.
The man I had met initially was so gentle, timid. I watched him change in that prison. I had initially imagined ruining him, breaking him for my own pleasure. By the time he left I wanted something completely different. I wanted him to do the breaking. I wanted him to use me for his own personal pleasure. And he knew it.
He grabbed my face to pull me in for an all consuming kiss that quite literally took my breath away. I had to pull back, gasping for air before I could get any words out.
“Missed you too.” I smiled.
“Can we take this to my bedroom?” The words came out rushed, as though he might die if he couldn’t have me in that very moment.
I give an enthusiastic nod. A small squeal and uncharacteristic giggle leaves my lips as he scoops me up in his arms, whisking me away to his bedroom.
“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he pants, frantically removing his clothes. “Can you get undressed and lay down on your stomach for me?”
I follow his orders without question. He leans down by my ear and asks one question. “Safe word?”
“Cherry blossom.”
“Anything off limits?”
I don’t even have to think. “No, I trust you.”
Next thing I know I feel soft silk over my eyes as he ties a blindfold in place. This allows me to focus on the sounds of whatever else he is preparing. I hear a distinctly familiar jingle of metal, which is confirmed as it touches the skin of my wrists. Handcuffs. I wiggle my hips in delight, which earns me a playful spank.
“Like what you see?”
“I definitely can’t complain.” I can almost hear his smirk.
His fingers dig into my hips before pulling them up in the air. I feel cold air hit my core immediately.
“Fucking beautiful.”
Without any warning I feel a finger coated in cool lubricant coating my other opening.
“Try and relax for me, beautiful.” His fingers run through some of my hair, dragging across the skin of my back and I feel my muscles immediately follow his command. I attempt to mentally and physically prepare for whatever could be coming next.
I feel him work in what feels to be a decent sized anal plug. I’ve tried them before but only by myself. I’m already enjoying the added stimulation. My hips jolt when he suddenly brings his head down to lick up through my slit and I can’t help but yell.
“Fuck!”
“Mmm you like that, dirty girl? You’re quite literally dripping for me.”
He says it so calmly, I can hardly wrap my head around how smooth he’s being.
“Yes sir, please!” I beg.
“Please what, hmmm? What do you need?”
“Need you to eat my pussy please sir!”
Damn I sound absolutely pathetic. To think I ever considered myself a feminist. So much for my leg up on domineering men. Here I am willingly let one take me, have me anyway he wants. And that’s just the way I want it too. For Spencer Reid, I would be anything he needed.
“Good girl.” The two words have me writhing in pleasure with the combined sensation of his tongue back on the place I need it most. He sucks and laps at me like I'm his favorite dessert . He reads my body like a book, every movement and moan. He knows just what I need, when to let up, when to push harder. It’s unfair just how talented his mouth is.
And then, I’m coming undone on that beautiful mouth of his. Too bad I can’t see it. But oh it’s all I can imagine as waves of pleasure wreck my body and he’s running his fingers down my back, squeezing my ass as he gets in his final victory licks.
There’s a distinct sound of a condom wrapper, and I appreciate the consideration. I feel him sit on the bed next to me, against the headboard perhaps?
“Come sit on my lap.” His voice is dark and commanding, and my body is already responding with a fresh dose of arousal.
“But I can’t see sir.”
“No excuses. Come sit on my lap or you won’t get to come again.”
Not only can I not see, but my hands are still handcuffed behind my back. Not to mention my knees are weak from my most recent orgasm. This oughta be interesting. I try to scoot on my knees towards where I had heard his voice, only to lose my balance once I bump into his legs. I fall face first into his lap. Not the worst position to be in. I hear a soft, dark chuckle above me.
“Poor pathetic thing, are you already too weak? Can you handle another one?”
I swear, I never knew I was into degradation and humiliation. I don’t even know if I truly am, it's just something about him, about Spencer, that turns me on with everything he does.
“Yes sir, please! Please I can handle it! Let me try!”
I feel his fingers grasp my jaw, pulling my face up till I’m sitting on my knees again. I can feel his breath on my face and I wish I could just lean in and feel his lips on mine. My wish is granted for just a second. I feel his plush lips brush against mine, but they’re gone just as quick.
“Pretty thing. Let me help you, hmm.”
His long fingers wrap around my hips and guide me till I’m sitting in his lap, one leg on either side.
“Do you think you can ride me without your hands for balance?
“Yes sir!” I nod with an embarrassing eagerness.
“Show me, baby.”
I raise up and with his guidance again, lower myself until he’s making sure my other hole is filled as well.
Each bounce against his lap is adding pressure against the plug, combined with the bump of his cock against my cervix. With no sight, I’m so in tune with every sensation, especially the way his fingers feel roaming every inch of my body. He’s pinch my nipples, grabbing my ass, tugging at my hair. I may have been the one begging but he was clearly just as desperate.
When he decided he needs more, Spencer grabs my hips and starts thrusting up into me at a completely
ridiculous pace.
“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock. See for yourself, little girl.”
Before I have time to realize what he means, his beautiful fingers are ripping the silk away from my eyes, only to be met with absolutely heavenly eyes. They’re golden, warm, filled with lust but also something kinder. They devour my body like I’m his goddess. I absolutely love watching him enjoy the view. He licks his lips hungrily as he watches my breasts bounce and the way he looks sliding in and out of me.
Spencer pulls me in so he can leave a trail of kisses along my shoulders and neck. I love the way my face feels buried in his soft curls, he smells of lavender shampoo and it’s intoxicating. When he pulls back he’s got a knowing smirk on his face.
“What?”
In seemingly one move, I’m off his lap, on my back, with my hands pinned over my head.
“But the hand cuffs? How did you-“
Instead of answering he silenced me with an all consuming kiss. We’re biting, sucking, moaning, on one another like animals in heat. I can’t help but feel sorry for his poor neighbors.
He keeps my hands pinned above my head while realigning himself ready to pick back up where he left off. Before I can even register what’s happening he’s pounding into me like it’s his fucking job.
“You feel that? You feel how perfectly I fill you up? So pretty with my cock in you. Fuck- you take it so well!”
Words are gone from my mind. I’m left with moans, tears, and one name. Spencer.
“Spencer!”
He lets go of my arms and they instinctively wrap around his neck as I use my legs around his hips bringing him close.
“I’ve got you pretty girl. I’m here. Be a good little thing and come for me. Come on.”
I’m wrecked, shaking and moaning, unsure if I’ll ever be able to stop. He’s right there with me, filling me up in the best way. The pleasure is intensified by the extra pressure from the plug. I cling to him for dear life as I ride off my high, enjoying the way he looks above me. He’s angelic with the light sheen of sweat causing his skin to glisten in the low lighting, the natural sparkle of his eyes, the way his curls fall in his face, the pretty pink lips softly parted as he pants.
He’s dominant but also so soft and kind with me. It's clear tonight he cared about my pleasure just as much as his own. Maybe I don’t ever have to let him go. Maybe we can just stay here, twisted up in one another, blissfully unaware of all our troubles and the world around us.
I’m embarrassed at how much I whine as he gets off of me and slips away into the bathroom. I don’t know why I was surprised when he returns with a warm washcloth and lotion. He’s cleaning me up, tending to my wrists and any other spots sore from friction, and removing the plug. All the while he’s littering my skin with gentle kisses, all along my back and shoulders, my hips, my chest, my face. I’ve never been so pampered.
“Are you okay?” His voice is sweet and smooth like honey, leaving me tingling in the wake of its sweetness.
“Never better.” I leave kisses across his knuckles and he gives me that look again, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
After some convincing, I get up to use the bathroom, returning to a very sweet looking boy waiting for me under the covers, looking up with puppy dog eyes. I see the man I first met in the courtyard months ago. The one that stole my heart. I slip into the spot next to him, and we tangle back together, skin against skin. It’s so warm, soft, inviting and I think I’ll stay forever.
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Blurb req- Tom and the reader on a private jet hungover? just pure fluff?
fluffy requests are well and truly open ( bcos I adored writing this ahah) and let me know what u think , I am deff not a writer so any feedback or tips would be v appreciated :))
summary: tomhollandxactress!reader - a wrap party followed by an early morning flight and a grumpy Harry, what could possibly go wrong?
warning: mentions of alcohol and sickness
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The remorse. The regret. It only made the pounding in your head even worse. Why those two 1.5 litre bottle of Bacardi had been brought out was beyond you. Why the you six of you had then decided to empty said bottle was even more of a mystery. It wasn’t like any of you had needed it, you’d all been more than ‘merry’ prior to the cheap rum and coke.
Hence the state of you, Tom and Harry as well as your manager Davey and Tom’s team of Rachel and Andrew. All having made very little effort with your appearance - joggers and hoodies all round, with you and Rachel also sporting sunglasses because you were simply smarter than the boys. Thankfully, this wasn’t a big trip that fans knew about, this was you and Tom moving location under cover - the studios didnt want anybody to know that either of you made a feature in this film, so everything was under the cover of darkness. Which to be honest you were not complaining about. However, you were complaining about the fact the flight had been scheduled to leave at 7 am the night after your wrap party though.
The two of you had just wrapped your most recent and most ambitious movie to date - hence the massive celebrations last night for just surviving and getting it done. It had been the most intense 3 months of your life, there had been times you’d cry for hours on end, times you just wanted to quit fully knowing you’d never be hired again for leaving a multimillion dollar company in the lurch.But you all, somehow, had survived. So celebrations were in order of course but perhaps not as far as you all managed last night?
Your whole convey appeared to have travelled to the airfield in absolute silence, no one particularly fancied hearing anyone else’s voice- which to be honest seemed quite fair. You’d ridden in a car with Tom and Harry, with you resting your head on Tom’s broad shoulder - which had obviously made Harry gag, rolling his eyes. Bless Harry, really he was the only reason you and Tom had got together, after getting sick of the mutual pining he’d been forced to live with during the previous 2 projects you’d worked on together. But now, having had to put up with the two of you being so ridiculously loved up for the past 3 months - understandably a bit of distance from you and his brother was overdue.
One of the flight attendants busied themselves loading your luggage, whilst the pilot asked you and Tom for a photo. Of course, you weren’t going to say no however you did have to cringe at how rough you both looked. His teenage daughter certainly would be less excited to see that her Dad hadn’t met Tom Holland and Y/n Y/l/n. Instead he’d met the zombified, undead and rougher frauds. Still you smiled as much as you could, wincing when you removed the glasses and the early morning sun pierced your restricted pupils. God it wasn’t your day.
The guy didn’t seem to mind though, excitedly hurrying off onto the plane to settle in the rest of you - leaving just you and Tom outside on the tarmac.
“Poor guy, we look like shit.” You murmured while taking a step closer to lean slightly into his side.
“Speak for yourself love.’Tom snickered into the top of your head, after pulling you completely into his chest. This wasn’t normally allowed, your relationship still wasn’t public and both of you intended on keeping it private for as long as possible. But you were in an otherwise empty field in the middle of nowhere (somewhere in Georgia) before 8 am. It was actually quite nice to feel your boyfriends arms round you in the outside world, especially when you felt this shit. After a few moments you pulled away, arching back at Tom’s pouty face as you motioned it was time to get on the plane.
“’S too late you know.” Your brows furrowed at his half formed sentence, facial expression only demanding him to explain more. “They all have already taken the good seats… Harry basically sprinted on so he can hog the bed thing.” In response it was your turn to pout, groaning as you fell back into his chest again. Yes, this was a complete first world issue, a private jet paid completely by your bosses was not something a lot would moan about. Truly you were grateful for everything you had in life, but with the worst hangover of your life when the opportunity of lying down for 6 hours instead of being stuck in a chair had manifested itself… well of course you felt robbed by your almost brother Harry.
Chuckling at your reaction, he gave you an extra squeeze before leading the both of you up the stairs to the cabin. Sure enough Harry had completely and totally claimed the longer couch at the far end of the plane, lying on his stomach with his face hidden in the crook of his elbow. Rolling your eyes at the predictable situation, you didn’t miss Davey laughing at your sorry state - nmaking you throw daggers at him in your eyes.
Davey was your second father, the relationship between the two of you far transcended any professional working one. Which is why the two of you acting like this was very much a norm and not rude at all. He had also got the next best seat in the corner with the most leg room which he clearly loved to show off.
Unsurprisingly then you and Tom ended up squashed into the corner with your legs crumpled up together in the small space floor space. The brunette opposite you didn’t seem to mind so much but that was because he had an adaptational advantage. He could sleep anywhere and everywhere , whenever he wanted. On set if he was tired? Just take a ten minute power nap on the floor. Bored of a long car journey? Just conk out against the window. It absolutely infuriated you, as no matter how hard and how exhausted you were - it was rare you could get any further than a light doze. Even before the two go you got together, having a best mate that could skip all the boring bits and was immune to jet lag… you can see how that makes you want to punch him square in the face.
After a short safety talk from the pilot and flight attendant, the plane whirred into life and you were up in the air. Although in your current state, it would be reasonable to assume the beauty of flying had somewhat rubbed off - you were certain it never would. No matter how many flights you took across country ,and in fact continents, for work; you’d never get sick of watching the view below you. It was perfect and breathtaking and took your mind off the pounding in the back of your head for the first 20 minutes.
Until the need for sleep took over as either you need to be unconcious or you were going to vomit - which you really didn’t want to do at 40,000 feet in a tin box. Trying to rearrange your limbs to get comfier you accidentally knocked Tom’s leg rather forcefully, causing him to jump half out his seat, heavy eyes blinking quickly as he tried to get his baring as to what was attacking him - quickly answered by your guilty look.
“You okay love?” His voice was slurred, sounding almost sleep drunk - but perhaps was just actually still a little drunk. You’d only headed to bead last night at 4 am and had to be up at 6 - which isnt very long for your poor kidneys to try and process the stupid amount of alcohol you’d both happily been chugging the night before.
“Feel shitty and cant sleep.” You weren’t in the mood to white lie - honestly some sympathy from your beautiful boyfriend seemed like a dream at the moment. Tom’s idea was better though.
“C’mere then.” His arms outstretched, you immediately jumped into his lap - the two of you shifting about to get comfortable till you were sat side on to him, your bum and back leaning against the arm rest of the chair with your legs going over his thighs and pressing against the wall of the plane. Pulling you closer to his chest, Tom took a deep breath as he pressed his chin against the crown of your head; your face now nested into his chest.
Nothing needed to be said as the two of you melted into each others bodies, the slow and deepening breathing enough to prove to each other you were both incredibly contented in that moment. More than that you felt safe- you’d admitted to Tom some weeks ago that you had never ever slept better than when he was beside you. Yeh it was cringey but sometimes that’s allowed right?
… well not to Harry. Because as the plane was about to begin it’s descent, the pilot had tasked Harry (who had slept off the worst of the hangover and had spent the last 30 minutes of the flight scoffing at how adorable the two of you looked fast asleep together) - even after Rach had scalded him and had taken a photo of the two of you on her phone.
Causing Harry to ,ever subtly, wake the two of you up by throwing his half empty water bottle over your heads.
Safe to say, Harry very nearly didn’t leave that jet alive.
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Misread Details, Part One
CW: Death talk, BBU, dehumanizing language about Box Boys
A Box Boy Serial Killer On the Loose? Part 1 of 3
r/LetsTalkTrueCrime
•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 1 month ago
Hello, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime!
I’ve posted this write-up in a couple other reddits, but someone pointed me to this one as being a good place for discussion, and this is a really weird set of three unsolved murders (well, one death and two murders? Maybe?) and I wanted to see if any of you have some thoughts or maybe more info on these cases.
Three men died within two years in three different cities.
While each death is unique, all of them have one thing in common - fingerprints and DNA from a single human pet was found in every single location.
Let’s start with the first death.
Nathaniel Matthew Benson, who went by “Nanda” (a childhood nickname given to him by a younger brother who couldn’t pronounce his full name as a toddler, apparently), was forty-one years old at the time of his death.
He was born and raised in North Dakota by very strict religious parents, and had three younger brothers and one younger sister. There is some disagreement here about whether his home life was peaceful or not. His younger sister claims that the environment at home was strict but fair, and the family was mostly happy. Two of his three younger brothers tell a different story, about a father who put too much on their shoulders, especially “Nanda” as the eldest, and the pressure they felt to be perfect.
His other brother, the youngest of the family, has never given a public interview beyond a short statement that he and Nanda were not close, and he did not feel able to speak about his character. There were nearly fifteen years between the oldest and youngest childrens’ births, and Nathaniel had moved out of the house by the time the youngest was four years old, so this makes sense.
By all accounts, Nathaniel was an excellent student, getting all A’s throughout his years of education. He was considered quiet and shy, and most of his high school classmates don’t have many standout memories of him. He graduated valedictorian of his high school class, then surprised everyone by stating he wouldn’t be attending college, and instead would be taking a “gap year” to travel the United States using money from his graduation party and also some he’d saved up from working part-time retail and restaurant jobs.
Between ages 18 and 19, he took his small secondhand four-door vehicle around the nation, calling home every week or so to give his family updates, sending postcards, etc. After about six months, though, the phone calls and postcards became fewer and fewer, and eventually he told everyone he had gotten a new job and decided to forgo college entirely.
His family was shocked - and by all accounts his father was furious - but Nathaniel refused to budge.
There was apparently a very hostile phone conversation about one year after this decision which was the last time Nathaniel Benson spoke to his father directly until his death.
After this, his family received only sporadic communications sent from a P.O. Box located in central California, in a mid-sized city known as Dosaba. He never did give anyone an actual home address.
He occasionally called them, mostly his sister and one of his brothers, but surviving family states that the phone number he called from was different every single time, and usually didn’t have a California area code.
“He used burner phones for everything,” Nathaniel’s sister Samantha told WNDR, a local news station, shortly after his mysterious death. “And he would never tell us what job he did. We asked and asked and Nanda would just say ‘oh, this and that’, or ‘I do contractor work’. Just answers that don’t tell you anything. It was all very mysterious, very secretive. You know, we talked about how maybe he’d gotten into drugs or something, but my brother wasn’t a drug user, ever. It just seems so out of character for the brother I knew.”
“He was always reading his Bible when we knew him,” Younger brother Timothy stated. “But you know, I asked him once if he had found a home church wherever he was living, and he laughed and laughed. Then he just said, ‘they’d have a lot of opinions on how I live my life if I did that’, and changed the subject. So I knew whatever he was doing, it probably wasn’t good.”
There has been a lot of speculation by investigators that “Nanda” had indeed picked up employment within some kind of drug smuggling group at this time. Evidence found after his death has even opened the possibility that he worked as a high-end hitman.
There’s a lot of international travel during this time period, far more than can be accounted for unless travel was part of his workplace responsibilities. Employment records show him working as a sales manager for a company called Sunrise Investments, but this is believed by many to be a shell corporation hiding something much, much darker.
However, all of this remains speculative, and there’s never been any proof that Nathaniel Benson did anything but the financial sales the company claims. No one ever did much work with him, and other employees at the company stated contact with him occurred entirely by phone and fax (and then e-mail) at this time.
When investigators pored over the documents after getting a warrant, they weren’t able to find anything suspicious - and that in and of itself seems suspicious to some.
For years, Benson seemed to simply drop off the map entirely when it comes to local information - investigators did find that he owned a vintage Corvette that he fixed up himself (found via vehicle registry and taxes listings, which is public knowledge), and that about two years before his death he bought a large five-bedroom house with a basement in Dosaba, which he renovated in total secrecy. I was able to find records of him paying home taxes through his mortgage company, and that he spoke to local contractors and building companies, paying for consultations about the renovations he undertook.
None of the companies he spoke to kept any kind of detailed notes about these consultations, but you’ll see why it’s relevant when I discuss what was found after his death.
Nathaniel Benson’s life came to an abrupt end on August 16th, 20XX, but nobody would find his body for more than two days.
On August 18th, his cleaning lady arrived for her usual weekly visit to discover him crumpled at the foot of the stairs, face-up. She called 911 immediately and first responders arrived within twenty minutes to her white-faced and nearly silent.
First responders noted that Nathaniel’s eyes were closed, unusual for a violent death. A wet cloth had been laid over them to help them stay that way. The medical examiner stated later that this would have to have been done within the first hour after he died, before rigor mortis could stiffen muscles and lead to them opening again.
That whoever witnessed his death knew to do this is deeply unusual, and may be a sign of affection or grief.
The autopsy found that Nathaniel had met his end approximately 36 hours before he was found, and had died due to an undiagnosed heart defect that had resulted in cardiac arrest.
Sounds like any sudden death that can simply be written off as sad but natural, right? Well, there’s a few details that make things a little murkier than that, and have led to his death being listed as “undetermined” officially, and possibly including foul play.
For one thing, Nathaniel hadn’t simply collapsed next to the stairs - he had fallen, or been pushed, and showed evidence of bone fractures and head trauma consistent with the fall. A bit of blood was found on one step that came from his injuries. This head trauma would likely not have been fatal if he had received medical attention, but cardiac arrest ensured death even if head trauma didn’t.
Did Nathaniel Benson suffer a heart attack and fall down the stairs, dying only when he reached the bottom? Maybe.
Or maybe he really was pushed, the shock of it is the reason he went into cardiac arrest.
There’s one more unusual fact that makes foul play a possibility in this mysterious death.
Nathaniel Benson owned a legally purchased Box Boy, no known legal name, who went by his original purchase number: 334235. The Box Boy was a Romantic designation, and was purchased from Facility 001 in Berras, a city in Southern California, where the WRU headquarters is located.
WRU, when contacted by investigators, easily agreed to meet and provide detectives with information regarding the Box Boy’s purchase, as well as the DNA and fingerprint samples the company keeps on file.
According to WRU’s internal records, this Boxie was not only a designated Romantic, but a specialty Romantic, trained for ‘masochism’. This tracks with multiple books on, shall we say, somewhat salacious interests that Benson had for his love life.
As Benson never seemed to date anyone or maintain a relationship, it’s theorized that the Boxie was his way of dealing with the stress of his work. WRU noted that Benson had contacted them after the purchase was complete to give his compliments on the Boxie’s training and note that he was ‘perfect’ and they ‘got along just fine’.
The Box Boy’s fingerprints were found all over the house, which is totally normal. He was living there full-time, after all. But investigators also located something a bit more unusual: a secret room within the home that the cleaning lady had never seen before, hidden behind a carefully camouflaged door.
This is what Benson had been working on when he ‘renovated’ his newly purchased home: He built a secret dungeon room with stone walls and a concrete floor, outfitted with a dip and a “drain”, plus a garden hose hooked up on one wall.
The room also had rows upon rows of cabinets full of various tools consistent with a ‘hard BDSM lifestyle’, according to one detective. I wasn’t able to get ahold of the actual list of items found, but was able to determine that whips, knives, ‘unspecified implements purchased from adult stores’, and other things were found.
Tests done on the walls and floor showed that blood had been spilled nearly everywhere in the room at one time or another, and large amounts of it. There was also evidence of blood found in Nathaniel Benson’s bedroom, primarily on the floor and in the bed. A small faded stain was found on the headboard just below a set of cuffs hooked into it.
A few small dried bloodstains were also found around the master bathroom sink, and investigators were able to determine the blood matched the DNA of the Box Boy, and was left there much more recently than the rest of the blood in the house, possibly even on the day of Benson’s death.
Here’s the thing, though: the Box Boy himself was nowhere to be found.
Was this Box Boy tired of being used as a human pincushion? Did he take matters into his own hands and commit the ultimate crime a pet can do, killing his owner? If he did, he no doubt knew what happens to pets who kill their owners, usually either being ‘put down’ or wiped clean to be resold.
Is our Boxie a killer right from the start? Or was he only a witness to a natural death who panicked and ran away?
Without locating the Boxie himself, it’s impossible to know.
The cleaning lady remembered him, and gave a description: Somewhere between 5’8” and 5’11”, wiry but with some muscle, usually dressed in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt when she was in the house. He has short dark hair, brown eyes, and an angular face. She mentioned visible scars on his arms, but none on his face. She was told to call him only “pet” if she needed to speak to him. She stated his voice was slightly hoarse and rough, as if he had a sore throat all the time.
They had only one significant interaction, where the cleaning lady inquired about a large bruise on the Boxie’s face and bandages on his arms. He apparently told her, at the time, that he ‘liked the reminer’, but thanked her for asking after his health. They never spoke directly again.
The detail about his face being unscarred will become incredibly relevant in parts 2 and 3.
Neighbors, when asked, mentioned that they had seen someone matching that description walking away from the house somewhere around 4 and 5 pm on August 16th. The medical examiner believes Benson died around noon, so this leaves about four or five hours between the death and the Boxie leaving.
He appeared to be walking very quickly and one neighbor noticed he was holding what looked like crumpled cash in one hand and a plastic shopping bag in another.
He was spotted waiting at a nearby bus stop, and footage from a camera mounted inside the bus shows someone matching the Box Boy’s description riding the bus all the way into Dosaba’s historic, artsy downtown. There, he was again captured on CCTV purchasing a one-way train ticket with cash. The train station employee who sold him the ticket remembers offering him a round-trip ticket for a discount, which she always did anyone who asked for a ticket to another city, only to have him “nervously” say he wouldn’t need to come back. She mentioned that he scratched at the side of his neck, and that when he walked away, he looked like his shoes were a little too big for his feet.
It is believed, as Nathaniel Benson was found barefoot but wearing clothing that suggested he had been outside doing yard work just before his death, that the Box Boy stole his shoes.
The fleeing Box Boy is captured one more time on camera as he arrived at his destination, Red Hills, approximately a two-hour train ride to the south. He walks past the CCTV quickly, hunched over as if trying to hide his face.
After that, he disappears.
Red Hills is a significantly larger city than Dosaba, with nearly a million residents within city limits and another 600,000 filling its suburbs and outer neighborhoods. Red Hills is a city that has seen better days, and it would be easy for a runaway Box Boy to simply fade away into its seedier districts. While Red Hills has had more than a dozen runaway Boxies picked up over the years, mostly Romantics who engaged in prostitution to make ends meet, it’s not believed that Benson’s Box Boy knew this when he chose the location.
As Romantic Boxies usually can’t read, it’s believed he simply chose a location he’d overheard someone else say, knowing nothing about what he would find when he got there.
Two days after his death, Nathaniel Benson’s debit and credit cards, Driver’s License, and a folded-up note he had written to himself about buying toothpaste were found in a plastic shopping bag tied-off at the top, were found inside the bus the Boxie had ridden, stuffed between the edge of a seat and the wall. The Boxie’s fingerprints were on everything.
But the Boxie himself wouldn’t be seen again until more than a year later.
Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson’s death for a time remained a one-off unsolved mystery. A little on the unusual side, but entirely possible that no foul play occurred, just some details that need filling in.
The shocking murder of a Red Hills man known locally as “Brute” would bring this Box Boy back into law enforcement’s line of sight, and open up questions about whether the Box Boy had simply been running away from Nathaniel Benson’s death… or leaving to find a new victim.
I’ll post Part 2, about “Brute”, shortly! Then Part 3 will be about a third murder, in which our potential Box Boy serial killer takes out… another serial killer.
I told you this one gets interesting.
-
@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @endless-whump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary
#whump#jameson bb#epistolary#epistolary fiction#original fiction#murder tw#sorta#maybe#whumper death#escaped whumpee#runaway whumpee#bbu#box boy#box boy universe#pet whump#dehumanization tw#jameson's masochism#a brief mention but still#bruises tw#blood tw#horror fiction#crime fiction
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