Sorry I Havent Posted, I Moved Houses And Have No Wifi And I Use Docs On My Laptop To Write, I Only Have

First choice : Jason Todd x fem!reader

Summary: you don;t know what you have until it's (almost) gone.

A/N: this is lightly based on one particular scene from "little women". If you watched it, you'll know.

Warnings: usual Jason ones - swearing and a bit of angst. Apart from that fluff.

***

„Don’t leave with him.”

„I’m sorry?”

“Don’t. Leave. With. him.”

“And why exactly shouldn’t I?” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, putting down the t-shirt she was folding before packing it into the suitcase. She was supposed to leave Gotham. Most probably – for good.

And she was not doing this alone.

She was about to go with Tom, the guy she met a couple months ago at work. At first, there was nothing but friendly feeling between them, but he clearly wanted more. So once he got a promotion and was posted to the branch of the company, he went as far as asking the CEO to second Y/N with him. And that got the girl slowly falling for Tom as well and convinced her to give him a chance. Since then, they have been on a couple dates and shared some innocent kisses but this acquaintance was promising. Finally Y/N found someone who would treat her right, who would give her peace, unlike the bats. Of course she loved all the Waynes , but it was a nervous lifestyle and it was slowly taking toll on her health.  

And that’s how Y/N ended up picking up her clothes, getting ready to take off and leave everyone and everything behind.

Leaving Jason.

“Why Jace?” she repeated scanning his face “Tom likes me and I like him. Maybe we can work things out between us. Shit, I hope we work things out, cause he might be my only chance for getting in a good relationship.”

“That is bullshit!” Jason exclaimed “You know that! That fucker is doing nothing more than encircling you like a prey! You mean nothing to him.”

“How dare you?!” she took a few steps towards him raising hand, almost slapping him across the face but stopping in the last second. “Nah.” Her eyes flashed “that’s what you want, isn’t it? You play your games, you want to mess with my head. Well, it’s not gonna work.”

“You’re gonna die out of boredom with him.  He doesn’t know a single thing about you. For your last birthday he bought you a ticket to the rap show! You hate rap! And one time he took to the restaurant with sea food, which you are allergic to! He’s ordinary! And you know you need thrill! You need night actions! You need working with Babs, with bats, with Red. That’s who you are. ” Before she could move away he grabbed her wrist in an iron clad  grip. “

“Let go of me.” She hissed warningly

“No.”

“I said…. Let. Go. Of. Me.”

“And I said no.” their eyes met and this war of nerves and tensed gazes made them both shiver. It was like a lightning between them. The question was, who was going to give in first. “I can’t do that……” he whispered

“Why?!” she cried out “Why are you trying to destroy my only chance for happiness?!”

“Your …. Only chance? Fuck! Y/N are you serious!?”

“YES! For God’s sake, you do nothing but cause havoc! It’s been like that for our whole life!” she yanked free of his hold and moved a few steps back.

“You deserve someone better!”

“Huh. Really? Someone like you, Jason? Someone who will give my heart attacks every night? Someone who will make me worried and creating scenarios of getting hurt, injured, captured or killed? Someone who will ignore me, cut me out, won’t talk to me, keep me in the dark?”

“Princess.”

“Stop calling me that….” She sobbed and started punching his chest. “Why can’t you just let go?”

“You know why….”

“You are being mean. This is not fair!”

“How am I  being unfair here?!” he shouted “ME? How can you even say that? I’ve spend half of my life loving you and yet, I’ve always been a second choice for you! How do you think that feels?!”

“What…..? But….?” She stuttered but now he was on the roll.

“Let me remind you. You were 20 when the first guy broke your heart and …..”

“You broke my heart first!”

“What…..?” now it was his turn to stutter

“I cried at your funeral, Jason! I mourned you after you got buried! I was in deep depression for months. Don’t you think that leaves a scar?!”

“But I came back. I came back to you!”

“It doesn’t mean anything!  It’s in the past. It’s too late. And don’t say you care, cause you are just acting selfish, as always.”

‘No. No princess. This is not how this Is gonna go. If you need a memory refresher, here we go. When your first boyfriend broke your heart, who was it that hold you, hugged you and did not let go for the whole night you were crying on the couch? Who was there for you? Say it!”

“You were.”

“Yes. And then the next day you were just acting like nothing happened. You run back to him the second he called to apologize. Don’t you think that hurt me?”

“Jace….”

“And every other time when you were broken, scared, worried, shaking in fear or pain who was there for you? Who picked up the pieces? And even then you were always looking up to Dick! My freaking brother! Tell me something, Y/N” he came closer, and she had no way to run, cornered, “why am I always second best for you? Why?”

“Fuck!” she yelled and without any hesitation pushed herself into him locking his lips, letting all the anger, passion and craving for him out. At first he was taken aback, a bit, and the first thought that came to his mind was that he was going to end up alone and played by her again, but the way her body aligned with his, so damn close, so damn perfect got him crumbling. Out of instinct, he took a step forward, trapping her between the wall and his body, grasping her neck and tangling hand in her soft hair, the other gripping her hip pulling her closer. “you were never….” She gasped pulling for air “you were never second….. fuck, Jason.” Y/N fisted his jacket with a mix of anger and frustration.

“Don’t leave with him” he begged caressing her back, desperate to keep her with him, desperate enough to swallow his pride and get on his knees “I don’t want  you to leave. Please Y/N. Stay. Stay with me.” He nudged her nose with his, mouth hanging open, brushing over hers, so damn close,  wanting nothing but to kiss her again, but at the same time unable to.

‘I’m tired of playing games, Jace…..” she whispered closing her eyes.

“This is not a game, you know it….”

“Then say it. Say it to prove it to me.”

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I was so scared of this feeling. For so fucking long.”

“And now….?”

“Now I want you. If you’ll take me…’ he couldn’t hide that pleading tone in his voice. He was begging her to want him, to need him.  So desperate to not be tossed away like a used cloth, to not be forgotten and abandoned, not again. He begged her to love him back.

“I will.” Tears started falling down her cheeks. “I…. I will….I love you too, Jace…..” She sobbed and her whole body shook because of that. “But….” She swallowed hard and took a sharp inhale “Promise me you won’t hurt me. Promise me you won’t break my heart. Promise me you’ll love me right and won’t hide things from me….. please….I don’t want to be hurt again…..”

“Oh, baby….” He wrapped his strong arms around her, engulfing her in his warmth, hiding his own tear-stained face in her hair, kissing her head repeatedly. Only now he realized that they were both equally broken, life in Gotham and their past making them so similar. They were both scared of being alone, unloved. Having that belief that all life would offer them was scraps. “I swear. I swear to you……” he struggled to say those words because of the lump in his throat. ”you are my first choice too….” Jason added and her arms tightened around his waist. “will you stay now?”

“Yes….” She pulled back and looked into his eyes, filled with hope, relief, love and care, just like hers. “I’ll deal with tom later, but now… can you just hold me like this more? I need this. I need you.”

“You have me, baby. I’m yours. And don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of the man who wanted to take you away from me…..”

“I seriously hope that’s not a death threat, Red.” She laughed lightly and it was the prettiest sound Jason ever heard.

“Can’t make any promises on that…..”

heeeeeeeeeey!!! Can I request a Earth 42! Miles fic/Head canon? Where he has a little gremlin for a girlfriend??Pleeeeeeeeease??? Gracias!! ♥️

EARTH-42 MILES HC’s

Masterlist

Hi!! ofc you can! I hope I can meet your expectations since this is my first time writing HC’s, i didn’t know if you wanted it to be x reader or not, sorry I went a bit over the edge😭😭

Earth 42-Miles Morales x Gremlin Girlfriend

Okay, let’s start with the fact that since he is around his mom a lot, he has a really good Spanish, and a little bit of an accent while speaking english

Unless she understands Spanish, I don’t think he would speak it out of nowhere or that much, sure, maybe some spanglish, or him turning to Spanish when he forgets a word (Or unless he doesn’t want her to understand what he’s saying)

Rio would be a little skeptical at first if she’s not hispanic, or at least know how to say hi, please and thank you in Spanish, but she would be the sweetest once she accepts her

Let’s be honest, we all saw the way Earth-42 Miles is skinnier than Spider-man Miles and has way more eye bags, so his girlfriend and family would probably worry about him a lot

If she is hispanic, then everything changes, he would constantly speak Spanish around her and they would both speak it when they don’t want anyone to understand them

Now onto the gremlin thing (i’m a tall girl so i’m sorry if i didn’t get this right)

So, we all know Miles isn’t the tallest, but he isn’t the short, so it wouldn’t be hard for him to be with a girl who is way shorter than him

I think he would use cringy Spanish nicknames but in a teasing way, he would definitely make fun of her by calling her “enana” or “chaparrita”

It would take a while for him to un ironically use Spanish nicknames, because he would definitely cringe at them at first

I don’t think he would call her mamacita, (maybe he would but I hate that nickname so let’s pretend he wouldn’t)

He would probably make fun of her by putting his arm on top of his head, or putting stuff on the higher place so you can’t reach it

I think his gf would probably get into trouble by thinking she can beat bigger guys who happen to upset her and he would have to either defend her or drag her out of there

He loves the height difference, specially when they’re cuddling, or when he’s holding her hand and he realizes the size diferente

Okay, I think he would need a girl who’s the opposite of him, bubbly, positive, or at least someone who has the ability to make him see positively at least for a second

This man would PROTECT HER with his life, he can’t risk losing someone else

He would think it’s kinda funny when she tries to act mad because she’s just too adorable, unless it’s serious, then even he can fear her

The man would HATE when other guys use her height to try and flirt with her by “making fun of her for being short”, or even worse comparing hands with her

He would think it’s cute and maybe a little bit funny when she gets jealous or as i said, anything that involves her being mad, for him it would be hilarious to see a little person red of anger either trying to contain herself or being over dramatic

Would probably make her jealous on purpose just to see that

He would have a bitch face and everyone would ask her if her boyfriend hated them, unless he’s with her

He would LOVE to hug you and feel the height difference

Picking you up really easily while tickling each other, or her ignoring her, which is kinda unfair

He would be really open with her and allow himself to be happy, just when they’re alone though, don’t get me wrong, he isn’t afraid of being seen treating his girl right, but in public he can’t bee seen as someone vulnerable and would probably just keep a straight face while listening to her babble about something, people would even doubt that he is good for you (of course he is)

I don’t think sleepover’s with him would be that regular even if he wanted them to be, he has a hispanic mom and they’re really strict about girls and boys sleeping in the same place, it would take a while to convince Rio to let them have a sleepover (and her mom as well if she’s hispanic)

When they do have sleepovers don’t doubt that he would fall asleep with her on his chest

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

infodumping spencer you are. so special to me

Katsuki’s recovery process with a cheering audience 🥹

Tropical Storms and Soup - Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by Anon - Can we get a Jason Todd x reder where htey had a booty call relationship with each otehr? And the reader is focred to call Jason when they need a ride hmoe during a sotrm or something?? Please???

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LMAO youre so good at making characters unlikeable when you want them to be and the same with making them likeable when you want them to be

birds of a feather : ninth circle of shame

OCTOBER 18, 9:41 PM

location— bokuto’s “housewarming” party

atsumu leads you out of bokuto’s bedroom and down the stairs. once you’re back in the atmosphere of the party, you feel a wave of nausea hit you like a pang when the smell of the sweat of the crowd, the myriad of perfumes, the drinks and the food stuff makes a rather weird combination.

atsumu notices as your face scrunches up in disgust and you reflexively put a hand against your mouth and your nose, gagging.

he surmises, rubbing your back, “this is making you uncomfortable, isn’t it?”

“then let’s get out of here.” he suggests as he begins to lead you to the door, offering, “i’ll drive you to your dorms.”

you want to decline his offer and leave by yourself, but something inside of you holds you back. you aren’t sure why you don’t retort, but a little while longer with atsumu is all you want. since you’ve already indulged him for the night, letting him drive you back doesn’t sound so bad at this point.

you nod, accepting his proposal, “alright, that sounds good.”

“we should also get you something to eat on the way, you must be starving.” he proffers, teasing you as he pats your tummy.

you turn around to glare at him, shoving his hand away. he entertains your temper tantrum for a moment before he smirks, bragging, “though i think i fed you more than enough.”

“that should’ve satisfied your hunger.” atsumu’s hand finds your back once again, and he starts walking towards the door, while you match his steps.

as you’re about to exit the venue, bokuto spots you by the door. he sprints towards the two of you in order to stop you from departing.

he practically shouts in your ears, greeting you enthusiastically, “hey hey hey!”

you wave at him, a small smile lining your lips, “oh, hey bokuto.”

“hey, bokuto san.” atsumu says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. now that he’s been spotted with you, he’ll have to face unnecessary questions from his senior’s end.

bokuto eyes at the pair of you, stitching his brows together and crossing his arms as he analyses the sight in front of him. he doesn’t miss out on your smudged lipstick and your messy hair. if that isn’t apparent enough, your dress looks unruly too since you put it on in a hurry. atsumu’s ruffled hair and the fact he put on his shirt the other way around don’t go amiss either. the two of you haven’t showered either. over all, anyone with a pair of eyes can quite simply figure out you’ve fucked.

he taunts atsumu, hitting his arm playfully, “didn’t you say you were done with her?”

“but she’s in your arms tonight, once again.” he remarks, laughing, rendering atsumu and you in a rather awkward position.

atsumu notices the change in your expression and pulls you closer to himself, whispering to you, “it’s okay, i got this.”

neither of you wishes to explain the circumstances. you’d rather keep the story to yourself. it’s your personal life and no one has to know. not even a close friend. your relationship is complicated to begin with. since there is no concrete label as of now, there needs to be no description either.

you give atsumu a dismissive look, gesturing not to delve into the details. in response, he extends his hand from your the small of your back to squeeze your arm, signaling that he understands what you’re tying to say.

“it’s not what you think.” atsumu begins explaining, “we both just ran into each other.”

you nod, agreeing with whatever he has to say, in an attempt to add to the credibility of his lies, “yea, totally.” the nervousness in your tone is hard to miss.

“we just ran into each other and decided to have a drink together.” you claim, putting on your best smile, but deep down, you’re sure he knows you’re lying through your teeth. with the crack in your voice coupled with the nervousness in your tone, anyone can tell.

bokuto sneers, raising a brow at you, inquisitive, “is that why the two of you were upstairs all this while?”

“the last i checked, the bar is downstairs.” he states, pointing towards the bar in the kitchen.

“upstairs?” you blurt out, surprised that he was aware regarding your whereabouts. now you’re just hoping he doesn’t know you were in his room. if he does, you‘ll pass out of shame.

“i don’t mind that you lovebirds used my room.” he begins. he laughs mockingly as he whispers to the two of you, “i just hope you haven’t made too much mess in my room.”

“if yes, i’ll make you guys clean up until sunrise.” he quips at you and atsumu, ruffling your hair while he pats atsumu’s back.

neither you nor atsumu are sure how to react. you’re just glad that atsumu is right next to you, pacifying you as he squeezes your arm in reassurance. because if you were in this situation by yourself, you would’ve probably disintegrated into the ninth circle of shame.

atsumu covers up, reciprocating bokuto’s energy as he laughs back at the joke, “we were careful not to make a lot of mess.”

“don’t worry, bokuto san, you’ll just need to do a little bit of cleaning around.” he reports. the two of them chuckle in unison.

you aren’t sure what’s so funny about the situation you’re stuck in. if anything, you’re too embarrassed to even look bokuto in the eye. not only did he catch you red handed with miya after the two of you declared that you were done with one another, but also confronted you regarding the inappropriate use of his master bedroom.

you don’t know how atsumu has it in him to pretend he isn’t embarrassed by all of this, but you’re nervously looking to the ground, cheeks flushed red as a result of immense shame.

but that doesn’t hold you back. you’re curious as to how bokuto found out, so you put forth a question, “bokuto san, don’t mind me, but how did you know we were in your room?”

“you should ask tobio.” bokuto advices, informing you, “he practically stormed out of the party.”

he shrugs, saying, “i tried to stop him and ask him why he’s leaving so soon, which is when he told me something he probably shouldn’t have.”

“you’ve really upset him, yn.” bokuto mentions, pursing his lips, shaking his head, expressing disappointment.

you’re at a loss of words when you realise the blunder you’ve committed. you ditched tobio to spend the night with atsumu despite promising him that you wouldn’t. the one thing about tobio and you is that you never break the promises you make to one other, and you just indulged in the one thing that was forbidden in your friendship.

you don’t know what you’re supposed to do next. you find your head in an absolute mess and your heart haunted by guilt that overflows through your veins.

you excuse yourself, running off, “i need to leave.”

“i should follow her.” atsumu decides, leaving bokuto by the door as he opens it to run after you.

it takes him a while to find you and catch up to you in the maze of cars outside bokuto’s house. but he’s easily able to do so, because you find yourself at a dead end with no ride to go over to tobio’s place to clear things out with him.

“hey, calm down, yn.” atsumu approaches you, wrapping his arms around you from the hindside.

he kisses your head, consoling you, “it’s going to be okay, don’t worry.”

you shout at him, unwrapping his arms, annoyed because you know he probably doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation, “you don’t get it.”

“we never break promises.” your voice cracks as tears begin streaming down your face.

you instinctively hug atsumu, looking for comfort in his embrace, asking in desperation, “what do i do?”

at first, atsumu responds with silence, he only hugs you tighter before he pulls out a kerchief from his pocket. he pulls you out from the hug and makes you rest against the bonnet of a random car to wipe the tears off your face. your eyes are already puffy red and cheeks crimson. he hands you the kerchief to help yourself whenever needed, and kisses your forehead and pulls you into a hug once again.

“you should talk it out with him.” he advises, rubbing your back to pacify you, “that’s the only way.”

he reassures you, kissing your head as he coddles you, “since you’re best friends, you’ll probably be fine.”

he gently separates you from himself, taking your hand in order to guide you to his car, “come on, let’s go.”

“we should sit in my car, okay.” he states, trailing to where his car is parked with you under his wing.

he unlocks the car using the remote key, opening the back door for you to hop in. once you’re settled inside, he follows you and takes a seat right beside you, closing the door behind him.

he offers you his bottle of water, picking it up from the cup holder. you take it from him and begin chugging it down, hoping to assuage your anxiety and dissipate your nerves.

“slow down.” he warns you, taking the bottle from your grip.

you point at the bottle, conveying, “i need more.”

“later. you’ve had enough for now.” atsumu declines, throwing the bottle away and it lands in the leg space of the passenger seat, denying you the possibility of retrieving it.

you’re still baffled at yourself. the right term would be to say that you’re disappointed in yourself because you completely forgot about tobio somewhere along the way.

although it wasn’t until atsumu began pleasuring you and your brain became hazy. that’s most likely how you forgot. but that doesn’t make it right. it’s also the fact that you had given a thought to the idea of returning to tobio instead of entertaining atsumu, but you still chose not to.

you feel terrible because you know he would’ve never done this to you. it would’ve been fine if you would’ve informed him. it would’ve still upset him, but you know he would’ve understood. but to ditch him randomly because you were too desperate to entertain your crush’s shenanigans, there should be no forgiveness for you.

you conclude after you think things through for a good while, and gauge your options, “i should text him.”

atsumu encourages your idea, “yea, sounds good.”

you rest your head again his shoulder and he puts his arm around you, holding you close. he kisses your forehead, squeezing your arm in reassurance, “it’s going to be alright, kitten.”

you pull out your cellphone in order to text tobio. atsumu instantly looks away so as to not invade your privacy, but his support for you remains constant as he continues to rub your arm, letting you know that he’s right next to you.

彡 atsumu was planning on dropping yn as soon as they re entered the party, but decided to stick to her because he couldn’t let go.

彡 tobio was never going to confront yn and let it go but he decided to take a stand for himself.

彡 tobio isn’t upset only because yn ditched him. he saw that one coming. he’s majorly upset because of his jealousy.

彡 even while he was upset with her, tobio was worried about yn’s safety and was willing to drive back to the party just to drop her off.

previous : no love, only the lack there of

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🐰 i have a thing for writing morally black characters or some shit like that.

taglist— @wolffmaiden @viscoolreal @kafkassexchoe @luna-mothii @bomjug @le000xxgrd @dazqa @ineednanami @iluvaquaphor @debussy42 @choizzn @bunninio @empress-pug-pug @karasunoya @sereniteav @yuminako @reooreo @loveelylacey @nbcvs @whosmarjj

I can‘t argue with a blue eyed boy, whatever u say beautiful

THE FINN WOLFHARD HYPE IS COMING BACK AND OH EM GEE YALL DONT KNOW THE HOLD THAT MAN HAS ON ME HES BEEN MY OBSESSION SINCE 2016 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭😭