part 2 of "the only heaven i'll be sent to" with my nb!oc :)
this is where my written drafts end, and i see no time to come up with + write anything like this in the near future. so! requests are now open! if you have any for a short tiny oneshots (<500 words ish? my writing self control is shit so we'll see), let me know!
content warnings: brief mentions of afab body, non-explicit allusions to sex
the full-length mirror stands quietly in the corner of his room. in front of it, you drag an appraising eye over your reflection. the green hoodie of his you found at the bottom of his closet fits you almost shockingly well. the fabric’s plush and comfortable, draping nicely across the breadth of your shoulders; the sleeves are comfortably roomy but taper enough to stay put when you push them up to your elbows; the boxy cut allows the silhouette to fall straight down from your shoulders before cinching slightly at your hipbones, the perfect amount of bagginess to obfuscate the lines of your chest and waist, but not make you look like you’re drowning in fabric. plus, you’ve always had a soft spot for earth tones, and this warm forest green is nothing short of lovely. you feel good in this, you realise, and both watch and feel a grin break out across your face.
“do you wear this often?” you ask over your shoulder as he’s bending to pull on his socks. bright ribbons of sunlight fall across his face as he looks up and squints at you.
“um—no, not at all, honestly. it shrunk in the first wash and i didn’t like the way it fit afterwards. don’t think i’ve worn it in months.”
you nod and turn back to the mirror, admiring your reflection once more. you hear the creak of his bed and padding of socked feet as he stands up and crosses the room. a moment later he appears beside you in the mirror, planting a little kiss on your head before stepping back to affectionately watch you watch yourself. you both know he has to leave, and soon, but neither of you are in a hurry to let this morning slip away so quickly.
“why? d’you wanna borrow it?”
you hum consideringly, turning this way and that. it’s like you can’t look away. your love for baggy hoodies is nothing new, but something about this one clicks in a way you can’t put your finger on. the more you examine yourself trying to figure it out, the more you find yourself drawn to the way you look in it.
“maybe.” you turn to him, pursing your lips. “i really like it.”
“it suits you.” a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he muses, “i’ve never seen you so invested in an item of clothing before.”
“this one’s special.” the declaration is meant to be a joke, but as you settle facing the mirror head-on and continue to study your reflection, your smile grows helplessly. you shrug, almost giddy on the high.
“i don’t know! it just feels good. i can’t describe it, but—the cut, and the silhouette, it’s perfect.”
he chuckles and steps closer to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “i’m glad.” his voice grows softer as he leans in to kiss your temple, his eyes crinkling around the corners as they meet yours in the mirror. “you can keep it.”
you lean into his touch, tucking an arm around him as well to slide your hand into his pocket, cozy warm from his body heat. then you decide to go all the way, slinging your other arm around his front so you’re encircling him in your arms, wrapped around him like a koala, nose squishing into his shoulder. you prop your chin on his chest and take a second to relish the closeness: his ribs expanding with each measured inhale, he’s warm and solid in your arms, made softer by the mid-morning light, the faint scent of his body wash from his morning shower still clinging to his skin.
…you’re getting ideas.
you squeeze once to get his attention, tilting your head coyly. “the colour’s nice as well, i have to say. you’ve got very good taste.”
“i try,” he replies, clearly amused at your blatant flirting. your stomach does flips when he reciprocates, allowing his gaze to slide down your form appreciatively as the corners of his mouth twitch to hold back a grin. “i think i have a newfound appreciation for green now.”
“you sure that’s what’s making me look this good?” you raise a brow as you drag your hand out of his pocket, across the expanse of his clothed back, up diagonally to his shoulder to leisurely massage the muscle there. “i think you just like seeing me in your clothes.”
the way his gaze sharpens lets you know you’re onto something. holding eye contact, you hum mock-thoughtfully and begin to walk your fingers up to the nape of his neck, nails grazing the sensitive skin. you both see and hear his breath stutter. “maybe when you come back, i’ll be waiting for you with just this on—”
“—watch it.”
you toy with the collar of his shirt as he narrows his eyes at you. there’s a pause as you study each other, daring the other to break first. knowingly, you tilt your head back and let your eyes roam. the warm light brings out colours in his eyes, his hair, that you haven’t had the chance to take in until now. despite his sharp tone you spot the same content joy you ribbed him about the morning after your first night at his place. selfishly, it makes you want to bundle him up and keep him for yourself, or maybe push him back on his bed and show him just how happy you can make him. you picture him flushed, gasping, spread out on his bed loose-limbed and starstruck. if he didn’t have a doctor’s appointment in twenty minutes—
“hey.” he narrows his eyes further, pretending to be above it, but the colour rising in his cheeks gives him away instantly. your answering grin is shameless, as is the wink you shoot that makes him flush even darker. eventually he sighs, long-sufferingly, and reaches for your hand that’s stilled curled around his nape.
“it’s not just my clothes,” he begins as he tracks absentminded lines along your fingers. “though that doesn’t hurt. i love seeing you like this.” you watch him, something breaking open in your chest and spilling light as he continues, oblivious. the words flow out of him like he’s finally figured out how to express something that’s been building for months. “when you feel confident in that way, you let yourself shine. it’s like you light up.” a kiss pressed to the backs of your fingers. “i feel like i’m glowing just from watching you.”
you both know he has to leave, and soon. but surely there’s enough time for a feathery kiss to his chest, right above his heart. to prove how much you can make him glow. and to remind him just how much he makes you glow, too.
Could you possibly write a story about Adam’s childhood? Kinda like what you did with Robin but for him
Of course, Lovely! It’s not very good, motivation is dead rn, sorry about that!
Prim and Proper
Adam Jones had appeared in his father’s living room when he was still just a small child. A child with a partner, his best friend, Robin.
Adam Jones had a simple first few weeks, learning how to appear human, growing relations with his parents and the Cities that were his siblings. They got him a dog he named Todd, because he was young and they couldn’t always be around. They were older personifications, and while they tried-- they couldn’t stay at home without a reason the humans would accept.
But it was upon their return from their most recent meeting that they discover the nature of young Governments.
Todd barking and pushing frantically against their legs, the frantic tugging of the Call from young Robin, demanding they hurry up and check before she shows up and checks herself.
The house is full of yelling when they open the door, from the cities they know had arrived mere hours before and themselves at the scene they had stumbled in on.
Adam, the child they took in as their own, on the floor- shaking and convulsing as he coughes and gags on his own blood and sick.
Their Government is new and young, full of flaws and not yet something solid or unyielding.
Their child, as it’s Personficiation, is new and young. He’s sick and frail and it shows in his feverish state that wanes, but never fully disappears.
It doesn’t stop Adam from sneaking out to cause mischief with Robin, merely gives his parents and uncles a good reason not to believe anything someone says about him being a menace.
Todd was a spectacular help for Adam’s situation, the foxhound always seeming to know when the boy would fall into another feverish fit and alerting the Personifications nearby.
It gets better as Adam gets older, though his body’s reaction towards any illness forcing him into a bedridden fever never changes. One parent always with him on his bad nights, keeping watch of the rackety rise and fall of their child’s chest as he breathes.
But even so, their son had always been prim and proper-- even if he had to learn how to eat and chew his food. Always knowing what to say, always with the childish smile on his face as he talks the overzealous law enforcement in circles, always gleefully showing off the hats he nabbed from the passing British Soldiers with Robin.
Adam Jones is always prim, always proper, no matter what happens.
Feeling very burnt out today, how are you and how is your request load?? I don’t want to send another if your too snowed under! 🕯️
I have so many requests but im working through them. However i have my fingers bandaged so i can really write. I accidentally pulled off my nail when it got caught in a door and cuz i have long acrylics on it lifted the nail. It really hurts! Feel free to send in more requests and hopefully I’ll be posting more fics soon but it’s a bit hard to write rn.
hey people hungry for teensy hozier oneshots (<500 words), what kinda stuff dya wanna see?
domestic tooth-rotting fluff, comfort/comfort (fem!reader or nb!oc)
flirty flirty suggesive, non-explicit (fem!reader or nb!oc)
light to medium hurt/comfort (fem!reader or nb!oc)
anything with nb!oc
Voting ended onSep 5, 2025
check out my blog for an idea of my writing style!
and if you're so inclined, you can dm me with a specific topic/setting/request! anything that pops into your head (really truly genuinely anything at all) would be inspo for me :) ily thanks for throwing me a bone in my dryspell era
