#( happy tears ofc but tears nevertheless )

[hwan-g]

bad habit. CHAN — 방찬

pair. bad boy! chris x f. reader. | warnings. mentions of violence, language, mentions of scars, mentions of abuse/neglect, smut, unprotected sex, filthy talk, slight breeding kink. | word count. 4.8k

synopsis. chris has never asked or needed anyone’s help—except yours.

tags. @ughbehavior, @cb97percent, @hyuneater 🤍

“Don’t call 911.”

You stare at the man on your front steps. The scar running across half of his face is paler than usual tonight, contrasting against the bright red painted on his lips.

Blood. Still, that doesn’t surprise you. What does—

The deep burgundy on his white shirt, the way his veiny hands are clutching his left side, his body leaning towards it, curling weakly around the wound, legs clad in black sprawled over the stairs.

This has been a reoccurring image; it’s practically stitched behind your eyelids, his hundreds of injuries, the way he remains bleeding out in front of your house. The familiarity of it doesn’t make it any less distressing to witness.

And yet, the why—it’s never answered. It lingers over the both of you; hangs like a cloud every time you find him there, that designated place of his in your life, with the stench of iron, and sweat.

He can’t stand the way you’re looking at him.

“Stab wound?” you asked, tilting your head at him. Despite your mild annoyance, you couldn’t help but worry.

He seemed to be in more pain than usual.

“Almost,” he replied, and it was a breathy thing. “He couldn’t get close enough,” he choked on that last word, groaning.

You sighed, and helped him to stand, propping his arm around your shoulder, carrying the weight of him up the steps and into your home. As soon as you opened the door, he dropped to the floor, panting.

He was scaring you. “Chris, I think you need to go to the hospital.”

“No,” he exhaled sharp, squeezing his eyes shut, “no hospital.”

That didn’t sound very convincing.

“Please.” At that, you turned to look at him. Chris never said please, never begged for anything. Barely asked for help, his pride too big, his need to appear independent, and self sufficient most important—except when it came to you.

Hell, you consider yourself an overnight private nurse at this point. You had only but a basic knowledge of first aid, but always kept a well supplied kit under your bed, exactly for this reason.

When Chris first showed up on your doorstep, busted face, bruised ribs, you almost turned him away. You’d briefly dated, months back, until you realized the fights would never stop. The thrill of a punch was more important than you. So you ended it, and genuinely thought you would have nothing to do with him, ever again.

Cut to two months later, past midnight. All black shirt drenched, hair sticking to his forehead, pale face—you took him in because it was late. Then because he had nowhere else to go. The excuses blurred together, after a while. Every time was the last time.

A year later, you’re here. You grab the red box, dropping your stuff on the mattress, and rush to him.

You don’t focus too much on what you’re doing, only trying to be quick and precise, assessing the injury, picking out what you need to disinfect, tend, cover. Your fingers work the buttons on his shirt, exposing tan skin, and muscle.

Ignoring, you blinked at the side of his stomach. It didn’t look deep, which was good, but it was still nasty. He’d just barely recovered from a kick to the abdomen, or what he said was a kick.

It looked more like someone had smashed a chair on him. It wouldn’t be entirely impossible.

“I’m gonna need you to take your shirt off,” you mumble, cleaning around the big gash, wiping the blood away.

Chris was intently staring at your face, the pain turning into static; an uncomfortable buzzing that would eventually numb to nothing. The pain was always temporary, and then the itch would come back, hard to tune out. Chris succumbed to it every fucking time.

There was no reason to it, no clear explanation. His brain was just wired that way, and he’d decided to live with it. The life he led was going nowhere, and the most terrifying part of it all—he couldn’t care less.

He didn’t give a single fuck.

“You only have to ask, baby girl,” he flirted, wincing at the motions it took to remove the shirt. His shoulders were sore—of course, that was the least of the damage.

“Don’t be absurd,” you glared at him through your eyelashes. “Keep this on the cut, will you?” Your fingers guided his hand on top of the cut, applying pressure with the cloth you used to clean around it.

“I missed you,” he mused, doing as told.

“You saw me two weeks ago.”

He chuckled at that, and immediately regretted it, almost doubling over with cough. You scolded him, told him to keep quiet. He complied, silently, but didn’t stop smiling.

After that, you ran to your small bathroom, wetting a towel with warm water, and washing your hands. When you were sure the blood had stopped flowing, you cleaned the wound one more time, gently fingering some antibiotic cream on the angry looking thing.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, wrapping sterile bandage around his torso. You secured it with a pin, and leaned back to admire your work.

“All done.” You paused as you said that, peaking at his face. “You know how to take care of that, don’t you?” You pointed at his lip.

Chris nodded, already ahead of you on that. You took a deep breath, and nodded back, starting to get up. His hand shot out, stopping you.

“Thank you.” His eyes, peering over at yours—they looked almost angelic. Perhaps it was an illusion of the moon, illuminating on his face from the window next to him.

Or perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you.

“Yeah. Of course.” You bunched up his bloody shirt in your hand, and went to throw it in the washing machine, along with the rest of your laundry.

It had become a habit of sorts, doing washes with his clothes. It sort of gave you a reason to complete that dreaded chore. Walking over to your closet, you grabbed one of his many spare shirts that stayed in your house after visits like this, and threw it at him.

Chris had already tended to his lip, and eyebrow. Grasping the corner of the wall, he slowly slid up, hissing at the strain and effort it took to stand.

“You’re staying here,” you said, on stand by to help him move to your bed. He nodded, his face scrunched up in pain. You let him use you as a crutch, sitting him down on the soft surface.

After a few seconds of deep breaths, he turned his head to look at you. His broad shoulders, and defined chest distracted you way more than you cared to admit. You prompted him to wear the shirt, taking off your own.

The two of you had never been shy to each other’s bodies. He’s seen you naked more times than he’s seen you clothed, he knows every crevice of you, every freckle. And you do, too. You remember everything. Sometimes you wish you didn’t.

“What started it this time?” You asked, conversationally, reaching for your oversized T-shirt by the edge of your headboard.

Chris whirled his frame, his back to you, as he struggled to fit the shirt over his head without irritating the wound too much.

And there they were. Dozens of scars, all faded with time, but bumpy, evident even in a dark room. They looked like slashes, knife or whip marks, you’d never got a clear answer for that. Or for anything, really.

He had all these scars, on every part of him, and he still longed for more—got himself in trouble just to feel them forming again, and again. Once, you accused him of living in the past, of thriving off of getting hurt. It was a mean thing to say, but you’d said it anyway.

It was true. You’d seen it in his eyes, back then. He knew nothing else—no other way. Getting physical was second nature to him. But it wasn’t to you, and you had grown sick with obsessing over your phone, waiting to get that one dreadful call.

The call that would break you, ruin everything. You broke up with him hoping that would bring him to his senses. If anything, it only made it worse.

Your fingers reached to trace them, the ghosts of his childhood. His body stilled, froze under your touch. You think he’d stopped breathing, until he exhaled shakily.

“The motherfucker had it coming,” he said through his teeth. “He messed with Felix.” As if that would explain everything.

It did, to no one’s surprise. Chris would die for that Lee Felix—he’d been his longest friend, dating from their childhood back in Australia.

He had a tattoo, located at the top of his spine, right under the nape of his neck. It was a traditional looking cross, but there was a snake wrapping around it, engulfing it in its leathery embrace. He’s had that since you met him. He got that for his friend, he’d said. Snakes symbolize rebirth.

His friend had died in a car accident, the winter before you saw him at the bar you worked at. Still work at. His name was Changbin, and ‘he loved dark shit like that.’

Chris got that in his memory. That’s the only ink he has.

But the scars. The scars had no answer. The scars ran deeper than anything else. He’d always been self conscious of the one extending from the bottom of his brow, over his nose, to the apple of his cheek. It had made such a strong impression on you, when you saw it. You thought it looked badass. You said so.

He’d smirked at you, twirling his drink with one hand, a thick chain adorning his wrist.

“Isn’t that a red flag, sweetheart? Liking men with scars?”

You’d smiled softly, pouring a cocktail you’d just made to a glass with a lime wedge on it.

“Not if the scar isn’t their fault.”

His eyes darkened at that, face somber. “And how would you know?”

It was clear you’d pushed a button, somewhere, but it was way too late to backtrack then. So you replied, “You don’t look the type to slice their own face open.”

He’d asked for your name then. That same night, you found him waiting outside, leaning against his motorcycle. It was something like three in the morning. He looked wide awake.

He took you home, and fucked you against the doorframe. You couldn’t even make it past the hall. Ever since then, you clung to each other.

And then you didn’t. He never stopped.

“Can I ask about them, now?” You kept your voice small, barely above a whisper.

Chris shuddered, but said nothing for a long time. Then he wore the shirt at once, still facing away from you. You wore yours too, almost giving up on his replying.

Then he spoke.

“My step dad was a drunk,” he started, his tone rough. “He beat my mom, and constantly fucking threatened me. Many times—he’d kick me out, throw all my shit to the streets. My mom tried to reason with him,” he chuckled, dryly, “there was no reasoning with him. He had a pocketknife. It was always out whenever I was around.”

He stopped, letting the words register in your ears. Tears brimmed at the edges of your eyes, and you let the spill freely. You knew it’d be fucked up, but never this. This was child abuse—it was horror.

He buried his face in his hand, rubbing his face raw. Then he turned to look at you. His brows rose at your tears, surprised to see you cry like this, for him. He reached out and wiped them away, one by one.

“One night, my mom was asleep. I’d come home late. He made sure I knew—that was his house. I lived under his roof.”

You got a hold of yourself, taking in his words as he caressed your face. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. He seemed to know that—he made no move. Lines. You’d established lines, and despite his rebellious personality, he would never cross them.

Because he cared about you way too fucking much. Because if this was the only way he could have you, he sure as hell would not jeopardize it—for nothing.

Even if his body missed yours like crazy. Even if he dreams of you naked underneath him, giving in to him, letting him take care of you the way he knows. The way he’s learned, the way you’ve taught him.

“Thank you telling me this,” you laid a hand on his thigh, a sad smile stretching your mouth. “I wish I’d known sooner.”

He stared at your hand on him. “It changes nothing.”

You had to put some space between you. Getting up, you walked to the bathroom to wash your face. He watched you walk away from him—you seem to do that so well.

Him, on the other hand. Anchored down, setting camp outside you, waiting. Until you change your mind—until you accept this, this thing between you, until you invite him in again.

You must still know—how he loves you. The fire had been lit long ago, perhaps when he first laid eyes on you, perhaps longer still, even before. It’s still burning, but it’s a desperate attempt—there’s little wood left, and no kindling.

Still, he waits. Still, he loves you. Chris has never known how to give up.

“Who was with you?” You ask, trying to break the impenetrable wall that’s started to build between you again.

“Felix, Hyunjin, and Jisung,” he replied, feeling your intent. “We were just drinking. You can ask them—they’ll vouch for me. I didn’t start it.”

You snorted at that, dabbing your face with a towel, and turning off the light. “Of course they’ll take your side. You’re leading a cult, Bang Chan. Have you not noticed how blindly people follow you?”

His eyes followed you as you comfortably went around your safe space, putting on your skincare, brushing your hair. He felt like an invader, interrupting your life like this, a beggar scrapping for crumbs—and yet you acted like he didn’t, like he was part of your daily routine.

Like he belonged in your room at one in the morning, wrapped in gauze, half drunk. Like before.

“How long will you make me wait?” It fell out of his mouth, before he could even second guess it.

Your hands stopped mid air, the question too honest, too raw. A dare, almost.

“Chris…” You wouldn’t look at him, instead resuming what you were doing, shaken.

He sat where you left him, arms crossed over his naked chest, all muscle, eyes piercing you through the mirror in front of you. You let your gaze graze over his frame in the dark. The remnants of his touch, the way his breath would fall over your breasts, dropping kisses on your skin—and then, finally, the entering, the gasp, the intoxicating spreading and stinging of his cock buried deep in you—

You missed him more than words could describe. But the fear—it had its vines wrapped tight around you. He’s still fighting, disregarding his life, thinking so very little of himself…

You couldn’t mean so much to someone. You couldn’t be the only thing that made them happy—the only thing that filled their empty spaces.

Chris was a strong man. A mountain, something you couldn’t easily shake, something that seemed to withstand the passage of time, and nature, and the wrath of other men. But a mountain chips away, too. Little by little, the change so small, not visible to the naked eye.

One day, it would grumble and crumble. Fall apart entirely. Something that once stood so big and unbeatable, suddenly reduced to rock and debris.

“You’ve any idea how much I love you?” His voice filled with emotion, growing deep with yearning. “How much it takes for me to not reach out and touch you how I know you love being touched?”

“We were doing so well,” you mutter, tears welling up. “Why’d you have to ruin it?”

“‘Cause it’s bullshit, isn’t it?” There’s resentment in his tone, now. He’s shaking with purpose. “You feel it as much as I do, (Y/N). I know you fucking do. Stop trying to hide from me. From me—any other motherfucker you can fool, but not me.”

“I know you like the back of my hand.”

Your body shot up from the chair, before your mind could begin to process what you were doing—you opened the front door, your face collapsing with grief.

“Leave.” A weak attempt.

He made no move to do so. Instead, he rose to his feet, hand clutching the headboard, evidently in pain. You felt like a hypocrite, helping him with his wound, but throwing him out of your house the moment he speaks the truth.

You try not to waver.

“Close the door, angel,” he spoke softly, like how one would talk to a child.

You blink, tears blurring his broad figure. You think you should, like maybe you’re overreacting, but it’s him, it’s Chris, and you’re sure he’d never tell you to do anything he wasn’t sure you wouldn’t regret.

He walks towards you, slowly, grunting along the way. He leans against the hall’s wall, head falling on the cool of it, and he looks at you. He looks at you with the weight of him, the history of you, his love that still remains.

He looks at you because he sees it back. It’s staring him straight in the face. Why would you be crying, otherwise?

“You have to stop, Chris,” you say and it chokes you. The wave of it. It drowns you both.

“He’s not here anymore. He’s gone.”

And you mean his stepfather. You mean Changbin. You mean the little kid that had to fight just to survive—just to have a roof over his head, just to protect his mom when his mom wouldn’t protect him. You cry for all of them, because they shaped who is standing in front of you.

Chris had to glue every single piece of what made him. But you cannot glue a person back together. It’s going to be all wrong—you saw that, too. You tried to understand it.

His dark eyes were glistening. He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple moving. He tried to pretend; tried to ignore how his throat closed up, how his chest hurt.

“Stop what?” But he knew. He knew.

“Fighting back. You won. You’re okay,” you exhale sharply, smiling at him, but it’s a sad thing.

And then, at last, you sob. Everything you’ve been boxing up, everything you’ve wanted to say—it surges out of you. A tsunami high enough to bury the entire city of him underwater.

Bang Chan withstands, as he always does.

His arm reaches out, and crushes you into him, slamming the door shut with his foot. You go, because you’re tired of fighting as well. You’d like to rest now. Tell yourself it’s going to be alright at the end.

You belong with this man, after all. The tide keeps bringing him back to you.

“Let me in,” he repeats feverishly on your neck. His hot breath is scorching. “Let me in, let me in…it’s me, angel.”

It was. You nod against him, your tears still sweeping, flowing, bursting. If you’re hurting him, he doesn’t show it, instead tightening his arm around you, allowing you to accept him. And you do—you open up like a flower after heavy rain. You show him everything.

Chris leaves a kiss on the top of your head. “For you, anything. For you, the world,” he whispers in your hair, and you believe it.

He’d rather die before he loses you again. You know this, too.

And so it starts—the pushing, and pulling. Your shirt over your head, his arms grabbing, throwing, your naked skin under his warm hands, the way it comforts his rushing thoughts. You’re being careful with his cuts, the sharpness of him, but the softness—the shades, and curves, the roughness of his past sketched on him, the pencil dug, the lines going inwards, hard and clearly outlined to last.

He pushes you back against the door, and it feels like that first time, so long ago now, when you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him—when he was driven to the brink of insanity with the thought of you, how you would feel, so much so that he’d risk everything, he’d take you right there, outside your workplace if possible, but you showed him something better, something personal and intimate—your home. And he became a part of it, like a piece of furniture, and even after, he’s still there, on all you owned, his scent never quite gone because he comes again.

And again. Again, again, again. He’s never gone longer than the time it takes for his cologne to dissolve from your sheets.

Your fingers are shaking, and his are too, but they’re also fervent, they’re trying to reach everywhere, all at once, and the impatience of him is so truly like him that it brings new tears, and those tears smear on his shoulder when your head drops, when his fingers push your underwear to the side and sink into you—oh, the feeling of him. The longness of his digits, the way they curl inside your cunt, all the ways he knows where to go, like a map he wrote himself, with red pins all over it, marking the salient spots, the foremost parts of you. Your mouth hangs open, as he takes you like that, and he reaches for it—smashes your lips together, his tongue exploring familiar territories, but also whatever has changed in the time you kept yourself from him. He’d learn it again, he’d spend his whole life reintroducing himself to you.

“Let go for me, baby. Whenever you’re ready… I’m right here.”

You’re screaming, you think, it feels too good, and his middle finger is hitting that spongy spot inside of you, the wetness of your cunt sounding impossibly sinful to your ears, but he keeps going, he loves it, it’s making him rock hard against your thigh, and oh my God, you can feel the length of him, you remember how fucking delirious it used to make you to cup him over his jeans, feel him fill your entire palm and more, his mouth over your ear whispering dirty things, awful awful words, that stole your breath, that had you fully alert of all the ways a man could use you, could pleasure you—my beautiful girl, I can’t wait to have my dick buried deep inside of your sweet cunt, I bet you feel like pure fucking morphine—Chris’ mouth could run for days. But he absolutely fucking lived for the way you’d collapse on him, for the effect his filthy words had on you, and especially on your pussy, the way you’d drench him the more he whispered to you.

Your orgasm rippled through you in one tidal wave. You grind down on his hand, riding through it, and he encourages you, he’s everywhere, there’s no line where you start and he ends, he’s all over you, you’re all over him. Your moans turn him into a goddamn animal, send him straight to Hell, and he gladly goes, he gladly falls, anything, anything for you, absolutely, and always, you must know, surely you must fucking know.

“Get inside me. Now, Chris, now, fuck…” you pant, you fall apart—he catches you. Every time.

He obliges. Your touch on his cock is heavenly, all he’s been waiting for, for you to want him like this again, to be this close, to be as close as it humanly gets, and if he could become second skin on you he would, but he fucking can’t, so he settles for this—you position him against your entrance, and despite his battered body he pushes in, he would never miss this, would never refuse, goddamn the wounds, and the scars, and the fucked up part that still exists in him, will always exist.

He pushes, and he slips in, slips past, his arm is wrapped around you, his hand is squeezing your neck, he’s folded around you like the snake on his neck—a rebirth, and it is, it fucking is—you cannot breathe then, the stretch incredible, the feeling of him, of his cock—you’d missed him so fucking much, you can’t believe you deprived yourself for this long.

But he’s here now. He fucks into you slow, sensual—you think he can’t possibly move any faster, the pain too much, but one, two, three, four thrusts later and he picks up his pace, cradles you into his chest and drills up in your cunt, almost lifting you off the ground. You gasp, his name whispered like a prayer, yes, yes, please don’t fucking stop, yes, harder, please Chris, please—he shushes you, his fingers getting lost in your hair, pushing strands away from your face so he could look into your eyes, so he could watch as you come apart, as your eyes fall shut, as you go into overdrive.

You’re so wet for me, baby girl, I can’t fucking believe I’m inside you—will you let me come in my pussy, mine, it’s mine, you’re mine, angel, fuck—he’s aggressive now, almost there, crazy with need, and your smell, your sweet smell mixed with the musky scent of your sex, he can’t get enough, he’s going to have to be buried in you for the rest of his life, he thinks, its impossible to part with you now, he’s scared, fucking terrified, there’s nothing better than this, than you, he loves you so fucking much, he’d trade his entire existence for one taste of you, of your lips, of your cursed cunt—he’s in flames, you’ve become a forest fire, torching everything in your wake, and he’ll burn with you, he’ll gladly burn to the ground if that’s what you want.

Your lips suck on the sensitive part of his neck, and it sends him spiraling—he’s bruising your thigh that’s against his hip, his fingers dig into your jaw, you’re blind with the entirety of him—you come, and you’re begging.

“Come with me—come inside me. Please, please—”

He needn’t be told twice; he chases after you, his own high overwhelming, but he stays moving inside you, painting your walls with his cum, breeding you, marking you. He faintly thinks if you get pregnant with his child, he’d marry you on the spot, would take care of the both of you, you’d never have to worry. He stills inside of you, both hands on your ass now, as he realizes the wavelength of his feelings, his own obsession—a family with you.

Chris doesn’t ponder over it for too long, knowing you’d freak out on him and he’d have to lose you all over again, but he thinks he can see it; a little girl in his arms, your warm voice filling his mind. He shakes his head, as his cock slips out of you, his hand reaching to tuck it back into his jeans.

Later—there’ll be time for that. But not now. He doesn’t think he can handle that right now, not when the monsters of his past are still threatening to knock down the very foundation of him.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, looking down, examining his wound. There’s blood peaking through the white of the bandage, and you sigh. “I have to change this.”

Chris smiles at you, without meaning to. His girl. His. He’d never take it—this—for granted. You worrying about him, your eyes staring at him softly. Never.

He’d never fuck this up. Never again.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands, but he’s still smiling, his face feels like the sun.

“I love you,” you say shyly, quietly.

“Again.”

“I love you.”

His forehead falls against yours, his hands on your arms, holding you in place.

“Again,” he whispers, eyes closed.

You brush your thumb on his cheek. “I love you, Chris,” you say earnestly. Proudly.

When he cups your face, you think you will never love anyone as much as you love him. There’s no one like him—no one you’d rather have. And when he drops a kiss on your forehead—home.

Nothing like it.

[yawujin]

could you do dangonronpa v3 cast x reader where the reader gives them a love note and when they give it to them they run away

i love this idea !! ofc i can do it ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )

💭 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ drv3 cast reacts to being given a love letter

type | react , reader insert , love confessions , cute , no killing game

author's note* just testing out a (slightly) different format for my posts. feedback is appreciated and welcomed !! thank you

shuichi saihara ♥︎

he thinks he knows what it is , but wants to check with them to see if he's correct in his assumption. they've completely disappeared so now he can't :( he tries to hide his excitement. he's opening the letter awkwardly, doing his best to ignore the shakiness of his hands. he reads the letter to himself, in his head. his calm expression from before changes into a soft smile while he spends the rest of his day reading it over and over. he'll need some time to think about what he's going to say to them in response...

rantaro amami ♥︎

"oh? is this for....me?" he's seen that they've already ran off, leaving him all alone with this letter. he opens it , careful to not tear the envelope too much (he'll probs reuse to send a postcard later on) he's kind of flustered upon reading it at first, but as he reads on, he gets happy. he feels himself become warm. it's a nice type of warm. he basks in the feeling while he thinks of what he could possibly say in response to their love note 💭

kiibo ♥︎

he's legit so happy. he's never gotten a love letter before, so imagine his surprise when they slip one into his hands and run away. he's kind of sad that they ran before he had a chance to speak with them, tell them about how much he appreciates it. nevertheless, he reads it. then reads it again, and again. and oh how excited he is to make one in response telling them exactly how he feels!

korekiyo shinguji ♥︎

it's a new, and rather exciting thing for kiyo to receive this letter. he doesn't think of them rude to just run off after handing it ovee to him, instead adding to their mystique. perhaps, they just wanted him to take the contents of their letter all in, all by himself. either way, he reads it and holds it close to his chest. by dawn, he will have his response. he just needs to have a long brainstorm about what he's going to say

kaito momota ♥︎

kaito is shouting at them to come back so he can read and react to it with them still there. but alas, they still leave and kaito is left with nothing but an envelope and some mixed feelings. he decides to open it in his room. when he does read the note, he's yelling excitedly, dancing in place with the note still in hand. he only stopped when he realized he needs to think of a response ASAP so he can tell him how feels by tomorrow

gonta gokuhara ♥︎

gonta wants to thank them for the letter, but they've already taken off. he frowns but opens the letter right away anyway. his frown only turns into a smile the more he reads. he feels appreciated more than anything. he begins writing a letter of his own right away!

ryoma hoshi ♥︎

ryoma, although confused, doesn't mind so much that they suddenly took off. his focus is on tentatively taking the note out of the envelope so it doesn't tear. he begins to read it. he pulls his beanie down to hide his face, and starts to walk off as well. he really hopes nobody saw how red he turned. he's going to be thinking about this for the rest of the week. after he feels less embarrassed, then he'll respond.

kokichi ouma ♥︎

he lowkey wants to start chasing them just to mess with them but decides not to. he needs to get this envelope open straight away! he tears it open the same way a kid would tear open a gift on christmas morning. in all honestly, he thought it would be some prank...so when it turned out to be a genuine love note from them. he didn't really know what to say or do. he'll most likely tease them about how quickly they ran off, not really knowing of any other way to confront them about this

kaede akamatsu ♥︎

she tries thanking them for their letter right then and there, but they run off while she's doing so. she kind of just shrugs it off and gets to opening up the envelope. she's like :o as soon as she sees what's inside. she thinks their note is totally cute! and she *needs* them to know it, too. she's on her way to tell them about how she feels.

tsumugi shirogane ♥︎

"oh dear...." she sighs, watching them run away from her. the anticipation of what could possibly be waiting for her in this letter is killing her so she gets it open soon after they leave.

on the outside she's a blushing mess but inside she's an even bigger mess. she's happy that they took the time to write this note but also kind of lost on what she's going to say in response...she's never received something like this before

miu iruma ♥︎

at first, she's kind of laughing because of how fast they ran away. she thinks they're a bit of a scaredy cat even though she would probably do the same thing 🤭 her cockiness gets shut down quick as soon as she reads what is on the note. she genuinely stunned , and she stays like that for the rest of the day. the girl genius' brain can only work so hard. she sleeps on what her response is going to be and writes it the following morning.

angie yonaga ♥︎

doesn't mind too much that they ran off as soon as they slipped her the note. she waits until after she's prayed to open it up. she reads it happily and then begins to doodle a response on the back of the note, fully planning to give it to them the next day. she wants to see their reaction.

maki harukawa ♥︎

was about to ask them what the note is about before they ran off but it was too late. she's skeptic on what's inside so she hesitantly opens it up. she reads it over, becoming half anxious, half flustered. she touches her hair to calm her nerves. she gives another read so she's certain that all she read wasn't just her eyes playing tricks on her. later, that same day, maki sits down to write a very formal response to them.

tenko chabashira ♥︎

she doesn't know why exactly they just handed this letter over to her and ran, but she's yelling out a 'THANK YOU!" for it. the more she reads , the more she gets excited. she doesn't care about how loud she's getting because her focus is all on the contents of the note. she's going to punch something out of pure excitement!! she's going to make her response as if it was an emergency.

himiko yumeno ♥︎

as she watches them run away, she asks: "nyeh? why me?" after some time of debating whether or not she should read the note, she does. she feels herself getting embarrasingly flustered. she is a little surprised though considering she didn't need to cast a love spell on anyone to receive a note like this this time.

[sidereumnox]

Books

Okay so, a couple of nights ago, instead of sleeping at a reasonable hour, I had a thought. My relationship with books and my parents. Admittedly, I'm not entirely sure if my mum is into reading or not. But my dad was. He loved to study. I think because I was closer to him, I was really just trying to impress him, you know? No complaints there because I do too love learning and reading, which are good things really.

Anyway, yeah I thought about the snippets of joy during my childhood. I remembered about a story book collection in a form of a small city, the one that has many pockets in front of a house or building picture, and each pocket has a short story about the cretures living there. Oh how I wish I could live in that city. I don't recall if it's from my mum or dad. But I'm thankful nevertheless because I believe that was mine alone and the stories made me happy - well, at least I would like to believe so.

Another book collection that I remembered was the princesses stories from a random seller at a gas station. I was ecstatic when my dad said I could get one. Oh gosh, I remembered that I was curious about the Disney princesses tales. But, my parents are not that into American waves, except Tom & Jerry. Yeah my dad loved Tom & Jerry. So, yeah I didn't really get to experience Disney childhood era until I was in elementary school I think. Yeah, learned that from my peers. Okay, so these books were the ones like Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and else, but it wasn't produce by Disney. I remembered I was hooked by the stories and the illustrations. Loved those books!

The next one was a children encyclopedia set given by my mother. I was in tears when my mum said she'd buy me those books. Because I've been eyeing those books and learned that twas expensive! Like, okay yeah I still think it's expensive if I need to buy the whole set at a time. And admittedly, I don't think I read the entire collection at the time. I remembered reading about the space exploration (ofc!), the animals, the cities and places, and the environment. Hmm, I forgot. Perhaps I did read them all but I only remember the topics that interest me? Could be. Anyhow, thank you, mum. I'm in tears (of joy!).

The last one that I remembered was a biography collection of Moh. Hatta. It was given by my dad. Honestly, I've never finished this one. Not even the first chapter. But, I remembered that I was hooked by Soekarno's autobio and thought how fun it'd be to learn about the history from another perspective (Hatta's). But, ah. I got lost in his words. Maybe I could give another shot later.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you mum and dad for these gifts. Knowledge. I am forever grateful.

[eyelessfaces]

llewyn during your pregnancy

llewyn davis x reader

part 2 to llewyn reacting to you being pregnant

warnings: pregnancy ofc, kids ofc, angst, llewyn being insecure, llewyn being possessive, kind of mentions of a breeding kink?? (blink and you'll miss it)

tags: gn!afab!reader, lots of fluff

-llewyn doesn't necessarily show it but he's happy he's having a kid with you

-he would never tell you but he cried the night you told him you were pregnant

-happy tears ofc

-because he couldn't believe you were carrying his baby

-we all know he has a history with abortions

-but he trusts you and he knows you're the one so he has no problem keeping this baby

-but nevertheless llewyn is overall scared he's not gonna be a good father.

-the only kid he's ever come across is his nephew

-and the other time he experienced fatherhood was with the gorfeins' cat and.....

-well we all know how it ended

-he often doubts himself and asks you if you're SURE you want that baby because he doesn't think he will be a good father

-but you always reassure him by telling him that he'll learn overtime and he has time to study the field and he just goes

-'yeah you're right :)'

-but he's also worried about financial issues

-he offered you to quit music to go back to merchant marines multiple times

-but you told him that it was okay and he didn't have to give up on everything, not after he fought so much for his job.

-llewyn stopped smoking around you

-he always distances himself from you to smoke

-just because he doesn't want to harm the baby :(

-he's so proud that you're pregnant because he gets to show everyone that you're his

-because some guys really weren't shy and ashamed about hitting on you when you were at the gaslight

-even pappi

-(it really got on llewyn's nerves but pappi was the one that got him his gigs = his money so....)

-but now they get to know that you're his and you're carrying his baby and he's the one that filled you and that put it in you :)

-anyways.

-llewyn really enjoys staying close to your belly

-before going to bed you'll read a book and he'll just be there with his face next to your bump, gently caressing it

-he kisses it goodnight before sleeping :)

-'goodnight buddy. or princess. whatever gender you are' *smooch*

-everytime he hugs you from behind his hands are resting on it

-sometimes in the morning he thinks you're still sleeping so he talks to the baby

-you think it's adorable so you keep on faking the sleep

-because you know he wouldn't do it in front of you

-one time when you were just chilling in bed you started making bets on what gender the baby was

-he kept on insisting that it was a boy

-you didn't know why but you agreed

-but for the fun of it you contradicted him and insisted that it was a girl, that you could feel it because she was in your body, you were the one carrying her so you were obviously right

-but he won and you're indeed carrying a little guy

-a little guy that you're going to name mike

-you had thought about it one night when you couldn't sleep

-and you asked llewyn if it was okay and if he felt comfortable with it

-and he loved it

-he cried in your arms, he cried so much

-and it was one of the rare times he cried in front of you

-he loved you so much for the idea

-the more the due date approaches the more llewyn is nervous

-and that's normal of course but

-I think when llewyn is nervous he gets hot headed and kinda mean

-and he's just insufferable

-with you and everyone else

-but it's because he's afraid something might go wrong

-when you're at the hospital he's a weird mix of many things:

-he's screaming at the nurses when they tell you you have to wait before being admitted

-he's just like

-'the baby is coming why do you want us to wait??!!!! it's coming out any second!!!!!!!'

-and it really doesn't help you calming down but yeah well deal with it

-when they finally get you a room llewyn stays with you sitting at the chair besides your bed, holding your hand

-you tell him he looks nervous and he acts like he's not

-he tries to act chill but his facade is SO weak

-you can feel it from his sweaty palm and his bouncing leg

-and every five minutes he's just like 'what the fuck are we waiting for'

-then a doctor comes in and tells him to wait outside

-and as much as he loves you and cares about you he's glad he has to wait outside while you're giving birth

-because he knows he wouldn't handle seeing you screaming and crying and pushing and squeezing his hand while not being able to do anything to help you

-so he goes to the waiting room as asked and he paces around it

-and somehow he feels even more panicked not knowing what's happening

-he tries to distract himself but it's unsuccessful

-he tries reading magazines but he can't focus

-he tries counting the tiles of the walls but wonders if you and the baby are okay every 20 seconds so he loses track

-he can't sit more than 3 minutes

-so he justs waits in front of the room, hands in his pockets and just rocks back and forth on his feet

-but then he waits so long his feet start hurting

-so he sits down

-and waits

-waits

-waits

-starts falling asleep

-then regains consciousness when the doctor tells him to come in

-and he sees you holding mike :)

-and he swears it's the best moment of his life :)

-you look so tired and drained but he swears you look beautiful and he's so proud of you :)

-and his baby

-oh my god his baby

-his son

-he's in awe in front of mike

-when llewyn holds mike for the first time he does his best not to burst into tears

-but fails miserably

-he's just so happy and so overwhelmed with so many emotions

-then the nurses take care of mike to clean him up etc

-and llewyn kisses your forehead gently and goes

-'sorry I've been so rude to you lately. I was just so nervous. I love you so much and I'm so proud of you'

---

there will be a part 3 :))

[cotccotc]

SKZ REACT to...

 ◈ you being followed

part of my eight as fate event !! ( requested by anon​ ♡ )

genre/s: comfort, skz x gn reader

warning/s: description of being followed on the street, descriptions / mentions of panic attacks

wc: 1.8k

a/n: this one took me quite a while but i’m happy with it !!! i decided to write out a longer introduction to this to kinda set up a scene !! i hope y’all enjoy it (esp the comforting parts ofc kdjdjf)

it’s somewhat unlike you to walk alone at night. you figured it would only take you a few minutes, but you got out of work late, setting you back quite a while. to make things worse, while you were working overtime, the sun had set, leaving you to traverse the dimly lit city streets on your own. all you know is that your boyfriend left the door open for you, and a couch date sounds really great right now.

somewhere along your walk, you heard a shuffling noise coming from behind you. you disregarded it, thinking it may have been simple paranoia. you’ve seen too many movies, you think. however, as you keep up your leisurely yet steady pace, you hear another noise. this time you turn around.

a man. in a black hoodie. looking you dead in the eye.

your eyes widen as a small gasp leaves your mouth. needless to say, you begin sprinting to your destination, heart racing at a pace that rivals the speed of your feet. with your focus aimed at getting as far away as you can, you’re honestly not even sure how your legs know where they’re going. nevertheless, your saving grace comes into view. after a quick glance at the now empty street behind you, you sprint even faster than before. and, once you make it to the apartment door, you fling the door open and leap inside with enough force to rattle the hinges.

“y/n? what’s wro-”

“i was being followed,” you interject, a choked sob finally escaping you.

◈ CHAN

his first instinct, no matter what, is to make sure you feel safer now.

he’ll sit you down on the couch, staying close beside you and rubbing your back while reiterating that whoever that man was is gone now.

i’ve always liked to think he’d be good to have around in the event of a panic attack. especially if you’re the type of person who needs physical and verbal reassurance. back rubs, hugging, and breathing reminders galore.

once you’ve calmed down, he would wipe away your tears and hold you close to him as he asks you about the rest of your day.

he’s an amazing listener and he can’t wait to hear about the latest employee or customer gossip lmao

but more importantly, it would take your mind off things, which is all he truly wants.

if you start looking a bit gloomy or drifting off in thought, he’d probably suggest some cuddle time !! he would make sure to remind you of how courageous you were in that moment before promising you one last time that you’re safer now, here with him.

you’d finally fall asleep in his arms, filling him with relief.

◈ MINHO

first reaction: absolutely pissed.

not at you of course, but at the guy who was following you. with you still in his arms, he glances pointedly out the front door and the windows, closing the blinds after giving the entire apartment a once-over.you end up in the bedroom, in which he’ll guide you to sit beside him on the bed.

his expression will have completely changed from anger to loving concern. he’d look deeply into your eyes while holding both your hands in his, assuring you that you’re safe now.while you continue to cry, you explain what had happened in more detail. he strokes your hair as you speak and nods along, blood boiling.

he can’t stand the thought of any person making you feel unsafe. but, he’d maintain a calm exterior in order to make you feel more at ease.

once you describe the whole situation, he’d reassure you once again that the man can’t get to you now.

“he’ll have to get through me.”

you giggle.

“hEY”

◈ CHANGBIN

i think he’d have a similar reaction to minho !!

very visibly pissed that some random guy had the nerve to intimidate you. that dude’s lucky he didn’t follow you the whole way home or else he’d probably be pretty uh. damaged. by now..

he’d sit you down on the couch, do a quick check-in at each of the windows and doors, and come back as soon as he can to console you.

when he does, he’s quick to sit beside you, arm wrapped around you with the other wiping the tears off of your face.

after you explain the situation a bit more clearly, he becomes even more angry (probably mutters some curses under his breath)

but !!!! i think he’d really try his best to focus on cheering you up

asking you what you’d like to do for the rest of the night, if you’d like any food, if you’d like to sleep or stay up for a while.. etc.

plus he’d amp up the silly antics to make you forget about things !!

◈ HYUNJIN

i think his physical reaction would become similar to yours. very quickly.

like once he sees your tears and senses your quickened pulse. his immediate response (whether voluntary or not) would be to emulate you.

so, naturally, he’d hold you in his arms and let you cry it out, while small sobs of his own escape him.

seeing you so scared is a scary feeling.

of course, he’d reassure you that you’re safe !!! he’d look into your eyes, tucking your hair behind your ears, and tell you that it’s all over now and that you’re safe.

you, of course, don’t want him to feel sad or scared, so you’d console him as well.

you two would comfort each other the whole rest of the night. i think the most probable option would be the two of you cuddled up in bed watching a movie or reading webtoons together

distraction !! but make it a drama !! or a romcom because .. vibes !!

and when you decide it’s time for bed (however late that may be due to the stress from earlier) he’d be sure to remind you that he’ll be with you all night & when you wake up

(but he’s also secretly clinging onto you out of fear as well kdjfgj)

◈ JISUNG

“oh sh- oh sHIT-”

wouldn’t know what in the fuck to do

would haphazardly check all the windows like minho did, holding your hand as you continue to cry

after he’s done, he’d cling to you and hold you SO very tight <3

lots of “shh shh baby.. baby shhhh” and all that jazz.. you know the sungie vibes…

he’d stroke your hair and arms, noticing your slight shakiness and suggesting you both cuddle for some extra comfort and warmth

no matter what time of night it is, he’d turn off the lights and cuddle with you as you describe the event in more detail

quiet & calm

even if you end up crying again while you speak, he’s there to brush the tears off your face with his thumb and help you calm down again

◈ FELIX

before you came, he might have cooked a small meal for the two of you to share. even though you worked late, it’d still be waiting for you when you arrive. he’d wait too.

when you do happen to burst through the door, he’d jump and gasp out of fear but he’s quick to run up to you and hold you as you let out everything you’d held in during your walk-turned-chase

also !! will help you get settled in as you describe what went down

helping you take off your coat and shoes, getting water for you, grabbing some blankets; all while listening intently and giving you all of his attention

once you’re seated on the couch, wrapped in the softest blanket he could find and staying hydrated after such a harrowing event, he’d be sure to hold you as close as possible to remind you that everything’s okay

eventually, through his subtle gestures and calming demeanor, you won’t even realize how you got situated !! he just knows what to do to make you as comfortable as possible without even trying all that hard

you may choose to skip dinner, but no matter what, he’ll be holding you close the whole night through to make sure you know he’s there to protect and care for you

◈ SEUNGMIN

he’s very methodical about how to proceed. his first instinct is to do what some of the others would and check the house, but he decides to help you calm down first.

you’re rambling about what happened in between sobs and quick breaths, which sends a pain through his heart as he shuts and locks the door.

if you’re shorter than him, he’d bend a little to make direct eye contact with you. he’ll rub your arms and tell you that you don’t have to be afraid anymore

the most calming and reassuring voice in the whole world omg !!!!!!

he’d wipe your tears away and cup your face with both of his hands, prompting you to look back into his eyes before smiling at you

“you’re safe now, right?”

you smile back at him, nodding.

“now, let’s lock all the doors so no bad guys can get in!”

then, he’d take your hand and let you help him lock the doors and shut the curtains, making it feel like a chore instead of a precaution

and for your “good work”, he’d reward you with some binge watching & cuddle time !!! (as if that wasn’t the original plan skjdfg)

◈ JEONGIN

(under his breath, eyes wide) “oh my god…”

i think he’d start freaking out a bit like hyunjin did, but he’d do his very best to hide it. he knows he has to be strong to help you calm down and feel safe.

like felix, he’d help you take off your coat and shoes, leading you over to the couch as you shakily describe what happened.

(i’m sorry i keep making comparisons to the other members bUT) like minho, he’d hold your hands in his, rubbing them softly with his thumbs to soothe your nerves as you let everything out

he’d try to cheer you up by suggesting alternative motives the man might’ve had instead of wanting to harm you

for instance:

jeongin: “what if he was lost and needed directions but he was too shy to ask because you’re so pretty/handsome?”

you: “babe i don’t think-”

jeongin: “OR what if he thought he knew you !!”

you: “but he-”

jeongin: “WHAT IF IT WAS BATMAN-”

overall, his aim is to distract you (as well as himself), which ends in success. you’ll both be in stitches by the end of the night

and… laughing is super tiring, right?

therefore, as reiterated throughout all of these reactions because we all know it’s true:

CUDDLESSSS

oh also.. right before you fall asleep in his arms, he’d ask if you want to leave the light on during the night :( bc he’s a cutie :((((

tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17​, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @thatrandomoneinthecorner, @cyberskz​, @seungminsaidsta, @somethingrandomworld, @ethan806 ( join my tag list !! )

©️ cotccotc 2021 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[ackerfics]

i haven't really seen you write much of angst so i was wondering...what are your favourite angst tropes? especially when it comes to levi ofc

ooooh, i like reading angst but i can't seem to write it without crying or feeling like i need to tweak the ending a little bit to not torture myself. but, since you asked so nicely, anon, i'll gladly tell you my favorite angst tropes. this can be related to levi bc let's face it: levi + angst + canonverse ??? pure torture.

— major character death : [deep inhale] this never fails to make me cry like i just received the worst mark in one subject. (a little fact, i failed one of my classes in high school so imagine the tears. yikes.) this is so good especially if it's executed so well that i can feel my tears flowing without me realizing it. i remember the sleepless nights of burying in my blanket while reading a fic where somebody died and it was so ugly. i looked so ugly crying my heart out.

— unrequited love that is actually requited but again one maybe died or just has their priorities straight : the number of levi fics that i read with this one is just 😫, most of the fics that i read with him pushes his love interest away the moment he realizes his feelings for them. no matter what au it is. and it always leads to a supposed unrequited love. it frustrates me so much bc these characters deserve a happy ending but bc of uncalled circumstances, they can't act on their feelings. maybe it's the fear of commitment or the promise of death – nevertheless, it pisses me off.

— hanahaki au that leads to death : wowie, i am a mess when it comes to this. flowers are my weakness but flowers and their connotations to death by coughing them out, it physically hurts me. you can never go wrong with hanahaki aus. i admire the writers who craft their works around this theme bc they do it so beautifully. you guys are the mvps.

— the journey of being friends to lovers to people on opposing sides : imagine having to face the love of your life in a war, both of you wearing different uniforms and all that jazz 😭. this breaks my heart bc you've seen them grow together as people, heal themselves with their love for each other, only for it to break bc of differing perspectives. sometimes, it's not against their will, too. you just want them to be happy but bc they grew up knowing a truth that was hidden from them or a thirst for vengeance, it all goes down to shit. levi with this trope but with a marleyan soldier, i might drive a dagger on myself.

— somewhat similar to the last one but forbidden love : a knight and a royal. a pious worshipper and their deity. a commoner and a noble. two people on different sides of the spectrum, with their love having no hope in surfacing for the world to see. i am weak for that.

— betrayal and miscommunication : sometimes it's mankind's stupidity that drives us crazy so this trope makes me so angry and devastated at the same time that my mother had to ask why i am screaming like a dying whale.

these are all i can think of, anon !! there will come a day when i can write some of these freely without acting like my dog just died 😭. have an amazing day or night there, ily !!

[witch-city]

leap of faith

marvel masterlist | marvel headcanons | navigation

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 717 words

a/n: first nat fic! yay! also, i ofc had to do something nice with her (cuz she's dead lmao sorry). enjoy :)

warnings: literally none, this is pure fluff

requests are open!

Today was finally the day. You had been planning this for what felt like your entire life. Though it wasn't your original intention, everything just came together as if it were meant to be. Perhaps it was meant to be. That's what you thought anyways.

It was a brisk morning in upstate New York when your plan would finally come into play. You woke up early and began getting ready, picking out your clothes and setting them on a chair in the corner of your bedroom. As you got out of the shower and headed back into the room you shared with your girlfriend, Natasha, you watched as she sat up, rubbing her tired green eyes.

"Morning, baby. Get up, I'm taking you to breakfast," you whispered to her before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. Groggily, she got out of bed and headed straight into the bathroom.

Nearly half an hour later, both of you were dressed and ready to go. So, with an ocean of nervousness in your head and a small box in your pocket, you led her to the car.

"What's the occasion?"

"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to get out of the complex and spend some time with you."

Nat smiled at your explanation, her eyes lingering on you as you pulled out of the parking lot and drove away. You were pretty quiet on the drive, but you just had so much on your mind. You could barely concentrate on driving, much less having a conversation. Nevertheless, the two of you just relished in each others' presence.

Pulling into the lot at Tibbets Point Lighthouse, you and Nat stepped out of the car. "We had our first date here...and last time I checked, there isn't a breakfast place around here. What are we really doing?" You refused to answer her question and instead took her hand, leading her out towards the water.

In the sand was a grouping of rocks in the shape of a heart. Each one was painted differently, some with intricate designs and others with simple shapes. Once you stood inside the heart, you took her hands in yours, taking a deep breath. It was finally time to that that final jump, that leap of faith.

"Natasha, I brought you here on our first date, and we kissed right here on the beach. It was all pretty weird considering we hated each other in the beginning. But despite that, against all odds, here we are." She looked deep into your eyes, desperately trying to figure out what you were doing, why you were saying all of this.

"You know, when you and I first met, I thought to myself, no way in hell could I ever fall for a woman like that," you dropped one of her hands, reaching to grab the little box in your back pocket. "But again, here we are."

Taking a deep breath, you dropped her other hand and said, "When we first began dating, you told me that you need faith to survive, otherwise, you have nothing. I think I'm ready to take that leap of faith. With you." You got down onto one knee, cradling the now open box with the utmost care. Inside was a beautiful ring with a simple, yet breathtaking diamond.

"Natasha Romanoff, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She didn't waste any time to answer, practically squeaking out an overjoyed "yes!" With that, you jumped up and pulled her into a tight hug, so incredibly happy for her to have said 'yes.' After a moment of pure joy, she pulled away, looking at the ring still nestled comfortably in the box. You gently picked it up, taking her left hand and sliding it onto her ring finger.

Once you finally looked up from her hand, you saw a tear rush down her cheek. And of course, that made you cry too. The redhead pulled you back into a tight hug, each of you crying the happiest tears into the other's shoulder.

"I love you."

"If words could express how much I love you, I wouldn't have to do this," she replied, pressing her soft lips to yours as she placed a hand on your cheek. Nothing could be more perfect than this.

[wiypt-writes]

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

 Ransom Drysdale One Shot

Summary: It’s the Annual Pre-Easter meal at the Thrombey’s and Ransom and you are in attendance. As usual, there’s fireworks, a lot of swearing and there’s only one way you know he can get rid of his frustrations…

 Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  So this was originally written last year for @jennmurawski13​ who requested a smutty one shot with an Evans character of my choice for her birthday. It was coined from a Brainstorming sesh me and @icanfeelastormbrewing​ had for our intended Ransom x OFC series (we might get round to it in 2022…so by then you’ll have forgotten if we use it again.) FYI Eighteen year old Ransom is totally Bryce from Fierce People, you can’t convince me otherwise… I also very much now see this being the same Reader as in mine, @ohthankevans13​ and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​’s  Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale series.

Your brown leather, knee high Saint Laurent boots (a gift from the man whose lap you were curled up on) were on the floor by your feet leaving you in your grey, woollen over-knee socks. One of your boyfriend’s large hands was resting on your left shin, the other just at the top of your right thigh, almost on your ass cheek. You were well aware your black sweater dress was riding up so went to shift and shimmy it down a little, conscious that you were, after all, sat in the large drawing room at his grandfather’s house whilst the rest of his family milled around as the pre-Easter dinner, which always took place the weekend before the actual holiday, was being prepared.

“You okay?” Ransom looked up at you, noticing you shift on his lap and you smiled.

“Yeah, just don’t want to flash everyone too much if you get my drift.”

Ransom cocked an eyebrow at you, then peeked around the room, before he gave a snort as his eyes fell on his cousin Jacob who was watching the pair of you.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want Adolf junior getting a boner now would we?”

You gave a chuckle as you re-arranged your dress, making yourself more comfortable.

“He’s just a kid, Ran.” You soothed.

“He’s a deviant, Princess.” He replied, his voice quiet.

“So were you when I first met you.” You grinned, looking at him as you bent closer to whisper into his ear “Still are when the mood takes you.”

Ransom pulled back to look at you, his face inches from yours, his eyebrow raising slightly as that dirty smirk spread across his handsome face. “Stop it.” He warned, and you shrugged innocently, as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Come on son, put her down.” Richard’s voice rang across the room and instantly you felt Ransom’s entire demeanour change. Gone was the relaxed, jokey, happy Ran you knew and loved and in his place was Hugh Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire.

“Piss off, Father.” He shot back, his head moving back from yours, fixing his dad with a steely glare.

“Hey.” Richard glowered “Don’t speak to me like that…” he turned to Linda. “Did you hear that Linda?”

“Ransom…” Linda said lazily, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t speak to your father like that.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and you gently looked at him, shaking your head, silently telling him to stay calm. It was always the same with the Thrombey family gatherings. Ransom despised them for the simple fact that Harlan was the only one he had any time for, bar his mother on a good day, and you were inclined to feel the same way. It always ended in chaos, each individual nuclear sects within the extended family trying to get one up on the other, prove they were the best players in the game.

Frankly, they made the fucking Lannisters look normal.  

All your friends were constantly asking you how you managed to stay tangled in this web of dysfunction, but the answer was right in front of you, his crystal blue eyes now narrowed as he shot a sarcastic reply back to his mother.

The simple truth was, you loved him and couldn’t walk away if you tried.

It hadn’t always been that way, mind. When your High School had been asked to submit nominations for the coveted position of Harlan Thrombey’s Summer research assistant, you’d been short listed along with 15 other candidates from the New England area. Each of you were asked to produce a five-thousand word thesis on a literary subject of your choice to be submitted for reading by Harlan. You’d been ecstatic when you received the call from his Publishing Company to say you’d made the final three and were requested to attend an interview.

You’d been and bought a new suit. Nothing fancy but decent enough quality. You made sure your hair was tamed, your make up was as on point as you could get it, and had driven the thirty minutes or so out to his mansion from the home you shared with your Nanna in Brookline, following the directions on your GPS to the area near Pierce Park where the Thrombey Mansion was located. You were greeted by his housekeeper and shown into the large office where the man himself was waiting. Harlan was nothing like you had expected him to be. He was eccentric, sure, but also dmaned good fun. He’d asked you a few questions about why you wanted the position “I’m going to major in English at college and I hope to work in publishing when I graduate, this would be an invaluable experience.” He had then discussed your paper with you and after a few more general questions he had reduced you almost to tears of laughter by telling you a about an incident when he had been at college and was almost caught climbing down the trellis of his girlfriend’s parent’s house following a late night rendezvous of the very naughty kind “Don’t think too badly of me, we ended up married for forty-seven years…”

Then, just as he was showing you out of his study a tall, well-built young man, your age you had correctly guessed, with a strong jaw, dark hair flicked to the left side of his forehead, and a pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen, waltzed down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of riding breeches, a polo shirt and wore a long pair of tan leather riding boots.

"Ransom?” Harlan looked at the young man “I wasn’t expecting you till this afternoon.”

“Yeah well, the fucking horse I should have been riding is lame.” Ransom shrugged “Which means I can’t ride, and I probably can’t compete this weekend.”

“Dressage?” you had asked, your mouth speaking well before your brain had engaged, for some reason thinking it was a good idea to comment. Ransom had looked at you with disdain, scanned you up and down and cocked his head to one side, his eyes cold as they locked onto yours.

“Polo.” He had answered, a sneer on his face “Do I look like a dressage rider to you? Mind you, from the state of your cheap high-street dress the nearest you’ve probably ever been to a horse is those shitty little trail rides they run at kids parties.”

“Ransom!” Harlan had snapped sternly “Enough!”

You felt the heat rise in your neck and cheeks, and you drew yourself up to your full height, folding your arms as you looked at the ass hole stood in front of you. One thing your Nanna had told you was that, despite your humble origins, you were as worthy as the next person, no matter how much money, status or self-importance they may have.

“My apologies. I always thought polo was played by arrogant, snobby, stuck up pricks.” You retorted as you made a show of looking him up and down in the same way he had done to you. “Actually, on second thoughts, I should have guessed.”

As soon as the words were out of your mind you let out an internal groan. Way to go, flush your chance of landing this summer internship down the fucking toilet by insulting Harlan’s grandson. Nevertheless, you held the gaze of the man in front of you who stared back, his expression and face utterly stoic bar the blink of surprise his eyes made.

You heard Harlan chuckle behind you and the old man dropped a hand to your shoulder. “Fran, could you see Miss Y/L/N to the door.”

Two days later Harlan had personally called you to offer you the position, and it had turned out to be everything you ever wanted, and more. Three weeks into your internship, to your utter surprise, Harlan confessed that he had been looking to fund a worthy, local candidate through college and as the successful applicant it was yours for the taking. Some strings had been pulled, and in the last week of September thanks to his generosity you started your English Major at Harvard.

And so did Ransom.

He pursued you with a dogged determination, seemingly viewing your indifference towards him and his advances as some kind of challenge. You weren’t fooling yourself, however. He was devastatingly handsome and your traitorous vagina and that part of your brain that controlled your libido harboured a deep desire to fuck his brains out, a desire you finally gave into at the end of your first year when, following your final exam, you got drunk and woke up the morning after in his bed.

It wasn’t all puppies and roses though. You were on and off more than his boxer shorts, as simply put, Ransom was a player. And it didn’t bother you to start with. He was a hook up, a way to relieve tension when you needed to, and he was a very handy person to know with his seemingly endless network of connections. But by the time you graduated you knew you were head over heels for him, and needed to break this seeming cycle of being in and out of his bed.  So you turned down Harlan’s offer of a job at Blood Like Wine and were ready to move away from Boston after landing a job at a publishers in Manhattan…but then your nanna had been taken seriously ill and suffered a stroke meaning you had to stay.

As a result of her illness, your nanna was unable to live in your house in Brookline alone and so you were forced to sell it so she could afford to move into a supervised Retirement Village a five minute or so drive away. You were now jobless, drowning with the house-sale which would leave you homeless, and your emotions and been all over the place. You had no other family since your Grandfather had died at the start of your senior year so had no one to turn to.

Enter Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

You’d called him one evening, drunk and emotional and needing a release and he came over alright, but instead of fucking you into the mattress he made sure you drank water, ate something, and then got you into bed. The next morning, Harlan had shown up, telling you the job offer at his company was still open, and then to your utter surprise and initial horror he had offered to buy your nanna’s house, meaning you could remain there as a tenant. At first you had refused, insisting you weren’t a charity case but Harlan had simply waved your concerns away by insisting it was an investment. After a little discussion he agreed to allow you to pay rent which, all things considered, was a pittance in comparison to what other properties the same size in that area commanded but it was a rent nonetheless and made you feel better.

And you knew all of it had ben Ransom’s idea.

This was the side to Ransom he very rarely displayed to anyone. A softer side, a caring side, a gentle side. A side that held you as you cried at the thought that your nanna was growing old and may soon leave you behind, a side that made you a sandwich when you hadn’t eaten in days, a side that helped you pack up and move your Nana’s stuff to her new home, a side that turned up at 9pm with several tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine after you’d messaged him earlier that afternoon to tell him what a shit day you were having when his Uncle Walt was being a dick at work.

The rest, they say is history. History which meant you were now curled up in his lap some eight or so years post that initial meeting in the hallway of this very house, listening to him bicker with his family, feeling his leg beginning to shake in that way it always did when he was agitated.

“Ran…” you said gently, squeezing his arm and you felt him take a deep breath and he looked at you, his mouth closing as you shook your head “Don’t.”

He turned away, looking to the other side of the room and his face glowered as he spotted Jacob once more had his eyes trained on your bare thigh. God the pubescent creep did his fucking head in, and if he stayed here he was going to end up putting the lanky streak of shit through the wall.

“Can we go?” Ransom looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

“Please.”

That single word was enough to make you understand. It was a word he hadn’t learned until he’d met you, when he realised that his demands and arrogance got him nowhere with you. He still rarely used it mind, but when he did, you knew he was in desperate need of what he’d asked for.

“How about we take a walk?” You suggested “If you still wanna go after then we will”

He took a deep breath as he considered what you had said. Compromise was another word that hadn’t been in his vocabulary until you. His eyes locked onto yours and you looked at him, encouragingly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

“Okay.”

You uncurled yourself from his lap and stood up, him following so you could sit down and place you boots on.

“Are you leaving?” Linda asked, looking up for the first time.

“For a walk.” Ransom said simply, grabbing your hand and pretty much dragging you from the room. He didn’t say a word as he reached the coat stand and retrieved your lightweight Ted Baker belted mac, holding it out for you to slip your arms into, in a display of chivalry he reserved only for you. Once you’d done it up, he took your hand in his and you headed through the kitchen and outside into the reasonably mild April afternoon.

“Don’t let them get to you.” You said softly, leaning into him a little and he sighed, untangling his fingers from yours so he could drop his arm round your shoulders. He hated the fact his family could make him feel like this, like he wasn’t in control, like he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He could quite happily go without seeing any of them, well, bar maybe his grandfather, but you had told him he would regret it if he pushed them away completely because you had always wished you’d had a large family unit like that. So, despite the fact he knew deep down that was a load of bullshit, he played the game. He attended the damned gatherings more for your benefit than any as you adored Harlan and seemed to get on fairly well with Joni, Meg and his mother. He hung onto a glimmer of hope that maybe one day it would all change and he’d feel part of it.

But it never did. And he never did.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence across the Mansion grounds, round the lake where Ransom stopped by the small pier, looking out over the water.

“You know my most vivid childhood memories are of this spot.” He mused, his gaze focussed over the lake “Grammy used to bring me down here to feed the ducks.”

“It’s beautiful down here.” You agreed, snuggling further under his arm. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah unlike that fucking house.”

You gave a chuckle, as his hand curled over your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth material of your coat. He was agitated, you could tell, and there were very few ways in which he could calm down when he was like this. One was riding his beloved BB- a polo horse Harlan had bought him for his 21st, one was the pair of you curling up on the sofa with snacks and a good scotch or bourbon, getting drunk and watching Trashy Films, in particular horrors-you both loved to pick plot holes and insult the main characters, declaring the victim a dumb bitch for running up the stairs and not out of the door and the other, well…

You glanced around, checking you were alone before you pulled away from him, taking his hand and tugging on it slightly.

“What?” he asked looking down.

“Come on.” You gave his hand another pull.

“Y/N?” he questioned again, but followed nonetheless despite you not answering. You tugged him away from the lake, into the thin thicket of trees a little further round. You could still see the house here but you knew there was no way anyone from up there could see you.

“Seriously, Y/N what the fuck?” he groaned, as he stepped in the slightly squelchy mud “You’re gonna ruin my Gucci’s…” “Should have worn something a little more substantial then shouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t know you were planning on going fucking hiking in the fucking woods.”

“That’s not what we’re doing.” You said, stopping in front of a large oak tree, looking up at him.

“Then what are we doing? Reconnecting with Mother Nature? Or are we on the hunt for Oberon, Titania and Puck?”

“Ooh, good Shakespeare reference.” You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes as you slid your hand up over his navy blue lightweight Barbour jacket which was done up to his sternum, leaving his plain white, Armani t-shirt slightly visible at the neckline. “Does that make us Lysander and Hermia?”

“You got a hidden suitor called Demetrius I don’t know about?” he arched an eyebrow, his hands falling to your hips.

“Nope, I’m all yours Tiger.”

The sound of your ridiculous nickname for him drew a large smile across his face and he shook his head, giving a genuine chuckle. Here, with you there were no annoying voices to listen to, no family politics, nothing to care about but the gentle brush of the wind as it blew through the canopy of trees above your heads and the faint sounds of birds as they went about their business and Ransom felt a sense of comfort. Because you were his rock. The one person that saw through his bull shit, the woman in his life that knew all his horrible personality traits as well as his slightly less horrible ones and loved him all the same. The girl that had rounded off his harsher edges no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

You were his better half for sure.

“Well that’s good, because I don’t like sharing.” Ransom smirked, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t I know it.” You mused against his mouth. His fingers flexed on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him control over the kiss, knowing that’s what he craved when he was like this. His lips were soft on yours, tongue domineering as he kissed you deeply, slowly. Eventually he pulled back, his nose bumping yours slightly as he gave a little chuckle.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from those shit heads in the house.” He said, his tone playful and you loved playful Ransom. Another side to him only you really got to see.

“Is it working?” You played along.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips pressing to yours again.

“Good. Now why don’t you let your inner deviant come out to play?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Princess.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he had pressed you into the harsh, earthy bark of the tree behind you, kissing you hard again, groaning as you palmed his crotch through his designer denims. He grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head before he did the same with the other one, easily holding both in place above you with one large hand, his other softly tracing up the outside of your thigh, fingers skating under your skirt.

“Is this why you wore this?” he smirked, toying with the material slightly. “So you could tempt me away for a fuck in the woods?”

It wasn’t, it was because it looked and felt good, but you decided to play along “Maybe. Was it a good choice?”

“Damned right it was…” he growled against your mouth, his long, soft fingers sliding your lace panties to the side. His index finger traced a path up your slit and you gasped at the feeling as he gently began to toy with you. Soft, teasing touches, his eyes never once leaving yours. That was one of his things, he liked to see your face, watch as your expressions changed as he undid you, fuelling his ego. Your hips gently started to move in time to his strokes as he played you, like an instrument from which he could always draw a tune. And in no time at all, he was listening to the music as you let out a soft keen, a purr almost as your head fell back against the tree, your mouth parting slightly.

“Like that?” he asked, and it was all you could do to nod, panting brokenly as the familiar feeing began to rise in the pit of your stomach, the fire growing hotter and hotter. “God you’re a fucking minx. Come on, cum on my fingers, you know you want to.” And you did, hard, your knees trembling, as you let out a loud cry of his name as the lights exploded in front of your eyes. Ransom pressed into you, his erection evident as it dug into your stomach, keeping you pinned between him and the tree as he coaxed you through your orgasm, before he moved his hands, allowing yours to drop to his shoulders as you held onto him tightly.

The clanging of a belt buckle, then the zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric broke through the post-orgasm haze as Ransom undid his flies, reaching into pull out his painfully hard cock. He gently pushed forward, sliding the tip against your folds, gathering your slick as you gave a moan, the feeling of him sliding against your clit sent lances of red, hot desire through your veins.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs as he pulled you off the ground and you hooked them round his slim waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. In a swift, fluid moment, no teasing, no gentle ease, he buried himself inside you with a deep thrust making you cry out as he filled you. His lips crashed onto yours as he drew back, then thrust back in hard, his cock dragging against your walls inside, hitting that spot that he knew would leave you seeing stars.

Yes, if there was one thing on this Earth Ransom knew he was good at, it was fucking you.

His lips traced a path from your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to, his hips moving back and forth in a slow but deep pace which was torture, and you needed more.

“Ran, harder…” You groaned, digging your heels into his ass and he gave a dirty moan of his own as his hands held your hips.

“You’re such a needy little slut.” He smirked against your lips, not waiting for your reply as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth with a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of you again and again. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you kissed him, teeth clashing together as your back repeatedly brushed against the harsh, rough surface behind you as you clawed desperately at the material of his jacket.

It wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm brewing and your head fell forward, teeth nipping at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Your hands moved into his hair and you pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up you.

“Fuck, Y/N….” he groaned, the pupils of his eyes blown wide with a desire you would never tire of seeing. You pushed your hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and you let out an almost primal cry, the noise you made simply revving him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck Ran…” you moaned as your head rolled back against the tree, hands back on his shoulders, as once more that snake in your belly moved. Ransom felt the tell-tale flutter of your heat tightening round him and he continued his voracious pace, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You feel so fucking good…” he panted “So fuckin’ good Princess...”

His words made you moan again, and he pushed up once more, stilling slightly, grinding up against you as opposed to thrusting and a few rolls of his hips later you were done. The world faded around you as you came hard, with a loud scream before your head dropped to his shoulder, as you moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through your orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Y/N…I’m…fuck…” his words tumbled into your hair as his movements became desperate and he came a short while later with a loud yell. You felt him fill you up, as his hips stilled and he groaned, face buried into your neck, his chest heaving, sweat beaded both his brow and yours as he simply pressed into you, panting and shaking.

Neither of you had any idea how long you stayed like that, but eventually Ransom managed to gain enough control to pull his softening cock out of you and set you gently on your feet as he brushed the tendrils of your hair that had fallen over your face back with a tenderness he reserved only for you. He said nothing, simply looked at you, his lips gently greeting yours in a soft, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones you had shared moments before. You smiled at him, unadulterated love in your eyes as you moved your hands to brush his hair back before you leaned up and kissed him again, your nose sliding against his.

“I adore you Hugh Ransom Drysdale. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t fucking call me Hugh.” He grumbled and you chuckled as he pulled you to him, nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. “But for the record, the feeling is mutual Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N.”

You gave a laugh and were about to reply when you felt his head snap up, and his entire body tense and he let out an angry cry causing you to jump.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! The perverted little shit!”

“Ran?” You saw his face contorted in anger as he pushed back from you, striding away from the tree, rearranging his jeans as he went before he broke into a sprint. You watched him go and then, to your horror, saw the retreating back of a smaller male running away from the thicket of trees on the curve of the bank to your left and you felt yourself grow cold.

Jacob.

How long he had been there Ransom had no idea but he chased the little fucker all the way to the house, yelling insults and threats as he burst into the kitchen. Ransom finally caught up with him just as he ran into the hall and grabbed the kid by the collar, spinning him round and pinning him to the wall, arm crossed over his windpipe. “Enjoy the show did we?!” He yelled, the noise drawing the rest of the family out from the sitting room into the tiled hallway. Walt started to shout angry threats about what he was going to do to Ransom if he didn’t take his hands off his son, which then sparked Richard to bite back at Walt saying if he touched Ransom he’d give him a damned good hiding. If Ransom hadn’t been so focussed on the dirt little bastard he had pinned to the wall he would have laughed because the idea of his dad fighting anyone was hilarious, he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

“Give me your phone.” Ransom demanded.

“I didn’t…” “GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW YOU PERVERTED PRICK!” Ransom yelled, and reached into Jacob’s pocket, grabbing his hand where it was curled around the offending item, bending the boy’s fingers back. Jacob gave a yell, pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and Ransom seized the phone, yanking it out, just as you walked into the hallway.

He looked at you, then to Jacob and saw you pale as the realisation washed over you that you’d not only been seen but recorded or snapped, by a twelve year old boy nonetheless.

“Unlock it.” Ransom demanded, thrusting it back at him.

“Now listen here…” Walt started until Harlan turned to him.

“Walt, shut up.” He barked, turning to Jacob “Unlock the phone, now Jake.”

Jacob sullenly took the phone from Ransom and did has he was told, Ransom snatching it back. He glanced down at the screen, flicking to the Gallery and let out an angry noise as he saw not only footage of you both in the woods but ten or so photos of your bare thigh and close ups where he had attempted to see up your skirt when you had been on his knee before. Thankfully from the snaps there wasn’t really anything visible, but still the fact he had even taken them in the first place made Ransom apoplectic with rage.

“You dirty little prick.” he mumbled, looking back up at him. Jacob visibly recoiled under Ransom’s glare.

“Ran?” You questioned as you gently touched his arm and he tilted the phone so you could see the screen and your eyes widened, your entire body growing warm as you saw the close up of your thigh on the screen.

“How the fuck dare you?” You exploded, glaring at Jacob.

“Can you explain what he has supposedly done?” Donna, Jacob’s mother spoke for the first time and you turned to face her, your pretty features contorted in rage.

“He’s…” You shook your head “Taken photos of me, before up my skirt.”

Noise erupted in the hallway, Joni and Meg screaming about you being violated, Richard and Linda yelling at Walt and Donna whilst Harlan shook his head, making a noise of disgust. Ransom ignored them all as he selected the photos and images, deleting them, and showing it to you.

“Gone, Princess.” He turned the screen off before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“Look, he’s a teenage boy…” Donna was protesting “He’s a bit curious…”

“He’s a dirty bastard.” Richard snorted and the irony wasn’t lost on Ransom as he’d seen his father eyeing you up on more than one occasion. He looked at his dad, eyebrow raised as Jacob bit back at the dig.

“I’m a dirty bastard?” The pre-teen snapped, his eyes flicking from Richard to Ransom “I’m not the one that was having sex against a tree!”

Everyone paused and their heads turned to you and Ransom. You gave a groan, your hands sliding up to your face to hide your utter embarrassment, but besides you Ransom’s expression never changed because, well frankly, he couldn’t give two shits about everyone knowing what you had been up to.

“I’m a grown ass man.” He snarled “If I wanna fuck my girl outside on private property I will”

He held Jacob’s phone out to him, but as Jacob went to take it Ransom opened his hand, dropped it to the floor with a loud “oops” and stomped on it, the metal and glass crunching under the heel of his expensive, leather boots.

There was more yelling, and Ransom simply turned, taking your hand in his. “We’re leaving.”

This time you didn’t argue. The pair of you walked away, ignoring the screaming which grew fainter as you headed down towards the large front doors, only to hear Harlan calling after you. Ransom stopped, took a deep breath and tuned to face his grandfather.

“Y/N are you ok?”

“Of course she’s not.” Ransom snapped but you gently squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

“I’m okay Harlan, thank you. But I think its best we go before Ransom commits murder.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not far off killing the little turd myself.” Harlan shook his head, sighing. He then took a deep breath, looked at Ransom, and there was a flash of something which you knew only too well to be amusement in his eyes. “Which tree?”

Ransom frowned “What?”

“I asked which tree you two were doing the naughty against.”

You groaned as Ransom blinked and then shrugged “Just in the thicket to the south side of the lake, near the little jetty. Why?”

“Well, instead of barking up the wrong tree so to speak, next time stick to the North side.” Harlan grinned cheekily “It’s in the dip and no chance you can be spotted by anyone unless they’re a foot or so away.”

Ransom’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he looked at his grandfather then to you.

Meanwhile you simply wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

Harlan bid the two of you goodbye as you headed out to Ransom’s Beemer. He stopped just besides it, turning to you, his hands falling to your hips again. “Well, I don’t know about you, Sweetheart, but all that excitement has made me a bit hungry. Seeing as we’re not getting dinner here, how about I take you to Asta?”

Your face lit up at the mention of your favourite restaurant and you gave an eager nod before you frowned “Aren’t we a little underdressed? And it’s Saturday evening, we’ll never get in.”

“Baby girl, enough money can get us in anywhere, and you look fine.” He said, dropping a kiss to your lips before he grinned “You might wanna brush the twigs outta your hair though.”

[dracosaurusrex]

i love ur writing!!! can u maybe do a hc where its post war! draco x reader where they get married right, then reader gets pregnant with scorpius!! and its like them taking care of him, seeing him growing up and sending him off to hogwarts etc etc yk? also u dont have to do this ofc 🤍!!

Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy) 🌱 - Headcanon

Pairing: Draco x Reader

Hi nonnie!! I’m sorry it took me a while to get to this. Besides being occupied with schoolwork, I thoroughly had to think about how Draco would be as a father. I hope you enjoy!! It’s a lil long too aha.

PS. Kudos to you if you know where the title comes from aha

When Draco found out you were pregnant, there was no containment to the pure joy he had felt in the moment

Tears of joy brimmed his eyes

Crushing embraces

Playful kisses transitioned to more passionate ones as he poured out his love for you

Despite the years following the end of the war, he still didn’t feel deserving of you

Furthermore, he didn’t feel deserving of parenting a child with you

But one thing he was certain of was that he didn’t want to be anything like his father.

The very thought chilled him and struck fear to his bones

“Draco, you’ll make a great father” you say constantly. Each time you do so wrapping him in a warm embrace

It surprised you seeing him cry for the first time as he cradled your growing bump

“Do you think he can hear me?” He’d ask

You nodding as you wiped the tears rolling down his face

“I don’t want him to grow up like I did.”

“Love, we wouldn’t be here if you didn’t go through any of it.”

More silent tears and kisses to your bump

“I’ll do my best for you and your mother, I promise.”

Him kissing your bump one last time

“We’ll do our best for each other” you reassure

-🌱- 

There’s no end to him showing you how much he loves you.

The morning sickness, weird cravings, the aches and pains—this man spoiled you and made sure you were comfortable as much as possible

Happy wife = happy life

You both taking turns to tell the baby in your womb stories

Draco playing the piano with you and the baby by his side

You’d be cuddling as you both thought of names

Him opting to follow Black tradition and use names from constellations

“If it’s a girl, it should be Maia Altair. Both are the brightest stars within their respective constellations.” He said.

“How about Lyra Celeste?”

“That’s pretty too. Goodness, I hope it’s not a girl. We’d have a hard time choosing.” He says jokingly, making you chuckle.

“How about for a boy?” You ask

“I was thinking along the lines of Scorpius... I can’t seem to think up of a middle name”

“How about Hyperion?”

“Scorpius Hyperion?” His eyes widened for a moment, “That’s perfect.”

He didn’t mind whether you’d give birth to a boy or a girl—he wanted to give his children the best whether that’d be values, or material possessions

-🌱-

Being a private family meant a gender reveal and baby shower with just the two of you.

You hand the photo of the ultrasound to him faced down

“We’re having a boy, Draco.”

Hearts pounding.

Smiles wide

Draco’s sight was transfixed on the small formation printed on the page for a bit before looking at you again

The moment reminded you of the first time you said “I love you” to one another

He presses a tender loving kiss to your lips as you wrap your arms around his torso.

The next couple of months pass quickly

Life is still happy coz wife is still happy

There’s look comprising fear and awe when Draco laid his eyes on the newborn baby boy in your arms

“May I hold him?”

You hand Scorpius to him with tears in your eyes

Scorpius being so small that he doesn’t even occupy half of Draco’s forearm

“Welcome Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, my son” He says softly, tears following soon after yours did

-🌱-

Raising Scorpius was similar to walking on a tightrope, but even if you both fell at times, it was never hard enough to keep you down

He was a sweet boy, an obedient son

He took after Draco’s appearance: platinum hair, pointed face, and he sported a warm pair of grey eyes

But he bore your kind and compassionate personality, which Draco adored

Regardless of how much of your personality he inherited, Scorpius still had his father’s attitude sometimes, much to your amusement and shock

Draco spoiling him throughout his youth

You dressing Scorpius up

Both of you teaching the boy human decency towards witches, wizards, and muggles alike

One thing Draco made certain as a father was to make sure that Scorpius knew he was welcome to talk to his parents about anything

While you’d speak of matters of the heart, Draco would do his best to speak on matters of logic and reasoning

No matter what, you did your very best to make known to the young Malfoy that he was loved.

-🌱-

Time spent together as a family occupied the best memories of your lives

While Scorpius was growing and learning new things, you and Draco were learning (and growing) alongside him

When he was five years old, having finished his daily lessons, he walked  amongst the vast halls of the mansion, knowing exactly where his parents would be

First checks the library to find Draco focused in his study

“Papa?” He calls out with a small voice

“Yes Scorp? Have you finished your studies for today?”

“Yes, father. May I sit with you?”

That was the day that Draco introduced his own passions to his son.

The little boy on his lap looks at the book in front of him with awe as Draco tells him stories of constellations and alchemy

“That’s how we named you.”

“My name is Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!” The sound of pride ringing from his little voice strikes a chord in Draco’s heart

He kisses the top of his head

“Yes, we’re are Malfoy’s”

“And mama?”

“Mama, is Y/N Y/M/N Malfoy.” He says with his heart fluttering.

The sound of your name never fails to reduce his insides to mush.

He then removes himself to find you painting the white peacocks that scattered the lawn

“Mama, what are you doing?”

“I’m painting love. Do you want to see?” You kiss his cheek as you gather him into your arms to give him a view of your work

“I want to learn how to do that!” 

“And what is it would you like to paint first?”

“The skies in papa’s books!”

-🌱-

As much as possible, you hid small arguments and issues from Scorpius

You and Draco had established three rules when confronting road bumps in your marriage:

Communicate needs and feelings

Give one another space when needed

Never go to bed with issues unresolved

The openness you taught your son, would be put into practice between you both

Fortunately, you being with Draco for more than ten years meant that you’ve practically seen him at his lowest points

He learned how to be vulnerable to you, and was your shoulder to cry on when needed

Nevertheless, each issue was resolved with a kiss, and something a little more *wink wink* (Scorpius would already be in bed dw)

Draco would catch himself staring at you in the kitchen one day, feeling the same way he would when he’d stare at you in your potions class

The smile you give when you notice him never changed

Scorpius taking note of this calls his dad out

“Papa, why do you love mama?” 

“She’s my best friend, Scorpius.” 

“I love mama too!”

You were the rock to your little family of three, and the older man would wonder how he became so lucky every time he thought about it.

-🌱-

Time flew by real fast in the manor. Before you know it, Scorpius turned eleven, and received his letter to Hogwarts

Robes? Check

Books? Check

Quills? Parchment? Check

Cauldron and other items? Check

Excited and nervous Scorpius Malfoy? Check.

“Papa, mama, what if no one likes me?”

Draco takes the first and last say before you can even open your mouth

“Just be yourself Scorp, and you’ll be fine.”

The platform bustling with sounds of old and new students alike

You see the Potter’s and the Weasley’s from afar and give a small wave

Draco, acting like a git, only gives a nod when you nudge his side with your elbow

Scorpius is the first to move away from his father’s side to introduce himself 

“Hi! I’m Scorpius Malfoy!” He says with a toothy grin

Albus’s eyes sparkle at a new friend, “I’m Albus Potter! This is Rose Weasley! We’re both first years!”

“Me too! Can I sit with you on the train?”

The exchange throws both Harry and Draco into a spiral, leaving you, Ginny, and Hermione thoroughly amused for the day.

“Albus- he”, 

“S-Scor-”

Both fathers are ignored.

But the happy grins they see on their sons faces calms them down slightly

The time comes for the train to take off

Draco wraps his arms around you as you wipe the tears forming 

It was a miracle that the little boy grew up to be a kind, intelligent, and talented young man. 

In that moment, Draco has never felt so grateful for his family

I apologize for the length. It’s kinda chaotic, but I hope you enjoyed reading it hehe. Thank you so much for all your support!

Tagging:

@amithatemo @littlethie @drxcomvlfx @svturtles @stretchyice @xoxohollands @dracosathenaeum @hahee154hq @mushi98 @dreaming-about-fanfictions @beiahadid @Saby06143 @rottenhexrt

[annasmc]

Hi, sorry for bothering you if ur busy. But could you possibly do a headcanon with the Obey Me! Brothers reacting to their Stone-Cold Face! S/O and their best friend having crackhead moments? I hope this make sense and happy holiday 🤗

Okay this is probably kinda late but here we go

Also feel free to leave an ask anytime

And Happy Holidays :) to you and to everyone

The Brothers reacting their Stone-Cold Faced S/O Having a Crackhead Moment

Lucifer

Well this is a surprise,

He’s quite amused to see this side of his s/o but at the same time ashamed

They better not act this way in public, this is a serious threat to his reputation,

Diavolo thinks it’s quite funny

Lucifer is a bit shocked at first, who would have thought his sweet s/o (without the sweet) can turn into this

He is relieved though to see s/o this happy.

He may be a little upset though, he would like to make them this happy too,

He watches on in both disgust and amusement.

What is this behaviour? What is this?

The jokes and talk between the two friends is kinda concerning,

How do you find half this stuff funny?

“Well Lucifer looks like you have some learning to do”

“No I don’t Diav- PLEASE! What are you doing here?”

Tries to focus on work but can’t due to the conversation going on repeat through his head,

The SCREAMS tho, they echo through the whole HOUSE.

He still can’t believe this, the next day MC is back to normal, like nothing happened.

Now the house seems a little quiet with his beloved s/o’s laughs.

Mammon

“Oi human, don’t start switching personalities like that”

Mammon just can’t quite grasp that this person rolling on the floor who can’t breathe from laughing at the worst joke Mammon has EVER heard was you,

The same person who looks like they have no soul 24/7

Poor guy is a bit freaked out bless him

Mammon, since this a rare occurrence finds that it’s a privilege to see this side of you,

So, he gets quite possessive

“Mammon, tell me again why I can’t go into the common room?”

“Asmo I have told you, MC is in there!”

He gets both jealous and reliant of MC’s best friend, how come they are able to make HIS s/o laugh and not him, but he also falls in love all over again and their laugh.

He’s a bit flustered as he is not used to this side of MC but nevertheless can’t help but grin even as his s/o is on the floor mouthing “help” bc they can’t breathe and clapping their hands like a seal with their mouth wide open

He loves to see their tears of joy streak down their face as they squawk and laugh about Diavolo knows what

But he won’t admit it, when his human is back to normal he’s a bit sad but relieved, he feels like he has unlocked a new part of his one and only and he won’t be willing to share.

Levi

He like a cat which runs of at the slightest of noise,

Levi isnt SCARED but he’s SKITTISH

Who is this person? Definitely not his s/o

Levi was drawn to their calm and stoic nature, this is totally difficult. He can’t help but wish for them to “come back”

His s/o is also spending to much time way to much time with their best friend. He should be MC’s Apple of their eye

He hides in his room until the door is swung open (MC got free room entry privileges) by his laughing s/o who comes to his side and screeches out the conversation they had with their friend.

He’s a bit shocked but ends up feeling more comfortable around you after time

The occasional giggle comes from Levi and he’s gazes lovingly at you,

Then the envy kicks in, HE wants to make you laugh like that, HE wants to be able to bring out this side of you.

It ends however when you stop breathing and silently laugh while falling over in his lap,

The wheezing “help” scares him and he’s left defenceless and confused as he stares down at you.

And then the gasp for breath, this guy seriously has to interact with people more often. He’s SCARED

He’s secretly happy to see you this way, but is relieved to see your normal stone cold face, he’s feels a bit honoured to have seen you that way,

It’s a little secret he is not willing to share with his brothers.

Satan

He’s seen it all, read it all, heard it all and so on,

He was not expecting this, he’s seated on the couch with his books, glancing up with disappointment and shock writer on his face,

The wails and unholy screeches coming from the two writhering lumps on the ground were foreign in this house

He could live with this, a tiny bit childish for his liking, he fell in love with his calm and collected s/o, not this....

...maniacal monster

It’s a bit odd but he doesn’t really mind

He’s still a bit shook but he’s satan, he got a grip on himself pretty quick,

He’s a bit relieved to see this, he’s read that laughter is good for ones soul

And I mean, he wants his world to be happy

It’s different from what he’s used to but it’s a change

Not him jotting down notes of how his s/o best friend makes them laugh

He just wants the best for you ❤️

Asmo

Laughing is good for your skin, you overall health, it’s a form of self care,

So ofc Asmo is relieved to see his S/o laughing

“Oh honey it’s about time you laughed”

But oh my what is that face

He’s a mix between happy that your laughing and slightly concerned for your wrinkles, you won’t get them will you?

Honestly, Asmo is all up for this new you, he thinks your smile and laugh is GORGEOUS

Laugh more for Asmo, he’s loves it.

He will go up to your friend and ask for tips on how to make you laugh though

When you go back to your normal stance, Asmo will probably gaze at you lovingly and with awe, you’re so mysterious~

Attempts to make you laugh again, and will probably call up your bestie to visit for a while,

He’s fallen in love with you again

Beel

He’s taken aback, poor bby

This is so unlike you, where did his s/o go?

Probably goes to Belphie for help, who doesn’t really help

Honestly this little bean is a bit freaked out,

But he gets used to it pretty quick

Soon he’s out here chuckling along to your antics, and watching with pure amusement and love

His brothers find it quite wholesome

Beel really did fall hard

Know Beel thinks that you should laugh all the time, every second of the day, eight days a week, he will attempt to make you laugh

He LOVES it, to see you laugh and lose that cold attitude,

Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but that doesn’t matter, to him, as long as he tries

Please smile for Beel

Belphie

He did not sign up for this

He thought being a boyfriend was easy, simple, and he thought he had you all figured out too,

He’s sick and tired and he just wants to sleep, he liked it better when it was quiet

He would be all wrapped up in bed with either you in the room doing whatever you do, or you snuggled up next to him

Now, he’s stuck with listening to the cries of BANSHEES, echoing down the halls

After an hour or two of heading the screams and wheezes and the occasional silent laughter, you come blundering into the room

He feels betrayed, like how DARE you be happy for someone else other than him

Mad belphie hours

He’s going to be glaring at you but also silently inviting you to be by his side

He thinks that he only enjoys your quiet, cold side, but now , he’s not too sure

Maybe he likes the happiness once and a while, maybe he wants to see your face beaming with joy and laughter

It makes you look pure, even when your laughing at the stupidest jokes out there, and when your laugh turns ugly, and when you sitting there with your face all twisted in silent laughter

It’s ugly, but in a good way, it’s beautiful, and he does need a good laugh once and a while

He’s too emo

He needs some more joy in his life

Okay so I kinda strayed a little i think from the original request 🤭, here you go

[lymmsweb]

Hi can you do an angst(can be fic or headcanons) where levi s/o went missing for like 3 years while they are expediting with a large group ofc, but one time when they(scouting legion) went expediting again, one member found a human bone remaining with scouting legion jacket which happen to be levi missing S/o

I'm so sorry if this is hard to write, feel free to ignore this request if you don't feel like writing it!

Ahh this has been in my request inbox for almost 10 days! I'm so sorry that it's taken me this long :(

This doesn't say where it is in the timeline, basically I don't say any of the main casts names so you can put it in anywhere in the timeline that you’d like.

And I’ll be using the they/them pronouns for Hange <3

Levi finding his dead s/o’s scout legion jacket on an expedition

Gn!s/o

Angst (kinda, i tried my best)

Tw: Mentions of your death, Descriptions of blood

Words : 944

“Yeah, yeah I'll be fine. I love you!” Those were the last words he ever heard from you.

The image of you plagued his dreams, the last time he saw you. It was either that or seeing his friends being ripped apart, he was stuck in a loop of pain whenever he fell asleep. It had been 3 years since the last time he saw you, 3 years of loneliness.

“Levi, we're heading out.’ Hange softly reminded him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was mindlessly staring at his horse. They knew how hard it had been after your disappearance, he wasn't the saw afterwards. He was more closed off towards everyone, even to them and Erwin. He had not dared to love anyone else, no one could replace you.

“Yeah i know four eyes.” He grumbled back at them, coming back to reality. With one swift jump, he managed to get ontop of his horse and adjusting himself in the saddle. He lightly squeezed the horses sides, making it trot to the front of the gates and in front of the scouts. Hange joining him by his side.

As the gate opened, a frown was placed upon his lips. ‘How many deaths would there be this time?’ ‘How many people will be sent to their death because of him?’ These thoughts ran through his head as the horses began to gallop at full speed, never once did he lose his balance ontop of that horse. The large field met him, the ruins of old houses that once were inhabited by life now turned to nothing more than rubble.

As each Captian and their squads split off from the large group, he continued straight. Straight to the forest, the forest where he last saw you.

——————————————————————————(flashback)

“Y/N...they never came back. We don't know where they are, we searched hard for them but we couldn't find anything, we couldn't even find a body sir.” A scout informed him, he was sat in his office at the time. Those words would be the ones that would plague him for the next couple of years.

“Okay... get out.” He said in a sombre tone, fighting back tears. He couldn't let anyone see him broken, unfortunately, they listened and left him alone.

That night he had a panic attack, he wasn't able to breathe and was shaking violently. Tears came falling out like a waterfall, his throat was dry. He never knew that his body was able to produce him this many tears.

Hange was the first to comfort him, they tried their best but they to were in pain. They loved you dearly, you made Levi’s world a bit happier, and helped him through the troubles of his past. You made them happy too, you were their sunshine too.

------------------------------------------------------------(back to the present)

As they entered the forest, he jumped off of his horse and propelled himself into the trees. If it wasn't for the cruel world that they lived in he would've considered the view a calming one. The wind hitting his face, his hair flowing rapidly in the air.

A 7meter titan caught his eye, he had a mission to do. As he quickly looked around his surroundings to make sure that no other titan was near, he hastily killed the titan. With one swift slash to the neck, it fell to the floor with a thud. He had done this a thousand times before, he was humanity’s strongest soldier, so why couldn't he protect you? Landing on a tree branch and stared solemnly at his bloody sword, it was starting to evaporate, you must have had a painful death. Everyone who loses their life to the titans dies as their limbs get ripped apart, how he wished you were here with him.

“Captain Levi, I think you need to see something.” A soldier landed next to him, his hands bloody too. As Levi looked at his face, it was covered by an unmistakable emotion, sadness and regret.

“Is it that important?”

“Yes sir. Follow me.” Usually, Levi wouldn't agree to but something in him told him that he had to go along. As they soared through the trees, eventually landing on the ground. The trees looked massive on the ground, they towered over him, as if mocking him for his height. Levi brought his attention back to the soldier, he had walked off a couple of meters, to the bottom of a tree.

“Captain, this...” He saw what he was crouching down next to “this is Y/N’s.” The soldier looked back at Levi, pointing at the scouting legion jacket. It had your initials sewn on the edge of the jacket, you had your friend sew it on since you kept on mixing it up with someone else's jacket. It was covered in blood, dried up blood. He slowly stepped towards your bloody jacket, it had not evaporated. Therefore it was your blood.

Levi knelt next to the man, tears threatening to escape his eyes. As he lifted it, something shiny glistened in the daylight, catching both of their eyes. He focused his gaze on that, it was a ring. The man picked it up, inspecting it, it too was covered in dried up blood.

“Pass it to me.” He ordered in a shaky voice, even his voice was now betraying him. As he passed it to Levi, his eyes widened, now flooding his cheeks in tears. It was the ring that he gifted to you on your 1 year anniversary, you would wear it everywhere. He brought it up to his middle finger, he was wearing a matching one. Even after your disappearance, he never took it off, nevertheless, they were the same.

“Thank you.” He quietly thanked the man, at least now he could get some closure. He held your jacket to his chest and put on your ring, he choked on his sobs, you were really dead. His heart ached, he would never get you back. He was cursed with losing all the people that he loved.

A/N : this is my first time writing angst, it's very bad but I hope you liked it to a certain degree. I also changed him from finding bones to finding a ring since I couldn't really think of how you can identify a loved one with one of their bones. <3

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, Part 13

I just had to sneak in one more part before the big showdown tonight. Aside from this, the card for Resurgence looks awesome!

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 2,897

Content advisory: sexual content (not as graphic as previous parts, but still more than just mentions), language

Previous sections (and the prequel) available on the Master List

This is completely normal, you tell yourself. He has a big match tomorrow. He needs a clear head and sleep and, as he’s fond of telling you, he doesn’t get either of those things when the two of you are together. It makes sense that he’d want to spend tonight at his own place, by himself.

So why do you feel like something horrible is happening?

You close your eyes but the second you do, you get a vision ofJay lifting David limp body off the mat. You can still hear that awful crack of David’s unprotected skull hitting the chair and immediately you feel sick to your stomach, just as you had when you’d watched the moment unfold. You were as powerless then as you are now to change it. All you could do was follow the assistants who’d come to help him to the medic’s room.

By the time they got him back there, there was already a red welt visible on his forehead. He was barely conscious, growling at anyone who tried to help him until you approached. He hadn’t said anything, just leaned into your body and let his head fall on your shoulder. He wasn’t aware enough to notice that you were crying, even when a few of your tears dripped onto his skin.

You’d held him tight until the doctor arrived, her expression doing nothing to ease your mind. Nevertheless, after a thorough check, she pronounced that he wasn’t concussed and wasn’t injured beyond the obvious bumps and bruises. Not physically at least.

Of course, you’d insisted that he come back to your place where you could keep an eye on him and take care of the wounds he had sustained. Well, you hadn’t really had to insist. He was happy to go along, laughing at the way you tried to do everything for him. It became a rather hilarious tug of war, you trying everything to keep him still and him doing everything to annoy you, getting himself a bottle of water from the fridge, trying to make something for dinner until you’d literally smacked his ass repeatedly with a spatula, which had you both laughing so hard you almost fell down.

Getting him into bed was a battle, too, and once you got him undressed and relaxed, he’d immediately started to get frisky. He kept insisting that he was fine and had ended up spending time both last night and the first part of the day today showing you just how fine he was.

“I can’t wait until this weekend is over,” he hissed into your skin during one intimate moment.

You’d agreed because, despite the fact that there are other shows and other matches coming up, there does seem to be a sense of finality around their showdown this weekend. Sure after this, Jay’s going to calm down or get distracted and he won’t be so determined to screw with your lives.

“Never again,” Jay had fairly shrieked, sitting on David’s chest, clinging on to his belt. “You will never beat me again.”

Sure, his words made perfect sense within the context of their fight for the belt and Jay’s determination to avenge his loss months ago. But you knew that wasn’t it. The animalistic way they’d stared each other down before the fight, the rush to get started. Jay always loved to tease confronting an enemy but backed out at the last seconds toying with them until he was convinced he’d rattled their nerves. Not last night. He and David had gone right after each other, brawling like they were in a bar.

Thinking of that reminds you of a night you haven’t thought about in years, back in their early days, your early days, in the dojo. It’s not a night you should remember at all, given the condition you were in but you remember it, or at least the end of it, perfectly.

The three of you had been out drinking. Drinking a lot. You’d stumbled back to your barracks leaning on one another to form some sort of solid mass that could stay upright. You’d still ended up tumbling a few times, which was hardly surprising. You must have all had some kind of homing instinct because none of you could tell where the hell you were.

You knew that by the time you made it back, the door would be locked but your super power at that time was that you were small enough and flexible enough to get through the window in the kitchen that was stuck open. You’d needed a boost from the guys, which had taken a couple of efforts, but you were eventually able to scramble through and unlock the front door, albeit after crashing into so many things and making so much noise that there was no way anyone slept through it.

Your room was in another area of the building but you’d just headed to their room. You’d passed out on the floor on several occasions, always on the floor even though you’d already started sleeping with Jay by that point. The two of you were half-assed pretending that nothing was happening, even though you’d very quietly fool around before falling asleep.

You’d been keeping things a secret to avoid gossip but also, at least on your part, because you hadn’t wanted to hurt David. It was clear already that he was sweet on you and you’d figured that as long as it wasn’t right there out in the open, you could pretend that there was no reason for him to feel hurt. Later on, you’d confide in him about how miserable Jay was making you, but at that point, things were still fun, still inconsequential.

In retrospect, you realize this period must have been agony for him. Jay was a braggart and had advertised his conquest to his roommate pretty much right away, but from there, you’d all pretended that nothing was happening. It’s only been in the last few weeks that you found out just how much and how early he’d liked you. Going through that must have sucked.

But on that particular night, there was no problem because you were all feeling no pain, either physical or emotional. You’d ended up crawling up the stairs on all fours, basically pulling both of them along with you. Jay had informed you loudly that he needed to take a piss and you and David had somehow made it back to their room.

It was dark, which meant the two of you were stumbling all over the place, but eventually David had flopped down onto his bed and turned on the lamp that stood on the shelf just above it. Unfortunately, as he did so, he’d knocked the lamp backward and left it hanging precariously, wedged between the headboard and the wall.

“David, get the light!” You’d been laughing so hard you could barely get the words out. There were tears streaming down your cheeks.

“It’s ok,” he mumbled, laughing as much as his semi-conscious body would let him.

“It’s not ok, David, you have to get the lamp because it’s going to…” You could not for the life of you remember the word “fall” in that moment.

After a few more seconds, you’d gone over to retrieve the lamp yourself, not that you were particularly graceful at it, balancing yourself as best you could on the edge of David’s bed and placing one hand on the wall to try to keep steady, all while trying not to collapse onto David’s chuckling form.

Out of nowhere, he’d snaked an arm around your leg and pulled you down onto his face, which made you both laugh even harder. You’d been giggling as he clumsily pushed your panties out of the way and started licking you with sloppy enthusiasm.

“Oh my god, David, what the hell,” you laughed. “That tickles!”

Maybe you would have told him to stop, or he just would have passed out in the middle of what he was doing because he was just that loaded, but before either of those things could happen, you’d been interrupted.

“What the fuck?” Jay was standing unsteadily in the doorway.

You’d tried to shush him as you fell back a little, sitting on David’s chest. He was laughing too but Jay decidedly was not.

“What are you, eating her pussy?”

You’d just cracked up laughing. David hadn’t opened his eyes, just grinned in a drunk, goofy way and responded, “I don’t know. Sort of?”

“Turn the light off,” Jay snapped.

“I’m trying to!” Another wave of laughter rolled over you as you’d pondered the ridiculousness of not being able to turn off a light.

“Turn the fucking light off!” Jay yelled.

He gave it a hard kick and shattered the bulb, solving the problem. He’d helped you stand up and although you couldn’t see him well, you’d felt like David was already unconscious as Jay led you over to his bed.

He’d pushed you down and started pulling your clothes away, which was unusual. Part of trying to keep things secret was learning how to fool around without getting naked and being as quiet as possible. But that night, Jay had been insistent about getting you naked. He’d been rough and he’d been loud. And he’d bit and pinched and scratched at you until you were loud as well. If you hadn’t managed to wake everyone in the building up with your arrival, that must have done the trick.

The only person it didn’t disturb was David, whose light snoring you could hear while you were going at it.

Jay had never been one to stare into your eyes and focus intently on you during sex, not back then at least. He’d look at you, then away, like he was thinking of what he could do next, or what he could get you to do. But as you remember the night now, you realize that his eyes flickered repeatedly towards the other bed, vibrant with anger. You knew that Jay had come to see you as one of his belongings during the time that you’d been working for him, but it’s only now that you realize how early that had started. Even then, when he’d been very clear that the two of you were not exclusive, he’d been livid at the idea that someone else would touch what was his.

The son of a bitch would have known that David was hung up on you, too. He’d done his best to make sure that he’d hear him fucking you right there in the room, like David didn’t even exist. David who at that point was still his best friend.

You don’t know if David woke up while all this was happening. You hope he didn’t. Although he’d apologized for what he called “his behavior” the next day, you’ve never been sure how much he remembers. Certainly by this point, it might have faded from his memory entirely. You hope that’s the case. You hope he doesn’t remember it anything like the way you do.

In his position, you don’t know if you’d ever be able to trust you, to believe that your emotions weren’t contaminated or at least inconsistent. You can’t believe that doubts don’t start to creep in the second you’re out of his sight, which is why, although it’s understandable that he’d want to spend the night by himself tonight, you feel worried. The second he starts thinking about how many problems you’re causing and how much he’s had to deal with for years because of you, he’s likely to move to Siberia just to ensure he never sees you again.

And as if you weren’t capable of driving yourself crazy with anxiety on your own, Jay’s trying his best to make it worse. Since you are the talent liaison for New Japan in America and Jay is a New Japan performer currently working in America, you’re no longer allowed to stop him from accessing you and tonight, he’s apparently decided to take full advantage of that.

Your phone lights up to indicate another text message. You check every time because it could be David, or someone actually trying to contact you for work, as opposed to what Jay’s doing, which is trying to drive you right out of your mind. But it seems like no one has anything to say to you except Jay.

Are you alone or do you have to take care of your boy tonight?

I hope you’re not wearing him out. I want him to remember how easy it is for me to beat him even at his best. And I know how you can be.

Try not to think about me when you two are going at it.

If he’s not there, come over. I’ll keep my hands to myself if you do.

You know I can get women whenever I want but I never stop thinking about the filthy things I’d like to do to you.

Play the good girl all you want, I know you’re going to be thinking about that last text for hours. I’ll bet you’ll even touch yourself.

Send pictures when you do. No reason for us not to enjoy ourselves.

Wonder how he’d react if I told him you were coming over. Guess I could find out. Not like he’d know I was lying. Or maybe I’m not lying?

That last one does it. You can’t just ignore that because you don’t know if he’s going to make good on the threat. So you type back the only two words you can think of: STOP IT.

Ha. I knew you weren’t sleeping. And I’ll bet your sweet prince is back at his place because he wants to be focused for tomorrow. Poor boy denying himself his last meal.

You flinch and respond again in all capital letters: I MEAN IT. KNOCK IT OFF.

You’re tense. You should definitely come over. I’ll give you a back rub.

You should have just let him keep texting and gone to sleep, not that you can sleep because you���re so tense about things with David and the fact that Jay’s threatening to ruin them. Now you’re caught in one of his mazes that you can never seem to find your way out of.

Fine, you’re not coming over. Phone sex?

NO.

Come on, it’s probably the one thing we haven’t done before. Call me.

NO. GOD WILL YOU JUST STOP? I’M TRYING TO SLEEP.

I know how to help you calm down. Call.

Ok, seriously, let me help you relax. We don’t have to talk about you putting my dick in your mouth.

You roll your eyes and answer: Nothing with you relaxes me.

Seriously, I have a technique.

NO.

You’re no fun. Think I’ll bug Super Dave for a bit.

You don’t even text him back. You call because at least if he’s on the phone, he can’t be texting David to tell him god knows what.

“Well this is a nice surprise,” he purrs.

“You can’t do this. I need to sleep. Hell, you need to sleep. Just let it go, Jay.”

“I don’t really need to be well rested to beat Finlay. He got lucky the one time. Even you don’t believe he’s good enough to beat me twice.”

“Maybe I don’t care if he wins or not. Maybe I’ll be happy because I get to be with him one way or the other.”

“I’ll bet he cares.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, come on, I promised I’d help you sleep and now you’re even more worked up.”

You try to think of a smart comeback but you can’t. He waits a minute before continuing.

“Are you lying down?”

“Not that it’s any of your business but yes.”

“It’s purely professional interest, I promise.” You can hear a dark laugh buried in his voice. “Lay flat on your back and close your eyes.”

You’re not sure why but you do as he says. You do need to sleep and maybe the bastard actually can help with that.

“I want you to breathe all the way in, really slowly, through your nose.”

You give it a shot and he immediately interrupts.

“Don’t do it like you’re angry at me. Soft and slow, until your lungs feel full.”

You comply, fighting to keep from getting angry at him.

“Ok, now exhale very slowly through your mouth. All the way.” When he’s satisfied you’ve done that properly, he continues, “Keep doing that, as slow as you can manage. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

You can’t deny that you can feel your body start to relax after only a few repetitions.

“Now take your hand and place it over your face, right along the hairline. Just barely let your fingers touch your skin. Then run your hand down your face, all the way to your neck. Keep your touch as light as you can.”

The sensation makes you shiver but as much as you feel like your nerves are being activated, you also feel like you’re pulling the tension out of your body. He tells you to repeat this gesture a few times, always keeping your breathing slow and even.

“Good night princess,” he whispers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The line goes dead before you can say anything.

[konaizumi]

A Tale of a Thousand Stars ep 10 thoughts/reaction

here we go

damn, phupha’s really been whipped from the start, huh?

awww, tian leaving the sticky notes for the next teacher

i can’t handle this, why are goodbyes so sad

you know what? im usually crazy about child characters very much but i would absolutely die for each of the children

meejoo wanting to be a teacher like tian 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

even khama tearing up at having to say goodbye and the rest of the village crying, how could tian ever leave them???

“this might not be as good as your designer clothes” ofc its not its way better

phupha you told him to leave forever and don’t even have the guts to say goodbye

the way tian’s voice wavers when he says 1 2 3

if his parents could see this group hug they never would’ve made him come back home

the parallel of him crying as he walks away from the villagers as he loses them once again

tian really said this is my jacket now

i called it, last week i predicted tian would finally see torfun’s wish and it would turn out that he had already fulfilled it

tian writing about all the things he doesn’t have to do anymore despite the fact that he is now doing those things

the product placements used to be horny but now they’re just sad

it’s the little details, like tian going back to having the parted bangs when he’s in bangkok that are a bit more stylish but when he was in pha pun dao (and when he’s back in the post credit scenes) he didn’t style his hair

tian, i’m glad you found a love for northern food but i can’t help but be reminded when your doctor specifically told you not to eat spicy food

tul knows what’s up

character A talking about character B then the scene cutting to character B sneezing is one of my favorite troops in asian media lol

dr nam also knows what’s up (and everyone else in the village)

i think i understand tian a bit better bc i feel like last ep i was kind of confused why tian just accepted leaving when there wasn’t anything truly forcing him to do so, but i think it’s bc tian has always had this mindset of following what his parents want so he thinks of that future with his parents as somewhat set in stone even if the path there is flexible, so even though i wish he hadn’t had to leave the village i do think it’s important that he had this period of realizing that he can choose his own future

i like mr winai, he’s cool

the metaphor of the flower being tian, when he’s coddled too much by his parents he withers, but when he really experiences life and faces it he blossoms

also “the place that fits you will make you grow”

it must be so frustrating for tian to have gone through all that, to have finally put his all into something, to have experienced all the ups and downs and then to have everyone reduce that experience to just “a rich kid having some fun pretending to struggle for a little while”

okay but how prestigious a university do you need to go to for teaching tho? like not to reduce the difficulty of teaching or anything but does he really need to go overseas?

what with nam flirting in the eearly episodes, i wish he and the show had treated the wedding more as his wedding than just an excuse for phupha and tian to reunite, like marriage is kind of a big deal

“are you having a date?” yes

lol he’s marrying p’amp

unpopular opinion maybe but phupha’s suit is lowkey kinda ugly

on the other hand, yod and rang look fantastic

now i do think it was important for tian to finish his degree and spend the two years teachings but in an ideal world they would’ve reconnected at the wedding and kissed and gone back to pha pun dao together

poor tian tho, thinking phupha is specifically avoiding him, that shit hurts

i still can’t tell if phupha was actually avoiding him bc i feel like if he was he wouldn’t’ve come back and he seemed surprised to see tian

yes, good job nam, get his phone number

phupha, you coward

the song that plays when phupha comes is so good and the lyrics fit the situation so well, honestly this whole sequence of phupha staring at him then tian returning back home while this song plays was for me one of the most emotional scenes this ep

“it keeps my heart warm”

tian, no amount of distance will make you forget phupha

more sad product placement

in ideal world #2 phupha would’ve goon to the airport to stop him not just send him off

also, tian in the black turtleneck with phupha’s jacket is a look

that phone call though with the long silences as neither is quite sure what to say and they’re too emotional to say more

the whole airport scene has really got me fucked up

just everything about it

phupha saying he wouldn’t be able to forget him and he doesn’t want them to forget each other

that hug tho

and then the second one

and the mom’s reaction has me cracking up, poor woman is the only one with zero context for this whole interaction

kiss him on the lips you coward

okay but the rangers taking over as teachers while waiting for the new one is adorable

also the kids teasing phupha about tian some high quality content

“where is the angel now?” “In the US probably” “he just avoids saying it directly” im gonna say it again but i would die for these kids

i think my biggest complaint about the ending is that we never see tian’s reunion with the kids, i kept waiting for that

okay but did tian suggest faking the security threat or did one of the other rangers suggest and tian was like “perfect”?

its sweet that he buried the notebook on the cliff, that’s where torfun would want to be put to rest

phupha, what did you see your endgame being if it wasn’t tian returning to pha pun dao?

also, earth looks really good in the lighting of the sunset

then earth’s softer version of the OST in the background (i still like aye’s version better bc its amazing, but earth’s is nice too)

lol phupha used a pick up line on tian

the post-credit scene gave me life, it is everything

the hug from behind

tian just stepping on phupha

tian’s “beg me”

phupha is so fucking whipped and tian knows it

“just sleep?”

when gmmtv decides to make our skyy season 2 there’d better be 50 whole minutes of just scenes like this for them

the way they’re laying in bed parallels the first time they slept next to each other

i can’t believe it’s over, y’all, like what a journey, i truly wasn’t expecting the story to be so emotional and dramatic but i really have loved it so much and while i’m glad we’ve finally gotten to the happy ending, i’m so sad to say goodbye. i don’t think fish upon the sky will be quite as good or be so impactful, but nevertheless i’m excited to start that next week and i hope it will be a good addition to frigay and give me something new to be excited about each week

[antigenius]

Submission (PART 2)

A/n: so... this took a while. Hope this is good :”))) All characters are aged up as per usual!! Warnings:  NSFW +18, this is a smut (ofc), handcuffs, unprotected sex, sliight yandere.

His fingers nestle inside you, cold thumb pressing against your nub hard. His stare was cold, malice glittered with such ferocity that your heart stopped for a moment. This wasn’t the sweet Deku you met four years back. The one that stuttered and laughed shyly when you flirted with him. This wasn’t the one that made you pancakes and cuddled you for long hours on the couch. 

This Deku was the one you hated.

The one that pushed your buttons. The one that lived to see you mad. The one that held you tight to his chest and made your heart beat become vibrations. The one that held your body by the strings, shackling you to his alluring aura.

His lips enclose yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as his fingers scissor you, stroking with utmost precision. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew what to do by memory, but how he remembered was the last thought on your mind right now.

“Iz.. Iz…”

His name was trembling from your lips. He smirked.

“Go on love, what’s my name?”

His free hand tips your chin up, a condescending glaze sending burning embers through your veins. The name rolls from your tongue, any semblance of your resistance crumbling in his touch.

“Izuku…!”

A hard press on your nerves made you shudder in absolute euphoria. The cuffs made a rattling noise as he softly chuckles.

“Mhm, don’t wear it out too much now.”

His fingers curled into your sopping walls, feeling you clench and curse around them. You could feel them reignite fires in your stomach, fires that you thought had been doused long ago. Your pitiful cries grow louder, the cuffs jangling fervidly to try and free themselves. Your hands longed to roam down his beautiful chest, pull his curls and get your lips together, to feel his abs rippling under your lips, to feel his pecs just beneath your fingertips.

“Izuk-“

His lips crash onto yours, heat flaring to your cheeks at sudden intensity. His tongue was hot and silky, the piercing leaving a slight metallic taste in your mouth. It was sloppy, it was breathtaking, it was all you needed to become putty in his hands. 

His fingers leave your soaking cunt, the cold air hitting it and making your thighs rub again. 

“C’mon, your turn.”

You look at him quizzically as he rolls his eyes. 

“Dumbass.”

He shoves you down to your knees, unbuckling his belt.  

“Don’t make me use this on you sweets.” He smacks the belt on his palm twice, a resonating ‘smack’ bouncing in the room’s walls. “Only brats need the belt, and you’re not a brat, right?”

You hated his fucking eyes. His eyes would be one day the death of you. The way they looked down on you, how they devoured you and rendered you useless in every single situation had you fuming. He cleared his throat.

“I expect an answer, sweets.”

“Y-Yes.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yes who?”

“Yes, Deku.”

A smile paints itself onto his face. “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

With a bit of rustling, his jeans and boxers hit the floor. He kicks them behind him. 

Now if there was ever a pretty cock, Deku’s was fucking gorgeous. 

The tip was red, angry from being withheld in his boxers, precum dribbling at the top. It was an average length, but gods was it girthy. It could stretch you in ways you couldn’t get from anyone else. Just like the rest of his body, freckles speckled on his dick like constellations. They were like the sprinkles on a cake, the finishing touch to perfection. 

“Whatcha staring for huh?” He smacked the belt again, eyes cold and hard. “Get to it.”

Begrudgingly, you shuffle to him, coming face to face with his cock. You look up at him, and he looks down at you.

“Go on,” he says, “or do you need encouragement?”

You shake your head. 

You face back to the cock in front of you. You start with open-mouthed kisses from the base to the top, earning soft grunts of approval and content from the male receiving. You trail the flat of your tongue against the underside of his member, lazily flicking up after the head. It was just how he liked it.

You watch him carefully as you do this, watching his eyebrows knit together and eyes screw shut, watching the tip of his ears turn a rosy shade of red as he hisses.

“Fuck…”

You take the head of his cock and suck, a low groan leaving his plush lips. Still sensitive, like you remembered. You felt his hands run through your hair as you let more of him into your mouth, easing yourself onto him.

However, you didn’t expect him to push your head all the way. 

“You were taking too long.”

Your gag reflex was strong, but sudden movements like that makes life harder. Tears prick the corner of your eyes in pain, eventually accustoming to his length. You could feel hm pull your hair, humming.

“Aw… Haven’t sucked dick in a while huh?”

You mumbled under your breath. He pulled you off of him, your scalp aching from his strong grip. 

“What did you say?”

You pant, albeit breathless. Nevertheless, you get the words out of you. 

“Not like you’d know.”

He laughs at your statement, his cackles almost sounding maniac.

“Cocky aren’t we?” He giggles. “I nearly forgot how fun you were.”

In one swift motion, he pins you to the wall. The handcuffs clash against the plaster. Your breath leaves your lungs in a whooshing movement, coughing as he comes close to you.

“No one’s like you, sweets. No one hates me like you do. No one despises me like you do.” His lips hover over yours, and you could feel his breath over your lips. “Yet, no one loves me like you do. No one wants me like you do. No one needs me like you do.”

His lips press gently onto yours, not a kiss, but you felt skin upon skin. “So instead of staying in that horrid hate-love cycle…” Deku’s eyes were downcast.

“… why don’t you just let me love you?”

He was so close, your bodies were up against each other, you could feel his heart beating fast just by being near you. He felt so warm…

You swallow down the fuzzy feelings. This man was obsessive! He’d write a whole journal on your every movement, take photos from rooms you didn’t even know had a window, and would find you WHEREVER you were. He was scary. He was not to be trusted.

So why did you melt in his touch?

Why did you let his lips touch yours so delicately, something only lovers would do?

Why did you let him see you so vulnerable, to order you around and wrap you around his finger?

His lips were still, waiting for an answer. Your mind felt like goo, nothing coherent coming to the surface, only that he was right in front of you, waiting.

“I love you.”

Those three words made your heart soar and fall at the same time. Those three words made you angry and happy. Sweet, sour. Being weak and in power. They mixed your bubbling pot of emotions even further, when it was already a mess to begin with. 

Your mouth opens ever so slightly, his lips mimicking your movement. The words you wanted to say however, were stuck. You were choking, choking on nothing and everything.

“I…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, moving away a bit, the cool air on your face a bittersweet refreshment. “I know you’re gonna say-“

“I love you too.”

He stops. He looks at you in complete confusion, eyes blinking in surprise. You hated to admit it, but even with his creepy tendencies, you knew he was a good guy. You knew he was kind, caring and romantic. You knew he’d never hurt someone for no good reason. You knew he was everything you wanted and more. 

You loved him.

“Really?” Deku’s eyes were bright, glittering with joy. “You mean it right? You’re not gonna leave again, right?”

You almost felt guilty now, for breaking up all those years ago. Maybe you had been wrong. Maybe the girls were wrong. Maybe you had to give him another chance. You were just peer-pressured into it by Mina and the gang, but didn’t know Deku like you did, right?

“Here, let me get those off you.”

He brings your hands down, freeing you from the cuffs. They drop to the floor with a clatter. Your eyes flicker from the cuffs back to him. Your eyes met. He approaches you, and this time, you don’t step away.

“May I?”

His hand tips your chin, but it’s different. It’s soft, it’s affectionate, it’s tender. You nod, never taking your eyes off him. He leans down; your noses touch. 

A kiss. 

It was like a contract.

A contract binding you to him. 

He pushes you against the wall again, lifting your legs up and apart. His dick was still fully erect, pulsing, throbbing. His eyes were on you.

“Ready?”

His tone sounded so warm, soothing. You nod again. He pushes into you slowly, stretching you, taking great care to make sure you were okay. You felt loved. You felt cared for. You felt full.

“… I’m gonna move now.”

His thrusts were loving. They explored you, they filled you, like a missing piece of a puzzle you never could’ve solved on your own. You wrap your legs tight around him, letting his hands intertwine with yours. He was so close to you. He was so good to you. 

“Iz-Iz…” The whine spills from your swollen lips. “F-fuc-”

He nips your neck, making you arch your back into him. Small marks bloomed across your neck and chest. Deku was meticulous, making sure there was no space left without some attention. You could hear him mumbling sweet nothings to you, sweet, sweet nothings that left your mind even messier than before.

He re-angles himself a little, hips coming onto yours with a loud ‘slap’. He brushes against your walls, teasingly rubbing your g-spot.

“Izuku!!” You buck into him, desperate to get that pleasure again. He smiles.

“Sorry sweets, I couldn’t help it.” He kisses your jaw. “You’re adorable like this.”

So he rubs again, and again, and again, until you saw stars. You grip his hands tight, knot unfolding.

“Izuku!!!”

He doesn’t answer, so you cum. The pleasure sends a current through your veins, a shuddering moan leaving you. Deku doesn’t stop, instead he carries you onto the sofa, the punishing pace from before getting quicker, his length going deeper.

“W-wait!-“

Your words were nothing. Any attempt at begging or pleading were deaf against his ears. Your walls squeezed tight around him, as if trying to slow him down. The action only spurred him further, the wet squelching sounds reverberating shamelessly. It was only a matter of moments when you felt the feeling rise up again, bubbling in your stomach.

“Izu… ku!”

A quiet growl comes from the back of his throat as he pinched your nipples. “What, sweets?”

“I-I-I-“

He doesn’t let you finish, his lips entangling with yours. It was heated, it was hot. He tasted like strawberries, sickenly sweet. Each kiss was like drinking saltwater. You’d drink and drink, but never felt quenched. Your skin was stained red as he cradled you close, his cock exploring every crevice, every nook and cranny within you. He pulls his lips away from yours, eyes piercing into you.

“Who do you belong to?”

His eyes were dark. Forest green turning to jade. You could barely say anything, let alone reply.

“Who?” He asks again, his thrusts getting sloppier.

“Y-you.”

He shakes his head, rolling your nipple between his forefinger and his thumb. “Who?”

“I… Iz…”

You could feel your whole-body trembling, your whole being quivering beneath him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your hips pushed hard against his. You could feel electricity crackle down your spine, the building pressure making everything in your vision go white.

“IZUKU!”

Hearing what he wanted, Deku lets himself release, a heavy thick load spilling into you. He lets your back rest against the sofa’s surface, staying in that position so you got every single drop in you. It was hot, viscous, and so filling. You let your tongue hang out in a pant as more came out of him. 

“So…” He presses a kiss to your cheek. “Wanna go for a round two?”

Despite your hate, your despise, your disgust, you had been pulled back into submission.

You were always his, you just needed a little reminder~

[to-fu]

Hi, I was the one who sent you the ask about art improvement and stuff; I just read your response and you made ME tear up! Thank you for the advice -- though it *was* a bit more of a reminder, but nevertheless, reading it makes me feel more hopeful and a bit more ambitious in regards to my creative future. Anyway, I just wanted to say I'm really happy to know I could make your day a little better! Thank you again! ♡♡♡ (Also, PT9 is my scrunkly, too. ♡)

ur super welcome, im so happy to hear that! and ofc pt9 supremacy

[trendywaifus]

Hey! If it's alright, could a request Shinobu and Mitsuri's reaction to their s/o crying? (I don't know if you've already done this,If so, you could skip this ask. ^^;)

ofc babe nobody requested this fortunately!

she can feel her heart squeeze as she sees the tears stream down your face. her hand curls carefully around your wrist, slowly peeling away the hand away from your face and tilts her head to see a better view of your visage. “ love, look at me please. everything is going to be alright. “ she presses her palms to your cheeks, prying them upwards to make you look into her eyes for comfort.

she smiles warmly, brushing her thumb over your flush cheeks tenderly. you sniveled, embarrassed that you’re weeping in front of her. though, there was no sense of pity in her eyes; not even a sliver of it. instead, her purple hues softened with fondness and concern. “ you know. .” she whispers, kissing your lips for a brief moment and retracts a bit so her forehead rested on yours, running a finger over your frowning lips. “ if you keep frowning like that you’ll grow wrinkles and look old. people will get the wrong idea when they see us in public. .” she whispers jokingly, then kisses your lips once more.

“i prefer your smiles much more, they’re as wonderful as you are, [name].”

“ n-name? “ mitsuri felt tears prick her eyes as your own tears fall down your cheeks. she was confused on the reason why you were crying but nevertheless felt absolutely horrible to see you like this. when you’re happy, she’s happy, when you’re upset, she is too. she was always an emotional woman that empathize with everyone, but with you, it’s stronger.

wordlessly, she takes you into her arms with teary eyes. mitsuri was nervous, she can feel herself starting to sweat as she tries to muster up words that was lodged in her throat. what if it was better for her not to speak? would you tell her the reason why you’re crying when she asks you? would that make you upset?

she shakes her head determinely, placing a kiss on your temple; running her hands through your locks and hummed a soft tune. mitsuri felt herself smile bashfully as she was reminded of the days of being an elderly sister.

“ um, i’m here, [name]. . tell me when you’re ready, please? “