#AND THEN HIM KNOWING HE'S FALLING BUT FIGHTING WITH THOSE FEELINGS

[amiaclone]

You asked I’ll write! Gender neutral reader if you don’t mind

Tw: cursing I guess? Squid game in general should be considered a trigger over all the murdering lmaoo

*In ho sighed for the what? Fifteenth time? He’s been counting it’s what he’s trying to focus on the other thing is well……*

*When he decided to participate in these games again it was to prove Gi hun a point and mess with him a bit so he joined his “team” which well….. they happened to be in*

You were apart of it a strong person filled with determination in debt to a lot of money…..honestly in ho was shocked with how much debt you were in I mean you seemed like someone who’d make it far in live would rule against the poor like he used to be…

But you weren’t you were *trash*

You were lower lower class you were nothing…..

Yet why couldn’t he stop thinking about you?

He had a wife who he fell out of love with before he even met you…..swore he’d never fall in love again after distancing himself with his family and starting the games…..

But you just had to be lucky star didn’t you?

You were “kind” and not in a pushover kind of way just….kind like kind that would not take shit from people but would help others in need….and didn’t hide your opinions from others that deserved it….

It was disgusting but…..In a good way? He wanted you not in a possessive way but in a way type of wanting to care for you and you care for him-

*He shook those thoughts off ugh. Why now? He’s usually so calm and collected…..at first he wouldn’t lie he was hoping you’d die in one of the earlier games but now….he isn’t so sure. Gi hun already has plans to take the guns and fight back he had a plan problem was…..you were apart of the main plan

He probably had to kill you it’s probably a good thing but…now he isn’t so sure he’s gotten along with you great and he has a tiny bit of hope that you even like him back so for you to find out he runs these games….he can’t risk it

You’ll find out anyway but he doesn’t wanna face you to your face he atleast wants to hide behind a mask atleast imagining what you’d say…..

Currently he’s trying to convince himself that these feelings aren’t real……maybe it’s just attraction? Of course you’re really good looking maybe it’s that!

“Uh In ho?”

*He turns around that voice dreaded him more then anything the voice he was ready to hear-*

“Are you okay In ho?”

It was Gi hun

*He unfortunately realised that after breaking out of his rare trance he blinked for a few seconds then nodded*

“What is it?”

*Gi hun shrugged* “Nothing you seemed out of it….” *In ho stared at the ground trying to seem calm but spoke in a bitter tone* “I’m fine…” *He let his eyes wander to you who was talking to he thinks Junhee the pregnant lady? Gi hun noticed and raised an eyebrow* “Maybe Y/n will cheer you up…..Hey y/n!”

*You raised an eyebrow nodding at Junhee before walking away up to the two men.*

“You guys need something?” *In ho sighed he’s been trying to avoid hearing your voice….and you in general.* “In ho seems nervous I thought you’d be better at calming him down…*

*As Gi hun left you leaned your back on the bars of the bed he was sitting on….he couldn’t even look at you.*

“So. What is it?” *You asked he didn’t look at you but he could tell you seemed concerned*

“……” “In ho?” “…….If somebody did something almost unforgivable in any way…..what would you do?” “……What?” *You were confused rightfully you knew he was like this but for the way he got was so….* “Just answer the question…..please.” “Well if we were close I’d….wanna know why. Depending on what they did it’s…..hard to say hey are you saying this cause you’re worried or something i understand i am too but…..don’t focus on the negative so much you know?” *As usual kind…..how could such a good human like you be in these games yet he knew…..He is the front man after all he decided to atleast “ask you” and bond maybe a bit before he has to let you go….*

“Yeah you’re right as logical as ever so why are……you in debt if you don’t mind answering?”

*He felt you rise up you stared squinting your eyes then smiling* “Damn didn’t expect anyone to ask me that….don’t think it’s important.”

*Oh he knows what it is why wouldn’t he a petty part of him felt betrayed some what you weren’t gonna tell him after how close you’ve gotten but he decided to keep his cool.*

“You don’t have to tell you i just asked since we might be leaving this place or if neither of us..make it.” *You groaned* “The pessimism again In ho? Jeez you could…..I’ll tell you though cause you do have a point.”

“Well i used to be pretty rich and well-“ *As you went into your story he already knew it but continued to listen you were rich worked in a high payed business workplace but like most work places favouritism is common. Which unfortunately lead to your downfall.* “Anyways one day I found out i was being underpayed a lot of money so I complained this and that and i got a warning complained again then got fired…..It was hard to find a job i didn’t pay the bills for a lot of things debt grew bigger and bigger then a man asked me to play a game one day and well…..here i am.” *Ah yes In ho nodded at your story he knew it all he was the person who called for you to be in the game….you were a wonderful person honestly what was he thinking you were too good for a game like this is something he of all people would never think he would say.* “Im sorry you don’t deserve to be here after all it’s not your fault you’re in debt…” *You shook your head* “Eh I didn’t have a good of a college degree anyway maybe if I studied more in college I wouldn’t be here but eh atleast i got to meet you?” *In ho sighed and he didn’t want to or realise it but he couldn’t help but let a small smile rise genuinely.* “I suppose it’s…..mutual.”

*You sighed smiling* “I can’t wait for tomorrow we’ll finally *maybe* get out of here right?” *He felt his heart stop for a second oh yeah…..that*

*He awkwardly cleared his throat* “Oh yeah I suppose this game will….end and we’ll probably never see each other again” *You snorted* “We can still talk, we can meet up together and talk and stuff it’s not like we need to forget each other…”

*”That’s right” In ho thought he needed to forget you maybe these feelings would go away….but the the thoughts came he didn’t want to but…..”I killed my brother damn it! I can do this I’ve talked to them for only a few days this is…”*

“In ho??” *He stared up at you instinctively like an animal almost he stopped himself and regained his composure.* “Jeez you seem tense maybe get some rest…” “No im…..just thinking….about all the bad decisions…..humans can make.” *You hmmd* “I suppose so humans can be evil if given the chance with such power.” *In ho nodded* “Have you ever thought of doing something regrettable?” *In ho wasn’t sure why he was asking these…..questions but maybe it was to see the inhuman side of them to make him disgusted in you? Maybe that’ll work.* “Well I’ll admit yeah…..I got bullied and when I found out there father had cancer i wanted to well bring it up tear them down….i think i was about 14.” *You didn’t seem shameful you seemed to regret it but not shamed it only made In ho admire you more as he hated it.* “So why didn’t you do anything?” *You laughed a bit* “I would of if it wasn’t for me asking my mom and telling her like i was about to do the best thing she got mad scolded me and told me a different way a better way to handle bullying……and I’ve used that advice since.”

*He quirked an eyebrow what would it be that he hasn’t heard ignore them stand up for yourself be the the bigger person?*

“Be better than them…..because bullies are the weakest of the weakest in society strategy they don’t want you knowing is you finding out you’re better then them.” *He knows that advice he’s never thought much of it but hearing it from you automatically makes him wanna know more…* “Well then your mom raised such a lovely person….you should be proud.” *You scoffed laughing a bit* “I made a lot of mistakes that i can’t even say thought of some weird stuff im glad i didn’t say or do anyways……yeah. We’re human everyone has made one bad mistake you’ll dwell on for the rest of your life my advice is well…..did you regret it?”

*In ho sighed smiling* “Thanks for the advice I’ll rest for a bit” *You got up smiling and leaving that’s it.* “Y/n you’ll always be in my memory….” *In ho didn’t know what to do with them maybe ask them to join him? No! That would be so idiotic they’d never agree….try to make them understand? Maybe let them go? Why doesn’t he want that…..he then smiled.* “I can’t wait for tomorrow y/n you’re so unpredictable maybe you could stay with me…..”

Anddddd a cliffhanger sorry if this is ooc i was halfasleep writing this 😭

[my-castles-crumbling]

request from @eden-3000

Everyone reacts differently. Offers different ways of comfort and compassion. Or....something less soft.

"That time of the month again, Reg?" Barty asks, always the first to notice. His way of helping, Regulus supposes, is by acting so normal about it. By not shying away from it.

Evan's way of helping is by smacking Barty upside the head and telling him to stop being a dick.

Pandora and Dorcas are less crass. Neither of them mention it, but Regulus knows Evan has passed the news along. So he's unsurprised when Pandora wordlessly hands him a book, which is hollowed out to hold the products he needs but loathes buying. He's pleased when Dorcas, who will usually curse someone for getting between her and a chocolate cake, offers him half of her slice.

Remus, of course, is the one that is the closest to understanding. They have an unspoken agreement. Regulus does Remus's Potions homework during Full Moons, and Remus does Regulus's Defense homework when he is trying to get through his waves of dysphoria. And when those two weeks happen at the same time? They both skip their homework and throw things in the Lake while grumbling about their problems. Today, he finds a completed Charms essay in his bag, and he has no clue how it got there.

Sirius is always the best and fighting away the rolling tides of self-hatred Regulus fights constantly, but especially during this time. He just plops himself down next to Regulus every chance that he gets, jabbering on and telling stupid jokes and being generally obnoxious, and making Regulus laugh in spite of himself. His brother, the first person he told, the first person to accept him. Gods, he loves him for his ridiculousness.

But James...James is the best at just being with him. A constant physical presence. A hand on his aching back, a comforting whisper in his ear. He never falters. For some reason, it is James who he cries to and confesses to about his feelings. Who he finds himself sharing the feelings of dysphoria with. Who he curls up and cries with, and falls asleep next to. He questions so many times what he's done in this life to deserve this kind of unwavering love and James just kisses the questions away. "You're you," he answers simply, again massaging his tense shoulders, having snuck into the Slytherin Dorms to hold him until he falls asleep.

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕻ICK & CHOOSE

Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

summary: your best friend, dani can be a really possessive freak and you guys fight about it a lot. when you get a new boyfriend, she was falling back into her toxic ways, but you—maybe, just maybe—kinda find her jealousy… hot?

warnings: slight!nsfw, suggestive/sexual themes, harsh language, mean/toxic!dani, pushover!reader, cheating

Daniela had always been a territorial woman. Since her days on the playground, sneering at any kid who would come up and try to snag her seat on the swing or in high school, when she’d yank a girl’s scalp off for taking her cheer spot.

Being Daniela’s best friend could be really exhausting at times, especially when she saw you as just another thing she owned.

Even in middle school, people would mistake Daniela as your girlfriend, the way she’d always have an arm over you or scare off any interested boy or girl with one cold glare. And nobody dared give you a second glance. As much as her reputation shielded you from any potential threat, it stripped you of your freedom to experience things in the dating scene.

And honestly, she has no shame in taking accountability for it.

Daniela truly believed nobody was good enough. They would always be too tall, too short, too annoying, too quiet—nobody ever satisfied her rigid standard for your partners.

You’d spend nights in her room, after sending the boy you’re talking to home to recover from a night of mean and passive comments from Daniela, fighting her about her attitude.

She’d always roll her eyes, calling you ‘insane for getting mad at wanting to protect you’. But she’d somehow always make it up to you in some half-assed apology and big puppy dog eyes, taking you out for ice-cream, making sure you’d crawl straight back into her open arms.

And like the fucking pushover you were, you would.

You met Jake at a really cool record store. You stopped by the place after work—alone, because Daniela was still caught up at rehearsal—and you were greeted by a well-dressed boy with a thick Australian accent.

The two of you had shared a similar taste in music, and he made you laugh in a way you hadn’t in a very long time. When he asked you for your number, you didn’t have to give it much thought—you wanted to see this man again.

You didn’t mention the encounter to Daniela when she asked about your day that night. She would absolutely freak.

The months after you met Jake, you would hang out with him whenever Daniela was unavailable. You felt so free, mind in such a happy state whenever you were around him.

You felt you worry less about Daniela when you held hands for the first time when Daniela bailed on you for a Katseye bonding thing, when he kissed you under the snow during Christmas eve when Daniela wanted to go clubbing with Manon, when he brought you to dinner over a city view of LA to ask you officially to be his girlfriend with flowers and a record of the band you both adored.

You remembered feeling an argument with Daniela arise that night when she called to ditch you for her career for the nth time. She was making up some bullshit reason, when she was just choosing to prioritize her bandmates above you.

You sighed, wanting out before things got tense.

It caught her off guard when you would just tell her a simple “no problem, see you” instead of whine like usual.

She knew something was up; you had been acting off for months, the effect she had on you—the control she had on your relationship—was slipping through her fingers.

Which brings us to now, you in Jake’s car after calling him the moment you hung up on Daniela.

“No, I’m telling you, you need to watch the movies in order from best to worst, not chronologically,” Jake insisted, his eyes trained on the road, “It won’t make sense, but it’s better.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. You interlaced your fingers with his on your thigh.

“I don’t know why you love those movies so much, it’s just about grown men driving fast cars and tokyo drifting.” you teased, immediately scoffing at the loud gasp he let out.

“Don’t you disrespect the Fast & Furious franchise like that.”

You looked at him, admiring his side profile as he sped through the busy LA streets. You reached out to run a hand through his styled, black hair, feeling him buzz as he chuckled. “What?”

“Thanks for taking me out tonight, Jake.”

He brought your intertwined hands up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. “Of course, love. I’ll take you wherever you want, just give me a call.”

Before you could answer, your phone buzzed, interrupting the music you were playing on bluetooth. Siri read out the contact name and you froze; “Text message from, ‘DANI ♡’. On my way to your house, I’m bringing booze’. Reply?”

Your hand untangled from Jake’s grabbing your phone to quickly silence the message. You shot her a quick “sounds good” before shoving your phone into your purse. Jake raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you quickly before he had to avert his gaze back to traffic. “Didn’t you say Dani was off partying tonight with her friends tonight?”

You nodded, smile faltering. “Yeah, but it’s fine. She probably needs a place closer to downtown to crash, she does this when they go out, my apartment’s closer than their dorm.”

Jake hummed, “So… I can’t stay over tonight?”

He drove into a small street and pulled into your driveway, turning the ignition off. Jake turned in his seat, his piercing eyes now fully focused on you as he grabbed your hand again. He pouted, quivering his lip dramatically as he sniffed.

“Guess not. Tomorrow night?”

He nodded, before getting out the car and running over to your side. He popped open your door, a hand held out to take yours as you both stood on the side of your car. He leant against the hood, hands on your hips as he smiled. “I’m glad you called, I’d rather be out with you than doing some lame spreadsheet for my stupid clients.”

You chuckled, slapping his chest. “Those stupid clients pay your bills, Jake. But thanks for dinner, that place was amazing. We should go back some time, it’s a nice excuse to dress up.”

He bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. “Oh, we’re going back if it means I get to see you in this smoking outfit again.”

“Okay, perv. I have to get out of said smoking outfit before Dani gets here.” You leant in, smirking, “Wouldn’t want anyone but you seeing me like this now, would I?”

He took your lips in for a long kiss, moving against yours in sync. You pulled away before he could deepen the kiss anymore, because you knew he’d sweet-talk his way into having you get back into his car.

“Goodnight, Mr. Sim.” You whispered, hands slipping from his shoulders down to his hands before pulling apart. You backed towards your front door, watching him blow you a kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“You got it… Mrs. Sim.” He smiled, his hands in the pockets of his suit. “Have fun with Dani. I love you.”

You feel a flutter in your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement, and you’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even notice Daniela standing in your bedroom window.

The door closed softly behind you, and when you retreat to your room, you saw her. She’s leaning back casually, one leg crossed over the other, but there’s nothing relaxed about the way her eyes are fixed on you. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her jaw is tight.

"Well, well," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Looks like you had fun."

You blinked, caught off guard. "God, Dani, you scared me.”

She was lying on your bed, a magazine from your nightstand sprawled out in front of her as she threw a swig of beer back. “I thought I’d come since I was in the neighborhood. Clearly, I shouldn’t have bothered—you’ve got a new little boyfriend for that now, don’t you?"

Her words are laced with venom, and it sets you on edge. "His name is Jake. He drove me home after a date, that’s all. Why are you acting like this?"

"Like this?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I just watched you make out with that fucktard in a suit in front of your house like you’re in some cheap rom-com."

Your cheeks flushed, both with embarrassment and irritation. "You were watching us? Dani, that’s insane."

"What’s insane," she said, stepping closer, "is you wasting your time on someone like him while you leave me waiting."

"Stop it," you snapped your voice rising. "You don’t know him.”

She laughed sarcastically, shaking her head. "I don’t need to know him. I know you. And I know you’re settling for someone go definitely doesn’t deserve what you can give."

You crossed your arms, trying to steady yourself under the weight of her intense gaze. "And what do I deserve, Dani? Someone like you?"

The words are out before you can think better of them, and for a moment, there’s silence. Her expression hardened, but there’s something else there—something raw and unguarded.

“I just don’t think he’s good for you,” Daniela scoffed, her hands in her pockets. Her sharp eyes glared straight at you from across the bed, swinging her legs over your sheets to sit on the edge of your bed. “I mean, when was the last time you had time for yourself, really?”

You groaned, shaking your head. “This is not up for discussion, Dani, I’m not about to argue about this with you, okay?”

“I want what’s best for you, mami, and it’s so obvious you’re not even that into him.” She barked. She watched you take your hair out, fluffing it out as you stripped out of your jacket, shaking off your heels, then the tight and skimpy dress you had hugging your skin. “Why’re you entertaining this prick?”

“How would you know what’s good for me? You haven’t given me any of your time since you debuted,” you sighed, “Y’know I’m very happy for you, Dani, but I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Oh my God, it’s my opinion!”

“Well it’s not your opinion to have!” You raised your voice, “For the love of God, Dani, I’m not some pet you own. I don’t have to run every little thing or decision in my life by you before I do them, okay? And while you’re out drinking and fucking girls, Jake has kept me company. He doesn’t make plans and then call to cancel last minute. And he’s not a prick.”

Daniela’s nose scrunched as she held back a snarl. Her fingers tightened around your sheets, scrunching under her white knuckles. Oh, if she could have five minutes locked in a room with this guy, she would beat his face in so much he’d taste his own brain. He was tainting Daniela’s perfect little girl.

“I work extra hard so I can take you on vacations during my breaks. I deserve some downtime, don’t you think?” She stood, tilting her head, “It doesn’t really matter anyway, does it? While I’m out fucking those girls, you’re busy fucking him.”

“And what’s wrong with that, exactly? I’m a grown woman.”

“A grown woman who doesn’t even know what she wants,” Daniela muttered through gritted teeth. She walked closer to you as you backed away from her, eventually, your back hit the wall. “A grown woman who left her best friend waiting in her house while macking her boyfriend on his car outside like a whore. A grown woman who let the first guy who showed her any interest shove his dick in her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening at her harsh words. She was always mean, but she had never been so cruel before. You felt tears well into your eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

“No? You hurt ‘cuz I’m right, mami?” She laughed at your reaction, a hand resting against the wall beside your head. “When have I ever been wrong?”

She had a point. She was really toxic with it, but she was seldom wrong. Still, you were absolutely over the way she treated you. You weren’t the same high-school girl who was loyal to a fault who would agree with everything she said.

“How much do you fuck in a week, hm?”

You swallowed thickly, turning away to avoid her heavy gaze. You knew to never stare straight into those piercing eyes, it was a trap. “That’s none of your business.”

“Bet he starts feeling you up every time, you say ‘no’ but after a couple drinks and couple kisses, you end up letting him touch you.” Her voice was low and husky, her breath grazing your cheek. “Then you wake up in his bed, feeling real good about yourself, before you leave him to come see me.”

Sex with Jake was a sensitive topic. He was a very passionate guy, very touchy and he loved inviting you over to his place a lot. You always thought he rushed into it too much, but you tried not to pay those thoughts any mind because you wanted to keep him happy.

“Dani, please, just stop.”

“He’s a placeholder,” she interrupts, her tone sharp and unforgiving. “You’re so desperate for someone to love you that you’ve settled for the first guy you see. It’s pathetic, honestly.”

Anger was gradually taking over your bruised self-esteem, but so does something else—something you can’t quite name. Daniela’s words sting, but the way she’s looking at you now, her eyes burning with intensity, her plump lips spitting out whatever insults she could think of and her body mere inches away from yours. It made your stomach churn… or flutter?

“Get off me. You’re being an asshole about this and I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” you say, though your voice wavers slightly. “You don’t decide who I fuck and that’s that.”

“Oh, don’t I?” She leans forward, closing the space between you, and suddenly the air feels charged. Her gaze drops to your lips for the briefest of moments before snapping back to your eyes. “I’ve seen you in ways he never will, loved you better than he ever can. I know you better than anyone. Better than yourself. And I’m not about to sit back and watch you throw yourself away on someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

Her words are venomous, but her proximity is intoxicating. You wanted to shove her away, to tell her she crossed the line—but you can’t. Because part of you knew it meant she cared, and after months of feeling neglected, you craved it.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you muttered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Am I?” Her hand comes up to cup your jaw, her fingers firm against your skin. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me everything I just said isn’t true and I’ll back off.”

You couldn’t. Because she was right. You didn’t want to say it though, to give her the satisfaction.

“Whatever. I’m gonna take a shower, you better be gone when I get out.” You warned, gently shoving her backwards. “Take the booze. I don’t wanna see you until you stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum at their mom not getting them candy.”

“Don’t walk away from me.” She tutted, pulling you back by your wrist. Before you could tell her off, you felt her grab you by the waist, her lips silencing whatever you had to say.

It’s not gentle or soft—it’s fierce and demanding, exactly like everything else about Daniela. Her lips thrashed against yours, her nails digging into your skin as if she’s trying to stake her claim. Her hand crept up to your neck, fingers squeezing the sides of your jaw slightly as she gripped your throat. Your mind screamed at you to pull away, to tell her this was insane, but your body betrayed you. You kissed her back, letting out a soft moan as she pulled your lip back between her teeth.

Her possessiveness, her toxicity—it should repulse you. You always thought it did. But now, with her pinning you to your bed as her cool hands snaked up your stomach, things seemed clearer. The way she took control, the way she pushed you to the edge—it was irresistibly hot.

When she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen, her breathing ragged. Her eyes hooded and her pupils blown wide. “You don’t like me staying out late? Fucking whatever bitches who throw themselves at me?” she rasped. “If you missed me that much, you could’ve just told me, mami. I would’ve dropped anything to come see you.”

Daniela doesn’t give you time to think. Her hand slid from your throat to your heaving chest. She smirked, a mix of arrogance and desire, and leant in again.

“You like this, baby?” she murmured, her lips ghosting over yours, teasing but not quite touching. “You like me putting you in your place? Maybe if I’d done this earlier, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into that fuckface’s arms.”

You want to deny it, to push her away and tell her she’s wrong, but the words catch in your throat. The truth is written all over your flushed skin, in the way your breath hitches every time her lips get closer.

“Answer me,” she demanded, her voice low and commanding.

“Yes, Dani, yes, I do.” You panted breathily.

She grinned in satisfaction, the grill in her teeth shining under the dim lights on in your room. She quickly muffled any noises that came from your mouth with another kiss, deeper this time. Her fingers were quick to grab at the hem of your dress, tugging it up just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. She took advantage, her tongue sliding against yours, and it was absolutely dizzying, intoxicating.

Her knee pressed between your thighs, you gripped her shoulders, nails digging into her skin as if to ground yourself, but it only seemed to turn her on.

“He’s just a blank piece of shit who wants to get his dick sucked,” she whispered against your lips, her voice dripping with venom and passion. “Tell me who you belong to, mami.”

Every word she said, every move she made, set your skin ablaze. You were getting hot and needy, your body aching at the absence of her touch.

“Dani,” you breathed, her name slipping from your lips like a confession, a surrender.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her dark eyes searching yours. “Say it,” she repeated, softer this time but no less insistent. “So you won’t ever forget it.”

“I’m yours,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “You own me, Dani.”

Her lips curl into a victorious smile, and she leans in, her breath hot against your ear. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, her voice sending shivers through you. “I’m gonna spell my name out in hickeys, so that boy you of yours know it too.”

Before you could respond, she’s kissing you again, more demanding, more consuming. Every touch, every movement feels like a claim, a declaration that you belong to her and no one else. You’re lost in her, in the intensity of it all, and for the first time, you don’t want to mind Daniela’s possessiveness.

You knew you’d fight about this in the morning, but confusion was definitely pushed to be experienced in the morning…

Jakey :) Hey baby you left your wallet in my car

Jakey :) Can I come drop it off really quick?

[etheraltides]

Fractured Devotion

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe’s addiction and mounting debts push him to the edge after a threatening encounter with Barry. As the boy you love clings to you for comfort, you must decide how far you’re willing to go to save him.

Warning(s): drug use and addiction, volatile behavior (I mean it’s season one rafe), violence.

You sat on the edge of Rafe’s bed, flipping absently through a magazine you found on his nightstand. It was some glossy publication, all luxury homes and island life aesthetics. You weren’t paying attention to the words. Instead, you listened to the faint echoes of muffled voices downstairs.

Rafe was arguing with his dad again.

It had been a year since you’d started dating him, but it felt like you’d spent half of that time comforting him after some blow-up with Ward. Lately, though, it was getting worse. The fights were louder, angrier, and left Rafe spiraling into moods you struggled to pull him out of.

You adjusted the strap of your sundress, feeling a prickle of unease. You’d noticed how his behavior had changed over the past few weeks – more erratic, more aggressive. He was drinking more, using more. And when you tried to talk to him about it, he brushed it off with a smirk and a dismissive wave of his hand.

“He’s just so…ungrateful, you know?” Rafe’s voice carried through the door as he stormed into the room, slamming it behind him. His chest rose and fell with barely-contained rage, his blue eyes sharp and angry.

You looked up, setting the magazine aside. “Rafe, what happened?”

He raked a hand through his messy blonde hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Sarah,” he spat, as if her name tasted bitter. “That little traitor.”

Your brows knitted in concern. “What did she do?”

“She’s siding with them. With John B and those Pogue losers. She’s supposed to be my sister, our family, but she’s out there, screwing around with him instead of standing by us.” He stopped pacing and turned to you, his expression hardening. “Do you even know what that’s like? To have your own blood turn on you?”

You didn’t know how to answer, so you stood and reached for his hand. “Rafe, calm down. She’s just a kid. Maybe she doesn’t—”

“Don’t defend her!” he snapped, pulling away from your touch. “She’s tearing this family apart, and Dad just lets her do it. Like she’s perfect and I’m…”

His voice trailed off, but the look in his eyes – the self-loathing barely hidden under the anger – made your chest ache.

“You’re not a failure, Rafe.” you said softly, stepping closer. “You’re just—”

“What?” He laughed, sharp and bitter. “Go ahead, say it. I’m just what, (Y/N)? A mess? A junkie? A disappointment?”

“No.” you insisted, but he was already spiraling.

Rafe’s hand shot out, knocking a lamp off the bedside table. It crashed to the floor, the bulb shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. You flinched, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I do everything for him,” Rafe said, his voice rising. “I do everything he asks – everything he needs – and it’s never enough. Sarah can screw off to Pogueland but all Dad sees is me. The screw-up. The kid who can’t get it right.”

“Rafe…” Your voice trembled as you watched him punch the wall, his knuckles splitting against the drywall. You’d never seen him this unhinged before.

“I’m the one holding everything together!” he shouted, ignoring the blood dripping from his hand. “I’m the one doing the dirty work, making sure this family doesn’t fall apart. And for what? So I can listen to his voice in my head, telling me I’m worthless?”

He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. “Sometimes I think he’s right. Maybe I am just…broken.”

Your heart broke at the sight of him. You wanted to reach out, to pull him into your arms and tell him everything would be okay. But you weren’t sure if he’d let you, or if he’d push you away like he always did when he felt too vulnerable.

“You’re not broken, Rafe.” you said, sitting beside him. “You’re just hurting. And I want to help you, but you have to let me in.”

For a moment, he looked at you like he wanted to believe you. But then the mask of cocky indifference slid back into place. He stood, grabbing his jacket.

“Where are you going?” you asked, panic rising in your chest.

“Out.” he said curtly. “Don’t wait up.”

The door slammed open with a loud crash, startling you out of your thoughts. Rafe stumbled in, his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light. He was a mess. His shirt clung to his damp skin, his hair was disheveled, and his pupils were blown wide, a wild, unhinged energy radiating off him.

“Rafe?” you called hesitantly, standing from the bed. The moment your voice broke the silence, his gaze snapped to you, sharp and glassy.

“What are you still doing here?” he muttered, slurring his words slightly. “I thought you’d leave. Everyone leaves.”

“I wasn’t going to leave” you said softly, keeping your tone steady despite the unease creeping up your spine. “What happened? Where were you?”

He ignored your question, pacing the room erratically, his hands tugging at his hair. “Barry.”he spat, the name dripping with venom. “That piece of shit thinks he can threaten me. Me!”

The name sent a chill down your spine. You’d heard the rumors about Barry, but Rafe had always brushed off your questions, assuring you it wasn’t serious. Now, though, the weight of his words pressed heavily on your chest.

“Rafe, what do you mean he threatened you?” you asked, stepping closer. “What’s going on?”

He stopped pacing and turned to you, his expression wild. “What’s going on?” he repeated mockingly. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. I owe Barry money – a lot of money – and now he’s acting like I’m his bitch or something. Like I’m just some loser who can’t handle my business.”

Your stomach dropped. “How much money, Rafe?”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“How much?” you pressed, your voice trembling.

“Does it matter?” he snapped, his anger flaring. “I’ll take care of it. I don’t need you or anyone else to swoop in and save me, alright?”

You took a step back, shocked by the venom in his tone. But then you saw it – the fear buried beneath his anger, the shame flickering in his eyes. He wasn’t just angry. He was scared.

“Rafe.” you said carefully, “how much do you owe him?”

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Ten grand, alright?” he finally muttered, his voice barely audible.

You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you. Ten thousand dollars. That wasn’t just a debt – it was a noose tightening around his neck.

“Rafe…” you began, but he cut you off, his voice rising again.

“I’ll figure it out, okay? I always do. Barry doesn’t scare me. He’s just a lowlife who thinks he’s bigger than he is.”

“Raphael, stop.” You stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. He tensed under your touch, but you didn’t let go. “Let me help you.”

“What?” he barked, his laugh bitter and sharp. “You want to help me? With what, Y/N? You gonna go have a chat with Barry? Maybe flash your pretty tits and make him forget I owe him ten grand?”

“Don’t!” you said firmly, refusing to back down. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m trying to help you, Rafe.”

“Help me?” he repeated, pulling away from you. “You don’t get it. This isn’t something you can just fix with your stupid optimism and your little good-girl act.”

“I can pay it.” you said suddenly, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

Rafe froze, his wild eyes locking onto yours. “What did you just say?”

“I’ll pay him.” you said again, your voice steadier this time. “I have savings. I’ll pay Barry, and you can pay me back when you’re ready.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of Rafe’s ragged breathing. Then he exploded.

“Are you insane?” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. “You think I’m going to let you do that? Let you clean up my mess like I’m some kind of charity case?”

“I’m not doing it to embarrass you, Rafe,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “I’m doing it because I care about you. Because I don’t want Barry coming after you – or worse.”

“Worse?” he repeated, his voice dropping dangerously low. “What do you think he’s gonna do, huh? You think he’s gonna kill me? Barry’s all talk. He’s nothing.”

“Then why are you so scared?” you shot back, your frustration bubbling over. “Why are you pacing and yelling and breaking things if it’s not a big deal?”

He stared at you, his chest heaving, his face twisted with anger and something else –something raw and vulnerable. “Because I can’t lose you.” he finally said, his voice breaking. “Because if you get involved in this, Barry’s not just coming after me. He’s coming after you, too.”

You took a shaky breath, your heart aching at the pain in his voice. “He won’t come after me because I’ll pay him, silly”

For a long moment, he just stood there, his shoulders slumped, his hands trembling. Then, slowly, he sank to the floor, his back against the wall. His head fell into his hands, and when he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper.

“I’m gonna fix this, okay?” he ran a hand through his hair, his words muffled.

You knelt beside him, your hand gently brushing his. “Then let me help you.” you said softly. “Not just with the money – with all of it. But you have to let me in, Rafe. You have to trust me. I’m not your enemy here.”

He looked at you, his blue eyes glassy with unshed tears, his lips trembling as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t. Instead, he reached out and pulled you toward him, his hands gripping your waist tightly, almost desperately.

His lips crashed against yours in a bruising, frantic kiss. It wasn’t soft or sweet – it was raw, messy, and full of need. His fingers dug into your sides as his mouth moved against yours, the kiss a mix of desperation and hunger. He kissed you like you were the only thing anchoring him, like he was drowning and you were his lifeline.

You gasped against his lips, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in his hair. His body pressed against yours, his movements erratic and uncoordinated, but his need for you was undeniable.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breaths ragged. “Shit. I don’t deserve you.” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“No, you don’t.” you whispered, your hands gently cupping his face. “But you’ve got me anyway.”

For the first time that night, he let out a shaky laugh – a sound filled with both relief and sadness. He kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense, as if trying to convince himself that you were real.

[runninriot]

Pining Idiots

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 28

prompt: pining | rated: T | wc: 1.000 | tags: post vecna, mild angst, feelings realisation, love confession, friends to lovers, best friend Robin Buckley

   "You are both so stupid. Hopeless and stupid." Robin throws her hands in the air, frustrated and all out of patience.

Steve must've heard her say those words about a hundred times already but still, he can't find it in him to believe that there's even a flicker of truth within her reasoning.

If Robin were right, Steve would've caught Eddie by now, apparently stealing glances at him. Because there's no way he'd miss Eddie's dark eyes lingering on him, not when Steve's own - for whatever reason - are constantly locked on the guy. He feels naturally drawn to Eddie, has this weird connection to him he can't really explain. But contrary to what Robin is trying to make him consider, he doesn't accept that it's... love.

They're friends. Good friends, maybe even the best. Grown so close over time that now, barely a day goes by where they don't spend time together. Always attached at the hip, somehow even worse than he is with Robin. And yes, Steve gets that it comes off strange for any outsider to see them cuddling and touching and kissing each other goodbye on the cheek without shame. That's not what male friends do, not usually. But fuck that, it's nice.

He enjoys the physical contact. Likes to relish in the other man's warmth when their bodies are pressed together on the couch, one arm around the other's shoulders, or a hand resting on the other's thigh. He likes the familiar scent of leather and cigarette smoke that clings to Eddie's hair and skin, enveloping Steve's senses whenever they're close. Eddie's presence calms him, makes him feel less on edge. After all those years of fighting Demons, it's a blessing to feel at ease.

Eddie is good for him. And Steve knows he, too, has an impact on Eddie. That he's less fidgety when Steve is near. That whenever the healed wounds start to phantom-ache, Steve's hand atop his shirt soothes his body's memorised pain.

They're each other's lifeline, something to hold on to when the turbulent waters of nightmarish dreams threaten to pull them down. This... trauma bond they share, this friendship, keeps them both afloat. But that's all there is to it.

They are not the pining idiots Robin says they are. Apparently too afraid of their feelings for each other, unable to acknowledge that there is something more between them. Emotions allegedly written all over their faces – Robin says it’s obvious, but it’s not.

This isn't love.

It can't be. Steve cannot let himself fall for this ridiculous idea. Because once he goes down that path, once he starts listening close to his heart in search of the truth, there will be no going back.

And he's not ready to lose what he has. Because inevitably, that would be the result of him breaking down the walls he's built to keep his own emotions in check.

Steve cannot love like a normal human being. He is too much, wants too much, gives too much - his love is smothering. All-consuming.

He'd only push Eddie away.

   "Why don't you just ask him?"

Robin's words rip him out of his thoughts and he blinks at her confused.

They're still standing in the kitchen, their friend's voices coming from the other room.

   "You know, if you don't believe me, why don't you ask him if it's true? And if it's not, well. You got nothing to lose. 'Cause you're not in love with him anyway, right?"

He doesn't miss the teasing tone, knows she's testing him, trying to break through his thick skull because she knows that he's lying to himself. Knows him better than he knows himself.

   "And what if you're right?" he asks, seemingly catching her off guard with his question.

   "What if you're right and he does love me back. What then? You really think I won't fuck it up again this time? That I won't ruin it again?"

It hurts to say out loud, to admit that his worst fear isn't rejection. It's the thought of having himself to blame for when it doesn't work out. As always.

And it hurts even more when Robin's face suddenly softens, eyes full of pity when she takes his hands in hers.

   "Babe. It wasn't your fault. Nancy- wasn't the one for you, that's all. You were both meant for someone else, and you-" she squeezes his hands for emphasis, "You could have all those things your stupid, big heart is yearning for. Your person is sitting right there, probably already losing his mind because you've been gone from his side for too long."

Robin laughs but her eyes are glassy and Steve can feel a tear making its way down his own face.

Fuck her for always hitting him right where it aches the most. Where her unforgiving honesty settles and sticks and makes something warm spread in his chest.

   "I know he loves you. And, as dreadful as the thought is because you two are going to be the worst couple ever, I hate to see you both suffer over nothing. Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel."

She pulls him into a hug, holds him tight while he lets his tears fall unrestrained. It's relieving but scary, because she is right.

   "Hey, uh, everything okay?" Eddie's voice suddenly breaks through the silence, startling them apart.

   "Glad you're here," Robin says, "Steve's got something to tell you." And with that, she leaves, a big grin on her face that only grows wider when Steve huffs out a wet laugh, mouthing 'I hate you' at her.

   "Stevie, are you okay? Have you been crying? What's wrong?"

Steve melts at the softness of Eddie's words, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

   "I- I think I'm in love with you, Eddie."

After a moment of silence, Eddie's lips curl into a smile.

   "Oh, well. If you're sure, let me know. I've been dying to finally kiss your pretty mouth.”

[voxslays]

Helloooo! If your requests are open, could I request Adam and Alastor fighting for a fem!reader’s love

٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Im obsessed with those two so much I need them to fight over me asap 😭‼️🎀✨

ty for the request annonie! these two are both so goofy in their own ways lol-

ADAM AND ALASTOR FIGHTING OVER READER

First things first; the only time the two of them would interact on a semi-regular basis is if Adam either fell to hell or didn’t die and was trapped. You and Charlie—being the good, peace-loving souls you are find him and take him back to the hotel.

At first, everyone hates him (for a good reason). However, overtime, everyone learns to accept him…everyone except Alastor.

Alastor and you go way back—having known each other way before the hotel was ever in the picture. You were one of the only souls he trusted down in this hell hole. So when he sees you getting close to Adam, who he knows is not only pesky and annoying—but extremely dangerous, he is extremely angry.

Back to Adam, you were one of the only kind souls when he first arrived at the hotel. You put up with his angry outbursts (which had gotten much better since you had been in the picture) and overall showed care for him. So he slowly starts to fall head over heels for you!

But uh-oh! Alastor also has feelings for you too! Not the traditional kind—because he is very confused about how he feels—yet, he feels a very strong connection and longing for you.

Alastor is the type of guy to exploit Adam’s anger issues. He would totally use one of his tentacles to pop out and trip Adam as he’s walking by and just in general make his life a living hell.

Alastor would go out of his way to make Adam seem like the undesirable option of the two of them by making Adam go into his angry rages about why sinners are terrible—even though he is one.

Adam would serenade you every night on his guitar, singing you rock songs about love as you drift off into dreamland.

Alastor would dedicate every single one of his broadcasts to you, saying how he never could’ve gotten to where he is without your love and support—even though that is NOT true. Alastor would do his absolute best to butter you up as much as possible. Even going as far to offer a soul deal, which you immediately (politely) decline.

Either way, no matter which one you choose—the one you pick WILL rub it in to the ‘losers’ face. These two could never be poly together, especially after their battle in episode eight.

[dilf-docs]

A Pillar I Am Of Pride

vander x younger!fem reader

summary: you're too young, that's what he tells himself; that you could be one of his kids. but of course you have spent too much time with vi, and unfortunately for him, stubborn rhymes with your name: you just don't know when to quit.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (25ish/45ish), smut, p. in v., ofc there is SIZE KINK who do u think i am (he can choke me with those huge arms idcidc), manhandling, thigh riding, dirty talk, virgin!reader, public sex (they violating every health code on the last drop), belly bulge, cream pie, breeding kink if u squint, this is basically pwp also with happy ending (no one blows up or dies yet THIS IS my story and i say they're all happy as a big family SHUT UP)

word count: 3,142 words

side note: hope the arcane community hasn't died yet, looking at the amount of votes i received on the poll where i asked if y'all wanted stuff from the show. I LOVE VANDER!!! saw the drawing and went insane like A PRIMAL NEED TO WRITE SMTH abt one of zaun dilfs I MEAN who do u think i am???? ++based this little filthy 2D piece on the hozier song dinner and diatribes.

You just don't know when to quit.

Vander isn't dumb. He's lived enough and seen enough. He's lived enough to tell when the admiration became adoration on those big eyes of yours, that looked up to him first but now down without an ounce of shame through his sturdy built whenever you think he isn't looking.

He isn't dumb, so he knows he shouldn't encourage it. Yet, Vander also thinks there is something different about you.

There is this desire to protect you, love you like one of his kids, but there is something unique about you he can't quite tell, enough to differentiate you from viewing you as part of them, even if there's a bed belonging to you next to theirs.

He is a fool, for thinking you wouldn't end up adopting at least one of his or the kids' traits. And of course, lucky him, it had to be Violet's headstrong nature.

"Vander" you call out his name, and he's brought back to the red and the bridge.

He can still see you, eighteen, fighting against an enforcer twice your size: because he took the life of your parents, faces Vander had seen in the mines and then at their meetings, ready to fight in the name of the undercity, for a change and a future: for their daughter.

That is what Vander wants for his kids in Zaun. For you.

So he negotiates with them, even if your eyes fall when you learn the truth one evening, eavesdropping. He pleaded you not to tell the rest, afraid they'll see him differently, just like you. Still, you keep calling his name like you did at the bridge: like a hero; savior. He saved you from death, but you'd die for him.

He keeps his eyes trained on the glass he's wiping as you take a seat in the stools infront of him, unable to look you in the eyes. It kills him; gets harder each passing day. He can't keep lying to himself, but he can lie to you. Protect you, he swore he would do that when he saved you and took Powder and Vi. So, yes, he'll lie his ass off, that his heart too hasn't changed after the years; that it doesn't beat for you and only you.

"Hey, y/n" he forces out, but even saying your name brings him pain.

When did you go from a kid leaving the last remains of hope and naive kids in Zaun drop sooner than others, to a woman equally dangerous in heart and beauty? When did you stop looking like a big sister or a babysitter, to more as a mother to Mylo, Claggor, Powder and Vi?

"Vander" you call again, touching his arm softly, but it burns. It burns.

He stops what he's doing, still without sparing a glance your way.

"C'mon, V." he hates the way such a silly nickname, a monosyllable on top of that, makes him feel. "Look at me, will you?"

He does so, because he can't deny you anything.

"There you go" you laugh easily, as if you didn't know the power you held over him. "Easy, isn't it?"

"You better let me finish" stern, but a smile betrays him.

"No one is stopping you" you huff, "or bothering you"

He finishes the glass, picking up another. "You are"

"Me?" you laugh the accusation off. Then it dies down, and all that's left is the neon hues of outside, reflecting something more mellow, akin to sincerity in your face. "You're right, it's always me"

He doesn't know what to say, all words lost. Silco used to say he knew how to move the people, that masses would follow just by looking at him: Vander always knew what to say.

But as of late, during the end of the day, when it's just you and the dirty glasses he cleans away, Vander finds it hard to speak even, like you're trying to talk in a language he doesn't know, or worst, used to, yet is too old for that now.

"Where is everyone?" he asks, and when you laugh, he knows he's said something stupid. But there are more stupid things to say, like I love you, so he's safe. For now.

"Might be because we're closed" you mock. "The kids are asleep, if that's what you truly wanted to ask. Made sure of it"

The last part, whispered like a secret. He can see the dare laced in between your words, the desire that pours like the drink he's serving you right now, but he's too old to play games.

"Good" then pushes the glass to where you sit. "Drink"

"Is it new?" you inspect the glass. "I hope you're not trying to poison me"

He laughs, "You know I couldn't hurt you, y/n"

There goes that expression again, and he hates to realize he's playing along.

"I know, Vander" you take a full sip, as if showing him just how much you'd trust him. Like he could have a gun put to your head and you'd understand; like he could have a hand around your neck and you'd breath the last huffs of oxygen in his name.

Silence settles in, until you decide to break it by saying:

"You know, if you wanted to get me drunk" the drink dissapears in a rough gulp, the liquid smooth while it burns and slides down your throat, "you could've just asked"

"And for what would I want to do that?" he bites right into the bait.

The stool creaks as you get up, and he finds your face closer than the smoke and ashes of when he takes a drag.

"Because I know you too want this" you whisper, dangerously low.

His breath hitches, heart beating fast. He could break you in two, if he wanted to, but now trembles like a leaf in the wind with just your perfume and eyes piercing through his.

"Want what?" he dares to ask, duties forgotten long ago.

You click your tongue, maybe in dissapointment.

You just don't know when to quit.

"The evening's slow" now sweet, tempting. "About to end"

He feels drunk, even if he hasn't had a drop. You're lulling him right into your trap. It doesn't matter if he has stopped you before: ignoring the bat of your eyelashes, the lingering touches and the sweet words that seemed reserved for him only.

"What would you do?" he gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. To me, too coward to voice out loud; to stop this nonsense.

You walk over to him, standing still, almost defiant, even if he doubles your size; the thought only makes heat pool in your stomach. The ember of the moonlight shines over your corageous eyes, and Vander thinks he really needs to shorten your quality time with Vi. A hand traces over his defined pecs: hands he's seen before hold a gun, now touching him with a softness that doesn't belong in the undercity.

"Don't you think knowing it's late makes it easier know what I have in mind?" you laugh, and it tickles parts in his body he isn't ready to say yet. "Just give in"

You should've know when to quit.

His eyes darken, and this isn't the Vander you know. If anything, you should be scared, but you rub your thighs together, spot already wet.

"If anyone's about to give in, it's you"

Before you can register, his lips smack together with yours as he takes the lead. His big hands cup your face, traveling down until they reach your hips, and the pressure of his size feels so much better than you imagined.

"Tell your man what would yo do tonight?" huskily whispered your way. His knee finds it's way between your thighs as he applies pressure to your already slick cunt, making you yelp. "Or cat got your tongue?"

You're at loss for words, for the very first time in a while. All that time spent provoking him, edging and pushing for a reaction, so sure of the hidden flame sparking behind the curtain of smoke of his pipe, to know surrender so easily, like your body is unable to react at all.

So instead, you entangle your fingers through his greying hair, a small whine escaping your lips, the sleeping fierce need of battle now translated in the fight for dominance, his mouth growing more demanding.

Vander pushes your body against the bar, making the wood creak. He applies more pressure with his knees, making you whimper again, his tongue reaching every spot inside your sweet mouth.

"God, you're so sweet" he mumbles.

"Then why did you stop yourself all this time?" you breath out, as tempting as the shadows that walk through the streets.

Hi smiles devishly, biting your lip. "Ain't nothing stopping me no more"

He uses your body as he pleases, handling it to his complete and utter advantage, thumbs now digging into your hipbones before he feels you grinding against his knee.

"Greedy little thing. Haven't I taught you manners, ey?" but the way he looks at you, like a starved man who's been denied a meal for years, encourages you to keep rolling your hips. Once you find a steady rhythm, he releases your hips and moves to grab your wrists, pinning you down in the free bar. You whine, the pain of the hard wood on your back digging on your skin.

"Vander" you gasp, but he shuts up the pain by forcing his lips right back. His handsgrab back ahold of your thighs so you keep up the rhythm. He can feel a spot over his clothes start to dampen, doing nothing but augmenting the hunger. God, he can even feel the smell of your arousal.

You moan, head leaning back.

"Feels good?" he asks, and you mumble a nonsensical myriad of words that sound like yes. He nips your neck, making you squirm under his touch.

"C'mon, baby. I ain't deaf but I didn't hear you" Vander taunts, biting still. Now he travels to your collarbone and then tits, removing your shirt to reveal no bra under. Of course, you little vixen had planned it all and he fell like a fool. Not that he's complaining, of course, giving a lick to the soft rosy skin around your nipples.

"M-more, please!" you whimper out loud, mind numb.

"You wanted it so bad, yet can't even speak" he murmurs, sucking a spot dangerously near to your nipple. Your movements against his knee come to a halt, but he makes sure to keep you and your puffy core grinding against his thigh. "Talk"

He should know that you wouldn't give up that easily, prideful as he was, no matter if this is what you've always wanted.

"I said talk" your legs tremble around his when he forces you down harder. "I wanna hear you ask for what you say you wanted so bad, don't think I didn't notice all your traps, taunts and plays, little vixen"

The nickname makes you moan, inciting you to pour the words out.

"Ruin me, Vander" and he barely has time to react, knowing that no man has ever touched you before, your untainted territories dripping for him. "Please- take me and make me yours"

"You know I've never denied you anything" he breaths against your neck, "how could I ever say no to you if you ask so nicely, huh? I see you remembered those manners"

It's now his hand what touches between your thighs, leg long gone. His fingers rub firm circles around your clit through the cloth, making you shiver.

"Let's start small, yeah?" he encourages, "I know you're my brave girl, but I would like you to come on my fingers first"

Vander strips you down, eyes going dark when he sees your needy cunt on display. He shuffles himself down between your legs, and the pressure is new and much, you feel you could come with just the touch of his hand.

"You're so pretty. Can't believe you're giving all of this to an old man like me" he kneels down as you sit legs opened up on the bar, dragging his tongue through your wet folds.

"Sit still, yeah? Let me take care of you" he licks again, gently sucking on it as well. He can't help but wonder why he folded so easy, as if he hadn't put a stop or ignored all of your previous attempts at having him. Now he has you, under him, saying his name in a way he hadn't before, as he makes out with your puffy clit.

"Fuck" you gasp, head falling against the wood. Your hands and toes curl, waves of sensations never felt before washing over you, as Vander continues giving your pussy ministrations.

The energy is electric, your arousal flowing like a river, making wet slurping sounds come out of his lips, feeling up the empty bar, your moans as back track filling his ears. Vander's beard is covered in your juices, making all of this the more obscene.

"I see you liking it" he jokes, licking some of it off his mouth. He adjusts your legs over his broad shoulders, barely noticing the added weight. Your thighs are so close, he can feel them tremble as he slips a finger inside of you, pumping in and out.

"V-Vander" you whine in ecstasy. He loves the little sounds coming out of your mouth; obscene symphony. He adds another finger, now curling them upwards, making your walls drip more while clenching around them, loving the sensation. Your nails dig so deep, you can feel blisters inside of them, holding yourself for as what would be your first orgasm.

"I-I think I'm going to-" he can sense it, years of experience ahead from you. So now he gives his fingers a break, kneeling to let his tongue enter the game again. It swirls around the tight walls, making you squirm.

"Fingers. Now" you demand, and he's carrying your legs again on his shoulders, thrusting them inside of you aggresively. You feel your folds clench around them, your very first orgasm washing over you.

"You behaved well" he praises while kissing your puffy cunt, skin glistening and still sensible. "That's my brave girl"

He uses the cloth he's cleaned the glasses with to wipe off himself. You gasp, laughing even if your eyelids feel heavy.

"What? Think I'm gonna be dirty when I fuck the shit out of you?"

You didn't think his mouth could be so filthy, used to his fatherly side, but oh, you're not complaining. He removes his belt, pulling his pants down. Of course he's huge down there, you think, as the tent behind his underwear marks a reasonably large silhoutte.

"Now, will you be brave one last time? I don't want to scare you, or hurt you?" his boxer falls to his knees, dick hard. You gulp, but can't back off now. He, however, can sense your doubt. "Just say it, and we'll stop"

"No" even you are surprised by the conviction in your voice. "I want you, Vander. Always will"

You open up your legs, closer to the edge of the furniture. He walks over until his dick brushes your cunt, pulling up your legs once again, a position you've discovered as of today, might be your favorite.

"See, there is a reason I didn't clean you up. Don't think I don't know my manners as well"

He lubes with your still wet pussy, wasting no time to rub his dick against your glistening folds.

"We're alone, but don't want to wake up the kids, ey" you nod. "So, you'll behave?" you nod again. "Good girl"

"Now, if it hurts, tell me and I'll stop"

Vander aligns himself up with your entrance, and with one deep motion, buries himself all the way to the hilt. It's almost as if he's forgotten his gentle side.

"Mphm-" you're about to scream, but his big hands cover your mouth.

"Bad girl" he tuts, "you promised"

Your back hurts, arching itself from the wood as you take all of his girth, walls squeezing him perfectly.

"Don't worry, the pain doesn't last long" he assures you, hips going back and forth softly. He picks up the pace, slowly but determined, seeing you have adjusted to his size already. "There. Take it, my girl"

He buries himself inside of you, body numb at his size and strident movements of his hips against you.

"Y-you're so b-big" you speak up for the first time in minutes, letting out another moan. "I can even feel you-"

You don't finish the sentence but the image is there, right infront of him. That only encourages him to fuck you harder, the thrusts now more brutal and violent.

"Tell me, where you feeling me?" you can't speak, so you point to your stomach. "Yeah? Filling you up so good you can't even speak?" then pounds you even harder. The pain is intense, but so is the pleasure, making you mumble more incoherences while even tears begin to well up in your eyes.

There is pressure on your lower belly, and it's not his bulge. No, you recognize it, despite having only felt it once: your orgasm is building up again. The furniture squeaks, looking like it will break under both of your weights combined, his thrusts now sloppier and messier. He was also close, grunting when your walls begin clenching around his dick.

"Fuck, Vander" you whimper out. "I think I love you"

Before he can register the weight of your words, thick ropes of cum fill up your pussy, his whole body shaking and finally succumbing to his age. He empties himself inside of you, your greedy cunt taking every drop. It's a fleeting second, but he remember Felicia, and the news she dropped that day. He thinks of a child with your eyes and his hair, the cruel world that awaits them but still can't let you waste any of his seed.

The room goes quiet as both of you try to even your breaths. After a while, your confession settles in.

"I don't think I love you" he gets down, kissing your nose gently. "I know I do. Can't deny that anymore"

The adoration on his eyes is so pure, you feel like crying again. The feelings you kept to yourself and left like crumbs for him to pick up through out this past days have finally transformed into something real. So real, your pussy still feels warm, just as your heart.

He easily carries your body on his strong arms, up to his room. You had never slept there before, and despite the numbness, you keep your eyes open, excited as a child.

"Good" you laugh, "because I was running out of ideas"

[hyperfixationhobo]

LADS Headcanons Pt 2!!!

—————————————————————

Wooooo! Part two baby! I’m so happy you guys loved my last headcannon post!!! I hope you like this one as well!!!

Xavier:

. Says wholesome stuff in the most fucked up way possible.

. “I just wanna carve out a hole next to your heart and squeeze in it.”

. “I wanna live in your lungs so I can be the air that you breathe.”

. “The stars look gorgeous in your eyes, I wanna pluck them out and frame them.”

. Says this shit with the most innocent face.

. You made a smiley face on his pancakes once and he refuses to eat them without a smiley face on them.

. Absolutely thinks your mad at him when you don’t put a smiley face on his pancakes.

. Make it a frowny face and he knows he fucked up.

. I read somewhere that he mostly sleeps on his stomach and he most definitely sleeps with his butt semi in the air.

. Mostly it’s from a stray pillow that somehow managed to get under his hips.

Zayne:

. Obsessed with your heart in a wholesome way.

. He’s scared of not finding the cure for you so he constantly tries to feel your heartbeat.

. Hand pressed against your chest, your back, pulse points on your wrist and neck he just wants to make sure it’s beating.

. Let him sleep with his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat and he’ll truly relax.

“Just need to make sure you’re ok.”

. Has chilled sodas with his hands for Xavier.

. Bought those hand warm up bag things once.

. Now a cabinet fully stacked with them.

. Has a ton of onesies hidden somewhere in his closet.

. I think he adores jams, specifically strawberry and peach jams.

Rafayel:

. Much like how I think Zayne’s hand will be naturally cold, Rafayel’s hand would be naturally warm cause y’know, fire.

. Very sensitive when it comes to the cold, always has his studio at like 72 degrees.

. Hates winter just cause of the cold.

. I like to think his legs would be strong as hell.

. “Hey MC! Wanna see me crush a watermelon between my thighs?”

. Solid abs and strong core too cause of how mermaids swim.

. Legs are definitely more sensitive cause he’s used to having a tail and now the sensations are doubled.

. Does that fire trick thing you see where it looks like he breathes fire.

. Has almost burned his hair while doing said trick.

. I personally think that this mermaid boy can’t handle eating oysters.

Sylus:

. Can’t ice skate for shit, always falls on his ass.

. Holds a lot of respect for Zayne since the man is your doctor.

. I think he does little annoying things but isn’t aware of it cause nobody has ever told him.

. Let’s be honest no one wants to go up to this crime overlord and be like “Hey, your finger tapping is annoying can you please stop?”

. Has a very secret soft spot for Rafayel. Will never admit it, in fact he’ll happily chip off his arm to deny it.

. I like to think that Sylus enjoys spoiling those he’s close with and Rafayel most definitely likes being spoiled.

. It works perfectly.

. Walks around in nothing but a towel to grab your attention.

. Such an attention whore.

. Will cough up blood in the middle of a fight and worry that he isn’t at the right angle to make himself look attractive for you.

Bonus: Luke and Kieran!!!:

. Ok so a very personal headcanon about these two bird babies is that they’re actually brown skinned with gray fluffy hair and red eyes. Maybe it’s cause I’m black and I want to see more people of color in the game which I know is very unlikely, but it’s how I like imagining them.

. I like to think that they’re Aro/Ace cause it’s said they can feel whatever the other is feeling and even see out of each others eyes but we’re not given the limit of that ability but we know they can’t just switch it off.

. It’ll be weird that when your twin kisses his partner and you feel it as well. And very very awkward if it goes farther than that.

. They love pulling pranks on MC, much to MC’s dismay.

. They get overstimulated easily, constantly feeling, hearing, and seeing what your twin sees is a lot.

. Sylus bought them noise canceling headphones and weighted blankets to help them through these rough patches.

. Absolutely love cheese burgers. Luke’s likes his without pickles and Kieran likes pickles on his.

. Secretly feed Mephisto tiny bits of human food like fries and popcorn.

. Can’t sleep in separate rooms from one another.

. They were experimented on so it makes since they will feel most safe when they’re able to see the other and know that they’re close.

[4linos]

after the storm

han jisung x gn!reader

synopsis/request: when jisung lashes out in frustration, the hurt you feel cuts deep. the following morning, he’s full of regret and apologies, but the damage is done. will the two of you be able to find a way to heal together, or has this moment created a rift too large to fix?

wc: 1695

That day had been a storm, a silent, simmering chaos that erupted unexpectedly. It had begun with something small, something you both should have been able to discuss easily: a miscommunication about plans. You had asked Jisung to pick up groceries after work, an easy task that you had agreed upon the night before. But when you called him later to check in, he said he hadn't gone.

The reason?

"I just didn't have the energy, okay?"

It wasn’t the reason that stung; it was the tone. The dismissiveness. The way his voice had hardened, like you were the last person he wanted to talk to. You could hear it in his voice the fatigue, sure but there was something else, too. Something more dismissive, more impatient.

You tried to keep your calm. You asked him why he hadn’t mentioned this earlier, and that’s when it escalated. Jisung snapped at you.

“Why do you always have to make everything a bigger deal? I told you I was tired, and you just can’t let it go, can you?” His voice was sharp now, piercing through the calmness you’d tried to maintain. “You think I don’t have things to do? That I don’t have my own problems? Stop acting like everything’s always about you!”

The words hit you like a slap. It was not just what he said, but how he said it. The unexpected cold. The anger. It wasn't Jisung as you knew him. It wasn't the loving, caring lover who constantly looked to console you when things were tough. You had never seen this side of him before, it was raw, cruel, and unlike the person you loved. You tried to react, defend yourself, and explain that it wasn't about being selfish, but about knowing one another. But Jisung would not hear it. His irritation had gotten out of hand, and before you knew it, you were both screaming at one other, the argument growing into a conflict of hurt feelings. In the end, it was one of those exhausting arguments that left you feeling drained, defeated, like something inside had been broken.

Jisung disappeared off to the bedroom, and you had cuddled up on the couch, letting your tears fall. You were upset. You were hurt. You were mostly confused, though. You weren't expecting this venom, this hardness. You didn't expect him to lash out like that, to treat you as if you were the problem when you were just trying to keep things together.

And now it was the morning after. The house was strangely quiet. You awoke with the impression that yesterday's weight was still bearing down on you. The argument had not been settled, and there was a noticeable gap between you and Jisung, an emotional coldness that neither of you had been able to overcome just yet.

You stumbled into the kitchen, your body still feeling heavy with the aftermath of the fight. The coffee machine hummed in the background, filling the silence with the comforting sound of routine. You tried to go through the motions, hoping that the normalcy of it would ease the tightness in your chest. But the hurt from the night before was still there, lingering in every corner of your mind.

You needed space. You needed time to think.

The coffee began to brew, and as you stood there waiting, your thoughts wandered back to the argument. The way Jisung had raised his voice. The hurt in his eyes when you didn’t immediately understand his frustration. The words he had thrown at you, accusing you of being self-centered, of not caring about how he felt. You knew deep down that he hadn’t meant to hurt you. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Before you could even try to clear your mind, you heard footsteps behind you, and your heart sank.

“Hey, babe,” Jisung’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, like he was afraid to approach you after everything that had happened. He was there, standing right behind you, but there was a distance in his tone. The same distance that had grown between the two of you since yesterday.

You didn’t turn to face him. You couldn’t. Your body still felt heavy with the weight of the argument, and you didn’t know how to process the emotions that were swirling inside you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you focused on the sound of the coffee machine, the clinking of the cup, anything to avoid the rawness of the situation.

Then, without warning, you felt Jisung wrap his arms around you. He was trying to be delicate, to ease the distance between you, but his touch felt strange now. His warmth should have been reassuring, but it merely emphasized the coldness between you. You froze, your body becoming rigid at the contact. He did not seem to notice. Maybe deep down, he did. Maybe that's why he hesitated for a time, his arms tightening around you in an almost desperate cry for forgiveness, connection, and a chance to feel him as he felt you. But you couldn't move. You couldn't respond.

So you turned away from him. You swept past him as if he were not there. You didn't try to hurt him, but it was easier to stay away and protect yourself. The raw vulnerability of being hurt by someone you care about made everything feel overwhelming. You wandered to the living room and sunk onto the couch without saying anything. You didn't want to confront this. You didn't know how to handle it. The argument from yesterday was still vivid in your mind, and despite hearing guilt in his footsteps as he followed you, you couldn't bring yourself to look at him.

He stood there for a moment, hesitant, before calmly sitting next to you. He took the coffee cup from your hands, his fingers brushing across yours, and then lied down with his head on your lap. It seemed as if he was trying to get closer, to close the emotional gap, but it felt too soon. Too raw. You stared straight ahead, the TV on in the background, but you weren't watching it. The silence between you was suffocating. Your fingers were curled in your lap, but Jisung's presence in your space was undeniable, even if you didn't acknowledge it. His body was close to yours, his chest rising and falling with quiet breaths, but there was no comfort in it.

And then, in the softest voice, Jisung spoke. “I’m sorry… for yesterday. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I didn’t mean what I said. I just… I don’t know. I’ve been so stressed, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I love you, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

The words hung in the air. You wanted to say something. You wanted to reassure him, but you couldn’t quite shake the sting of what had been said. You didn’t know how to respond to his apology because, even though you knew he was sorry, it didn’t change how his words had made you feel. It didn’t change the hurt that was still fresh in your heart.

Jisung waited, his eyes closed, his hand resting on your knee, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin as if he was asking for your forgiveness without saying a word. The guilt radiated from him, and it made your chest tighten even more. He was sorry. You knew he was. But could you forgive him this easily?

You were silent at first. Instead, you let the tips of your fingers slide through his messy hair. The move was natural, something you would do any other day when the two of you were at ease. However, it felt like a truce, a period of peaceful connection in the midst of everything that just happened. Jisung let out a gentle sigh, his body softening under your touch, as if he had finally relieved some of the tension that had been building up. He nuzzled onto your lap, instinctively seeking the comfort he knew you could give him.

You gently scratched his head, without looking at him, but using your fingers in calm, controlled movements. It wasn't that you didn't care; instead, everything felt so raw. You needed time. You needed him to understand that the apology was only the first step. That rebuilding trust needed more than just words. Finally, you spoke, your voice soft but steady. "I was hurt, Jisung. What you said really stung. You can't just snap at me like that, no matter what's going through your mind. I don't deserve that. I understand you didn't mean it, but it still hurt."

You could feel him flinch slightly beneath your touch, his hand tightening around your leg, but he did not say anything. He did not try to interrupt. He just listened, which was all you needed right now. "But," you said softly, "I accept your apologies. I do. As long as you promise me this will not happen again. We can't keep doing it, Jisung. I can't keep feeling this way every time we fight. We need to figure out a better way to communicate. We need to respect each other, even when times are difficult."

Jisung nodded slowly, his forehead pressing lightly against your leg, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your breath, the two of you suspended in this quiet, fragile moment of vulnerability. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he let your fingers continue to massage his scalp, letting the weight of his apology settle between you.

“I promise,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll do better. I’ll make sure this never happens again. I love you too much to hurt you like that.”

And, for the first time since yesterday, you were able to relax and breathe a bit easier, knowing that, while the road to recovery would take time, you were both willing to try. You didn't know how things would turn out in the future, but for the time being, you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay.

//

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

💡masterlist request list 💡

[astracora]

Reckless Fool

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc

Warnings: Lots of hurt/some comfort.

Word Count: 970

Written: 29th December 2024

Notes: Pre-relationship Sylus/MC, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. I finally got out the lil brain thing that was like 'MC yells at Sylus'. There's so many memories involving this, one day we'll get a memory where MC is gentle with his wounds.

Masterlist

He’s reckless. That’s what you’ve settled on.

Throwing himself into danger. Getting himself injured.

He can’t die, so Sylus takes injury after injury. Covers you in battle, lets you shoot him, all in the name of that.

You know he can feel pain, he’s told you so.

You know that for some reason his evol just… stops. Not working, not healing, and those are the moments you fear your heart might stop.

When he’d been cursed by the cats, you’d worried that made him killable. On edge, angry at him when he followed you on a mission, his tail a stark reminder he didn’t have his powers.

It’s a stupid thing that finally breaks you.

He covers you when some kid on a bike is not paying attention. Pulling you into his arms. It’s stupid, if a gunshot to the heart didn’t kill the man. You doubt a kid on a bike would.

It doesn’t matter though, you feel the anger, the worry, the frustration settle in your gut.

He’s reckless, and you hate it.

You’re silent as you both walk home, he tries to talk to you, but you can’t respond with anything other than a word, or a grunt. It stews and it burns.

The feeling dregs up things you don’t want to think about. Fire and ash. Ice speared through skin. It hurts.

The moment you get through the apartment door, Sylus finally reaches out, hand clasping around your wrist as you keep walking, pulling you back. Whirling around to look at him. Whatever look you must have on your face, whatever he must see in your eyes causes his to widen. “Kitten?”

“Do you want to die?” You snarl, voice ice cold but trembling. His surprise gives you enough time to rip your hand from his grasp. Pulling away from him like his touch burns you.

You haven’t felt that since he held your throat in his grasp.

“I told you-”

The snarl is unbidden and unfamiliar, like you’ve grown fangs, become a beast with scales and horns. “You can’t die. You can’t die.” You reach up to push him, hands planted against his chest. Forcing him against the door. “So you’ve said. Like it changes anything. Like I feel any less horrific when I see you injured or bleeding.”

Sylus is a strong man, you’ve seen him fight and survive things that most would cower at. You’ve seen him lead and forge forwards. He has never been anything other than a pillar of strength, despite his words that the strong can’t always be strong. He has always tried to be, with and for you.

You feel sick to your stomach. Is this what you’ve done? Made him this reckless beast, in order to keep you safe?

You think about the injuries you’ve stitched up, the pain hissed through his teeth, the way he turned you away when he pulled bullets out of his flesh. ‘So you don’t have anymore nightmares of me.’

Like he knew intimately that the first time you lay awake thinking about his threat to your life.

It bubbles and it ripples, lava in your stomach, melting through you.

You pound a fist on his chest, as he stands there, hands wavering. Taking your expended frustrations. Salt on your cheeks as tears spill from your eyes, “Why don’t you care about yourself more?”

Pound.

“Why aren’t you more careful?”

Pound.

“Why don’t you stop throwing yourself into danger?”

Pound.

Pound.

Pound.

Skin under your fists as you hit, and hit, and hit. The pain burning through you.

It cracks and it splinters and you fall inwards and forwards, crumpling in on yourself. Sobbing, and breaking, and crumbling. He catches you as you fall, following you to the ground and pulling you up and into his lap as you shatter to pieces.

Pressing you against the chest you hit, holding you tightly, hands shaking against your skin.

“I can’t lose you too.” You rattle out, cracked and quiet. Mumbled into this skin, carried to him on tears.

He sighs against your hair, pressing a kiss against your head and when he speaks he sounds like he’s close to tears too, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You shake your head against him, “You can’t promise that, no one can.”

“No, I can’t, but as long as I can, as long as there’s any life in me, I’ll crawl to you if I have to.”

You hiccup, and cling to him. Trying to fuse, to be one, “It’s not enough.”

Sylus nods, “It’s not.” He uses both hands to pull your face away from him, so that he can look right into your eyes. Deep red, filled with tears he can’t shed, but trembling and wavering like a weak flame, “It’s never enough, but I won’t go down easy Beloved.”

You think of the ash and fire, of things taken from you, of lost memories and broken promises. You think of all the ways the world has failed you. You think of every night when you can’t sleep. Thinking of things you wish you could forget. As thumbs stroke your cheek, and this man who wants to be strong for you breaks his back against the torrent, you reach for his. Tracing under his eye, leaning forwards to place a kiss there.

For a moment you feel a ghost of a tear on your lips, before the sensation disappears. “Not just you.” You manage to let out, “Both of us.”

His chuckle is relieved and broken all in one, and he closes his eyes at your touch, nodding against your hold. “Both of us. Together.”

As you hold each other, against the cold and against the ashes, you whisper your apologies in kisses against his chest. Everywhere you hit, to scatter the fear to the shadows.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 52!

can you believe that this is the last rec list of 2024? because wow i can't. time flies... anyway, have a fairly holiday-heavy rec list to end the year with <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

benefits | rororowyourboat/@rosieposiepuddingnpie | 4.9k | E

When Eddie is crashing at Buck's place during the COVID shutdown, they start hooking up and... just keep going, even though they both insist to themselves and others that it doesn't mean anything. Unless... it does? literally nothing will ever hit as hard as buddie being friends with benefits but then being so dumb about it for being in love reasons <3 this captures that perfectly!

caffeine high | JessicaMDawn/@jessicamdawn | 13.9k | T

Before Buck was Buck, he was Stefan Everhart, member of a boyband called Caffeine High. His career as a celebrity lasted for only five years, and Buck has done his best to put it behind him, but those experiences still bleed into his daily life. It just so happens that there are some Caffeine High fans among the 118. i love the little peeks into buck's boyband days and how he grew up and turned into the buck we know and love in this au!!

cherry chocolate goodness on a gray day | the_milky_way | 1.3k | GA

Eddie has not a so nice day and all he wants is to snuggle up on his couch with a big tub of ice cream. Buck simply joins him. With his own tub of course. this fic makes me wish i liked cherries. so soft so buddie <3

dreams like a podcast (downloading truth in my ears) | iphigenias/@oatflatwhite | 1.3k | GA

Eddie chucks the tea towel over his shoulder and turns so his hip’s pressed against the counter and he’s facing Buck, who is wrist-deep in lukewarm dishwater and no doubt as bright red as he feels. “I think you’re cool, and smart, and hot, and I love you.” “Okay,” Buck says, stupidly. His fingers are starting to prune. “You know I—me too.” they're so cute <3 one of my favourite domestic fics!!

grief stays outside your house (until you let it in) | justhockey | 2.3k | not rated

Eddie is falling, falling, falling. His legs buckle underneath the weight of all this grief, and when he collapses to the floor the impact causes him to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. He grips the bat tighter still, even though the guilt of it is burning his palms now - even though the only thing in this room either of them need to be frightened of is him. i'm not a massive angst reader, but every now and then i browse for something in the angst and feels tag because i'm just in the mood for it, and this hit the spot perfectly the other day. so beautifully written <3

if we could be serious we wouldn't be us | BekkaChaos/@bekkachaos | 1.2k | GA

Buck gives Eddie baking lessons. Flour fight leads to laughter and kissing in Eddie’s kitchen. they get a little silly and soft and it's just so good!!

i'll be home for christmas | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 1.5k | GA

Christopher had messaged, two weeks ago, and said he didn’t want to spend Christmas in Texas. He’d said his grandmother doesn’t decorate the house right, that she won’t let him put popcorn garlands on the tree, that she’s trying to tell him snickerdoodles aren’t Christmas cookies. He’d said he wants to come home. Or— What he’d said was, can i come and spend christmas with you? the family feels are real <3 i love the hopefulness in this one!!

into it (you've got me tied up) | Snacks_4life | 7k | E

Eddie finds BDSM gear in Buck’s closet, leading to them discussing rope bondage. When Buck suggests they try it out together, Eddie can’t do anything other than agree, even if it’s supposed to be platonic. In the end though, it seems it’s not only Eddie who can’t keep his dirty thoughts to himself. buddie + bondage + getting together = one excellent excellent fic <3

like a dog with a bird at your door | fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuck | 51.2k | E

evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home. this is so beautifully written!! fantastic characterisation, gorgeous prose... truly all a girl (me) could want. i love the sequel as well!

my true love gave to me | scarmaddiewrites | 10.6k | T

Eddie’s plan to woo Buck at Christmas time. eddie spoiling buck around christmas time is just <3<3 so fluffy so good

rearview blues | clytemnestra/@clytemnestraaa | 16.5k | E

Eddie Diaz is not having a great time in El Paso. eddie might not be having a great time but i sure am <3 the torment nexus is real and i love it so much. beautiful fic!!

see the lights, and hang the stockings | wafflesofdoom/@capseycartwright | 2.6k | GA

Eddie finds out that Buck has never ever had a Christmas stocking of his own. He's very determined to change that and share a few Diaz family traditions. eddie going all in to make sure buck has a good christmas and feels included and loved and only good things my most beloved <3 exactly what i needed this holiday season!!

welcome back to the basement | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 18.4k | E

Buddie as The Basement Yard boys. the pet names!! i love their dynamic here, the dialogue feels so very them. it's just so so good!

[0scxmlqrd]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 hardest to love.

in which you realize how hard to love a person who doesn't even love themselves.

pairing: player 125 | min-su x f! reader

warning: angst

author's note: not a big fan of this dude, but decided to write one for him since i thought of a scenario for him first before the others.

ONE thing you've come into a realization after all these years you've been with him is that it's hard to love Park Min-su.

He's a coward.

You knew he had feelings for you— and so did you. That's why you kept waiting. Waiting for the coward Park Min-su to have the courage to confess for you—his one and only best friend.

That's the reason why you followed him to play this bloodbath game. Promising yourself that if he doesn't confess—you will.

Yet, he never did. Even until you take your last breath.

"Ha! You... you seriously chose them over me...?!"

You screamed whilst banging the door with all your strength, frightening the boy who's eyes remained glued on the floor, trembling. You ignored the pain coming from your hands, your full attention focused on the face of the boy behind the door keeping you away from each other.

You bit your lips enough in frustration that it drew blood in them. Tears flowing down your cheeks from the thoughts running through your head, making your knees go weak.

You began to break down.

This is it, your end.

You leaned your forehead on the door, sobbing.

You failed to see his hands twitches from the sound. It was as if he wanted to reach out to you, but he can't. He's a coward, remember?

You were too busy on your thought to notice anything else. Not entirely confused as to how come even after knowing you're going to die, you felt glad that he chose those two scumbags after you and survive the round, you were glad he's manage to survive up until now despite his cowardly actions.

You can hear the people around you screaming and as you started to hear the loud guns shooting down other players like you who didn't get to enter the doors on time. Soon, you'd end up just like them.

You cried, silently.

Then, you looked at him one last time, "Min-su, look at me, please..."

He didn't.

You cursed him silently to yourself before speaking once again to the person who couldn't spare you a single glance, "You coward, can't even face the person you betrayed, huh? F*ck! Don't worry, I won't hurt you or anything—it's not like I can. Just... look at me, please!"

Still, he refused.

You suppressed yourself from screaming at him, slightly banging you head on the door as you said, "I don't blame you for choosing them though, so don't blame yourself."

You paused for a second, contemplating before you sighed and continued, "I'm so glad you're okay. I care for you way too much, don't I? Honestly, I don't even care anymore, I do what I want to do."

"I never got to tell you, but... you're the reason why I joined this game."

Suddenly, his eyes met with yours.

You can see tears threatening to fall down on his cheeks. You wish you could reach out to them and wipe those tears off while you hug him—just like how you'd always do with him before everything.

"So, you knew, huh? Stop crying, idiot. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty—even though I know you are right now. But I have my own faults too, you know. I should've never allowed you to enter this game, now look how we ended up..."

You hear him whisper under his breath, "I'm sorry..."

Your breath hitched, more tears building up from your eyes, "Stop apologizing, idiot. You're making me want to cry more."

He took a step forward, catching you by surprise as he leaned his forehead on the door with his eyes clenched tightly as he began to fight himself from crying much more. Still, he remained silent.

You could see regret in those gentle eyes of his, one of the features he has that you love. You wished you had more time to admire them. But then you felt it, someone aiming their gun at you.

By then, you realized one thing. It's hard to love someone who doesn't even love themselves. It's hard to love Park Min-su. But still, you managed to do it.

And with the last energy you could muster to yourself, you whispered enough for him to hear, "I never got the right time to tell you I love you, didn't I?"

And when his eyes connected so closely to yours once again, a loud bang followed.

©0SCXMLQRD

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Jin "Jiji" Enjoji relationship headcanons

warnings: fem!reader, spoilers beyond the Cursed House arc, OOC, tooth-rotting fluff.

Special thanks to @miaurieee for beta-reading this draft before I posted it :3 I am caught up with the Dandadan manga series up to Volume 10, which somehow I was able to acquire over the Christmas break by nothing short of a miracle given to how my local bookstore keeps running out of stock 😅 So if you don’t want to be spoiled, it’s probably not a good idea to venture any further.

For those who have chosen to stay, I hope you’ll enjoy these headcanons~!

Although he is a flirty and weird-ass drama queen by nature, Jiji is the sweetest guy that a girl would love to have as a boyfriend. Not only is he charismatic, funny, easygoing, he is also loyal. Once he knows he has found that special someone, he is in it for the long haul. And he knows that it’s you because…well, he’s got great instincts! :3

He would definitely walk you to and from school.

Do you want a drink from the school cafeteria? No problem! Just give him a few and he’ll be right back~! He might seem a little flighty, but Jiji has a really good memory. Remember how he knew Momo preferred Pompy even when it’s been years since he’s seen her? Yeah, he’ll have your likes and dislikes memorized in no time.

Dates with Jiji would be spontaneous; ranging between cozy and quiet, like window-shopping around the city and then grab something at the coffee shop, adrenaline-pumping like playing against each other at the local arcade to see who can win the most tickets or going on all the rides at the amusement park, it’s honestly the luck of the draw. But please don’t feel obligated to do everything in one day just to make him happy, okay? If you’re feeling tired and want to go home or if you’re hungry, he’ll totally understand.

Communication and honesty are important foundations in your relationship, so bottling everything up inside is not a good idea and might cause Jiji to second-guess himself or think he’s doing something wrong.

Now, in regard to the whole Evil Eye scenario: he will insist that you stay away from the Ayase residence until the exorcism is completed. He has a mountain yokai inside of his body, and it was his own fault for inviting him inside. The last thing he wants is something to happen to you and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening. This would happen if you two started dating right after he transferred schools or continued dating until he left town for the city after his parents’ hospitalization.

Flash forward to Okarun making a deal with the Evil Eye and fighting the yokai on Tuesdays after school, with the cursed underwear being safely kept at Manjiro’s shrine. Once he knows that the Evil Eye will not break his promise, especially after accidentally transforming a few times at home, Jiji will feel a little more at ease being around you. Just don’t go around splashing anything cold on him, just in case. Room temperature is fine. His chi training is paying off, so in the unlikely event that it does happen, he can revert the transformation and go back to normal. He might be a little tired afterwards, though.

If you two weren’t already together prior to the Evil Eye situation, Jiji would definitely be falling head over heels for you as time passed. He would see you as someone who is amazing in their own way, even if you had some glaring flaws and were a bit of a weirdo too :3 Brownie points if the Evil Eye actually doesn’t call you a turd and is semi-well-behaved when he’s around you at school or in public.

Treat this eccentric dude right, and your relationship will definitely be one heck of a rollercoaster ride that will be full of firsts, maybe some scary things, but he’ll be by your side through it all.

Taglist: @bdudette @hoodiepandaninja16 @napbatata @karai-frost @kazudare @myduality @shidousprincess @sleep-all-day-everyday @taesy-miranda-lee @osarumi @satorousgf @cherie-soup @skwunkler @melodiblues @anonymity-222 @cumbersome-robes @zero-in-kyoto @h0undd0gzw0rld @decay-1 @justamegafan @minnie-1-3 @bumblebeebutter @theofficialfem @sadprimrose @bigbodycity @daniiixoxo @silentbreathss @skelletonscloset @mira-belcul18 @thatstrangesheep @thewindigo

[mythicmanuscripts]

all ive been able to think about lately is a dream i had the other night. sub aemond and casual nudity +/ naked cuddles. i just ge the feeling that its something that hed be into. maybe not at first but once hes comfortable and feels safe enough with you hed actually grow to really enjoy it. like when hes alone with you in your shared room and know no one will disturb you two he just locks the door and quickly wriggles out of his clothes and of course you join him too. like theres just something so relaxing and natural about it and he likes to share that with you

Brilliant thought anon, absolutely brilliant!!! After I just posted that ask about Aemond slowly getting comfortable, I think this sort of thing is the perfect continuation of what would happen once he reaches that comfort level.

While none of this is explicit, there's definitely implied sexual behaviour and since it's a lot about nakedness, to be safe I'm gonna put it under a cut. Enjoy!!

I think this starts as something that only happened after sex, mostly because Aemond prefers not to have sex very late at night? Sure, he'll do it happily if the mood arises, but in general he'd rather have sex earlier in the evening and spend the rest of the night in bed with you before going to sleep.

He grows to love the post sex hours? He's always heard most men just lay down immediately and fall asleep, but not him. There's a certain level of connection and comfortability with you that he only seems to get after sex? Once he's been that vulnerable, he finds that he's not shy about his body, not worried about having your eyes on him or trying to seem a certain way.

His favourite is when you two can get ready for bed together after sex, and absolutely no servants are called. He's more than capable of heating the water by the fire and pouring it into the bath, in fact he finds that he enjoys the task, even enjoys feeling your eyes on him from the bed while he does it. You bath together then, trade kisses and wash each other and then climb back into bed together, or sit on an armchair together, sometimes you curl up on the windowsill, sharing a blanket and watching the stars.

(The servants know better than to ask how come there's bath water to drain in the morning when no one was called to draw it the night before.)

As you get more comfortable and grow closer, Aemond one night admits how much he loves those hours. Maybe it's the night before one of you are set to leave for a few days, and he tells you how he thinks he'll miss that the most. You agree.

Doing it without sex takes a bit longer. The first night it happens that way is after Aemond gets into a fight with his mother. He comes storming into your shared chambers and all but chases out the poor servant trying to gather the laundry. You nearly tell him off for such rudeness, but then you get a proper look at him and you realise how stressed he seems.

You pull him into bed and ask what's wrong. Even though he's talking about it, he doesn't seem to be settling in the same way he normally would? He's still tense, flinching if you touch him without warning.

You decide to ask if he'd like to have a bath, because you can see that he's clearly upset and needs to calm. He shakes his head, not wanting to draw it or have a servant do it, and he most certainly won't let you do it.

You're stuck then, unsure of how to help him. You think of how calm he is those nights, of how comfortable.

And so, mostly on a whim, you get up from bed and remove your clothes. Poor Aemond has absolutely no idea what's going on and starts stuttering about how he's not in the mood. You tell him that you know that, but you'd like to be closer to him all the same.

He's confused, but he removes his clothes too and gets back into bed. He's stiff and tense for the ten seconds it takes you to shuffle closer and wrap an arm around him. From the moment you do that, he all but melts against you. You can actually feel how he sags, letting you take his weight, nuzzling his nose against your collarbone. You can feel the flutter of his lashes as he clothes his eyes.

He lays there for a while with you in silence, just breathing and focusing on the feel of your hand stroking his back and arm. When he does eventually start speaking, his voice as the same soft, almost slow quality that you usually only hear after sex. He tells you what happened then, listens to your counsel and then draws a bath for you both.

Even though you thought it might work, you're still shocked at just how well it worked, and especially at how comfortable yet non-sexual it was?

After that, it becomes commonplace. You start having to tell servants they may not enter your chambers without permission, even if they had been sent with a message for one of you, they must always knock and wait. Aemond absolutely adores how safe his shared chambers feel, how clear it is that the space belongs to you and aemond alone.

He so looks forward to it now, loves how warm and safe it feels.

Interestingly, he won't do it alone? Often you enter your chambers after him and find him reading or writing alone with his clothes on but then once he sees you he'll motion you over and gently push your clothes down your body. It's like he can't be comfortable naked when he's alone, but the moment you arrive he craves that vulnerability.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

the pain you bare for us

Lando sat at the edge of the bed, his hands trembling as they gripped his wife’s. The room was cold, the sterile smell of antiseptic stinging his nostrils, but all he could feel was the searing heat of his guilt. She was in pain, so much pain, and he couldn’t do anything to take it away. His heart raced, his pulse quickening with every desperate breath she took. Each gasp of hers felt like a sharp knife in his chest.

Her face twisted, the pain overwhelming her body, and Lando felt the terror in his gut deepening. His breath was ragged, his eyes wide, and the only thing he could focus on was her. Her, and the fragile, trembling life she was carrying—their life.

“Please, baby, you’re doing so well,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. His words, meant to comfort her, only seemed to falter in the face of her agony. He could see the sweat on her brow, her hands gripping his like a lifeline. Her nails dug into his skin, and he winced, but he didn’t let go. He couldn’t.

Another contraction hit, and she cried out, her body arcing up, her muscles straining. Lando’s eyes went wide with fear, his stomach tightening in a knot of dread. She gasped again, the sound of her pain tearing at him in ways he couldn’t explain. He didn’t know how to help her. Didn’t know how to make it stop.

And the worst part? This was his fault.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, though he knew she couldn’t hear him. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this.”

The guilt gnawed at him like an animal tearing at his insides. He’d wanted this. He’d begged for it. He wanted to be a father, to have a family—someone to share his life with. But now, as he watched the woman he loved more than anything in the world fight for her breath, fight to bring their child into this world, the reality of what he had asked of her hit him like a freight train.

He’d never imagined it would be like this.

Never imagined how raw and painful it would be for her, how deeply he would feel it, too. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a new beginning, but instead, all he felt was terror. What if something happens to her?

A flash of memories flooded his mind—memories of the documentary he’d watched not long before they’d even conceived. It was about childbirth, about the risks women faced every single day to bring new life into the world. His heart had clenched in horror as he watched the faces of mothers who didn’t make it, who didn’t survive the pain, the complications, the unpredictability of the process.

He had read about it too—the statistics. The women who died in childbirth because something went wrong. He couldn’t shake the images, the stories of mothers slipping away, leaving behind children, leaving behind husbands who never thought it would happen to them. And now, as he sat in this hospital room, his wife’s face twisted in agony, he could hear those voices echoing in his head.

What if I lose her? What if I lose them both?

His heart squeezed painfully. He couldn’t bear the thought of it. The thought of her never waking up from this, never holding their child, never laughing at their stupid jokes or dancing around their living room with him. The thought of coming home to an empty house, to a life without her—he couldn’t stand it.

“Lan…” Her voice broke through his thoughts, and he snapped back to the present.

Her eyes, filled with pain and fear, met his. She squeezed his hand so tightly, it almost hurt, but he didn’t mind.

“I can’t… I can’t do this…” she gasped between breaths, her face pale, her chest rising and falling erratically. “Lando, I can’t…”

“Shh… baby, you can. You are doing it. You’re so strong. You’re incredible,” he whispered, kissing her forehead, but even he could hear the desperation in his own voice.

His words sounded hollow, as if he were trying to convince both of them.

But he couldn’t help it. He was so scared.

Another contraction hit, and his wife cried out louder this time, her whole body wracked with the intensity of it. Lando leaned over, pressing his forehead to hers, and all he could do was whisper over and over.

“I love you. Please, I love you. Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”

She gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, her breath ragged and shallow, as if trying to hold on to him in the chaos of it all. The room seemed to spin around him, the beeping of the monitors sounding like they were coming from far away.

“Please… don’t leave me,” Lando whispered, his voice cracking, his tears now falling freely down his cheeks. He kissed her hand again, his heart pounding in his chest, the terror gripping him so tightly he could hardly breathe. “Please, don’t leave me…”

The words felt wrong, too heavy. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life.

Her eyes softened through the veil of pain, but the exhaustion was evident on her face. “I won’t… I won’t leave you…” she managed to say through gritted teeth.

But Lando wasn’t sure he could bear it. He wasn’t sure he could stand watching her suffer like this. It felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest. His mind raced back to all those women, the stories of those who didn’t survive. And in that moment, he knew one thing for certain.

He never, ever wanted to put her through this again.

No more children. This is enough.

“Lando… I can’t…” Her voice trembled, and tears welled in her eyes. “Please… don’t let me go through this again…”

The fear in her voice shattered him completely. She was so terrified. So exhausted. And he realized, she’s scared to die for me, for us. The weight of it crashed into him like a tidal wave.

Lando’s hand immediately cupped her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek. His eyes were full of raw emotion—terror, love, and desperation.

“No, no more,” he said, his voice fierce, urgent. “I swear to you, after this, we are done. No more babies. I can’t watch you go through this again. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Her tear-filled eyes locked onto his, and he could see the fear there—the fear that she might never come out of this alive. She didn’t say anything, but Lando could feel the weight of her silent agreement.

“But you are my baby,” he continued, his voice dropping, becoming more serious, more raw, as he leaned in closer to her. “I’ll always worry. I’ll always care about you. Always.”

Her breath hitched at the depth of his words, and she nodded weakly, her lips trembling as she tried to offer him a weak smile. “I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. “I’m not going to leave you.”

And as if the universe, in some small gesture of mercy, decided to give them a chance to breathe, the sound of their child’s first cry broke through the tension in the room. A sharp, fragile cry filled the space, followed by a soft, almost imperceptible whimper as the nurse placed the baby in Lando’s hands.

Lando stared down at their son, his chest heavy with fear and overwhelming love. He wasn’t sure if he could still feel his heartbeat, but in that moment, everything seemed to slow down. His son—their son—was alive.

He carefully handed the baby to her, his wife’s shaking hands taking their child, cradling him to her chest. She let out a soft sob of relief, and Lando couldn’t stop the tears that were flowing freely now. He watched her hold their son, the woman who had just gone through hell to bring this child into the world.

“I love you,” Lando whispered, his voice raw and thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her eyes red from exhaustion, but the tenderness in her gaze was unwavering. “I couldn’t do this without you…”

Lando kissed her forehead softly, his hand gently brushing against their newborn son’s tiny head. But deep inside, he knew this was the end for them. No more pain, no more risks, no more fear of losing each other. Their family was whole now. He would protect them, no matter what it took.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he promised, his voice steady as he gazed at both of them. His arms, filled with love, would never let them go.

But deep in his heart, he repeated a silent vow.

No more children. No more pain.

[justabeewithapen]

i bet Chiquitita grew up not being able to do any general roughhousing because of his condition </3 but now the kids are helping him get caught up with important childhood milestones such as: climbing and falling out of trees, hitting each other with sticks, running with sharp objects, mudball fights, and other common child deathgames! poor Mr Shrimp is having a rough time adjusting

(And some close ups)

I have so many thoughts on this ask, I am so sorry XD

Firstly, Mr. Shrimp is 1000% having a rough time adjusting, and for very good reason. While we don't know what Chiquitita has (and I tried to do some research to get a rough idea of this sort of thing in humans) we for sure know he has to be anemic to some degree--or whatever their species's version of that would be. Before they had a consistent source of blood transfusions I am sure that Chiquitita was practically bed ridden at times, frequent blood loss makes it hard to do anything without getting woozy and sick. Now that they have that source he can do a lot more, but he still has limits that are way under where a kid his age actually should be. If it wasn't for his work ethic and Chiquitita's insistence he was okay, Mr. Shrimp would be walking Chiki to school almost every day. The idea that his son can just, do things now, hasn't really clicked. Chiki (who is roughly 6-7-ish seeing as he is a first grader) is actually fairly aware of his own limits, but, with the encouragement of both other kids (<- link to a bonus chapter) and his babysitters, he has been trying to push them. We know from one of extras staring Chiquitita (<- read this bonus chapter first) that he probably doesn't have much interest in play fighting, but I feel like he would be very into athletics. Still, no matter how well he thinks he knows his limits he has 100% had to be picked up from school or brought home after getting faint. Those are the moments where Mr. Shrimp probably gets a bit too smothery, he is the biggest cry baby but I can't even blame him. This is where I dive headfirst into total headcanon territory, but I know this man has some intense insecurities about his ability to raise his son and finding the balance there is so hard. He has the space and time to think about this sorts of things instead of trying to survive day-by-day and I know it is eating him alive. He very openly blames himself for the death of his wife when he explains his backstory. He calls himself an alien word that very clearly is meant to be something like "Weakling" or "pathetic" and you can just feel the hate oozing off the page. He has issues. How long was he fighting every day just to see the next and make sure his family could too, like, this is the stuff I am talking about when I say he has PTSD. He was 100% willing to beat a teenager unconscious for the sake of a paycheck. (I know his singing is def just because he is kind of a silly guy, but imagine if he was doing it to distract himself from his horrible job. Singing about his son to remind him why he was there, do you see the vision????) I am constantly thinking about how his and Acrosilkie's stories are so similar, only, he came out of it with a good ending. Even when his life was safe and his son was safe he felt so indebted to the gang that he was willing to die in the Space Globalist Arc for a battle that wasn't even any of his business!! His life is the only thing he feels he can offer that is of any value man.... Anyway!! Do we think that Mr. Shrimp and Chiki bleed red when they are in their human disguises, or white still? I am leaning towards white but idk how I want to handle their shapeshifting fully. Also, hopefully I articulated my thoughts here okay T-T My brain is too full of them. (ASKS STILL VERY MUCH OPEN!!)