#I say it because I mean it though I know it’s not helpful

[grimdarling69]

Another deaged Ellie and Dan, but Danny was reincarnated as Damian Wayne

Danny Damian because he was Damian now, wasn't he? He remembers now the Fentons, the GIW, Sam and Tucker, jazz. He wonders if they could have also followed him here. A part of him longs to see his fraid again, but are they his fraid still? He was a new person. Son of The Bat and Heir to the Demon Head. Something Dami he remembers reminding people of. If only Sam could see him now, he knows she'd love that. "Who's edgy now?" He can picture her saying. He can almost see Tucker laughing so hard he'd fall out of his seat.

Crack

The sharp sound of the thunder brings him to the present. He looked over at his clock, 3:00 A.M. The witching hour he can hear Ellie tell him with a mischievous smile on one of their flights around Amity Park. She loved to drag him and Dan sometimes Vlad if he was feeling friendly. Dan, his future evil self tormented by the deaths of all his family and friends, so hurt he got Vlad to rip his human half out so he didn't have to feel the pain. Ellie, his clone, created by Vlad to be the perfect son, too bad she was a daughter. Looking down at his stomach where their cores are now incubating, he couldn't help but wonder if Vlad had anything to do with this.

He shook his head as if that would rid himself of that thought. Vlad was a real fruitloop,but he would never purposefully endanger Dan or Ellie. Vlad, in his twisted and weird ways, did love them in his own ways like kidnapping and keeping him hostage to save Ellie. He had forgiven vlad for the desperate attempt to save his daughter, but incubating Ellie and Dan's cores would make him their father now, too. Ew, coparenting with Vlad does not sound like a fun time. He glanced down and lifted his shirt hesitantly. If he focused on his stomach, he could see a faint blue and red glow emanating from his stomach. Red, Vlads' color, he thought distantly. Hopefully, it didn't mean much. As if signaling him, the envelope they had carried with them to him fell off the bed carried to the floor by the slight breeze.

Lighting lumineating the bedroom, making the crisp white color shine for just a second. He tentatively reached down to grab it. He was being a baby. He was a trained assassin from birth, and his fear trained beaten out of him a long time ago. Some part of him whispered his father and Richard's teachings of being brave but not without fear.

He paused. Father would want to know everything. His past life, Ellie and Dan, the ghosts, being a halfa. He wouldn't understand, Richard would try to, but not even he could never really understand. He couldn't subject his babies to that. He couldn't live with the threat to being ripped apart molecule by molecule. His father's lack of emotional intelligence certainly would not help young halfas. He was fourteen again the age he was killed in his first life. The age he started facing ghosts from another dimension.

He started younger in this life. Killing younger, he learned to fight his whole life. Jazz would hate that. Jazz... he wondered if she was alright if she survived the attack... no, there's no time to think of that right now. He ripped open the envelope( like a band-aid, Richard would remind him), and he noticed Vlad's familiar fancy fruitloop writing immediately(he had fancy fruitloop writing now, instead of the chicken scratch Jazz chided him over). So he was right about one thing this had vlad all over it.

Dear Daniel,

Though I understand you might not be Daniel when this letter finds you. I have been reincarnated into another life as I believe you have as well. My new name is Alexander Luther. I own a corporation called Lexcorp. I unfortunately can not change the name according to my board. The idiot lot of them.

He snickered at that. His smile dropped immediately. Vlad was Lex Luthor, the archnemesis of Superman. Jon would most certainly not like this. He forced himself to read on before he spiraled further.

I regained my memories after an experiment went wrong. I know how original. My new incarnation was able to open a small portal that grew in size, and eventually, somehow Danielle and Dan fell through. The portal then exploded, and I regained my memories. Unfortunately, it destabilized their clone bodies. I couldn't grow working bodies in time, and eventually, I had to hope they could find you. I hoped somehow that the yeti doctor would have imparted some of his strange knowledge onto you that might save them.

Vlad, no Lex still wrong. Vlad was somewhat right about that. During one of his all things ghostly lessons from Frostbite, he told him of how in the old ages ghosts often incubated their ghostlings. A protective measure back when magic and spirits were more prevalent. He didn't really understand it back then, and he doesn't understand it much now, either. Apart from the fact he was doing it, he supposed. What if he did something wrong and he lost them? He doesn't think he could live out his half-life if he lost them again. He needed to get to Vlad, and quickly too so they could start building a new portal to the infinite realms.

If this letter finds you. Come find me immediately at these coordinates. I've gone deep underground to escape my new archnimesis's suoer senses. I've m started research on a new portal, but I'll need your endeneering skills. This world is severely lacking in ectoplasmic science and engineering. I am once again forced to start from scratch on my own. Once we get the portal open, you'll need to go straight to The Far Frozen.

It's as if he's reading my mind, I think jokingly.

P.s. One of my experiments may or not have regiven then my new DNA in an attempt to restabilize them.

Only Vlad.

Well, it looks like they actually were going to be coparenting after all. This was going to go great.

I sigh and lean my head back down on my pillow. He committed the cords to memory before lighting the letter on fire with the lighter he kept in his bedside drawer. Point to assassin training. Jason would be proud. He supposed he could stay for a month or so before leaving, which would give him enough time to get away or think of some kind of mission to give himself. He shoots up. Todd had died and came back. He was a revenant. He couldn't stick around if he were to visit he'd know something was wrong immediately even if he didn't understand it.

He sprung out of bed quickly, but quietly, his foot steps perfectly silent despite his rushed mood of packing a bag. He packed a few pairs of clothes and lots of hidden weapons, some snacks he kept hidden for that should keep him fed on his journey but leaving any sentimental things behind. He glanced longingly at his sketch pad, but Vlad was most likely under the water judging by the coordinates he was given. Who knows if it would survive.

He checked the pack, making sure he got all he needed. He promptly checked it again. Twice. After deeming it sufficient, he willed himself to open the door. He mentally cataloged everyone in the manor. Pennyworth was most likely still in Father's room, making sure he actually listened to his insructions. Richard and Todd in Bludhaven and Crime Alley, respectfully. Cain and Brown in Hong Kong. Thomas was sleeping after his dayshift.

Everyone accounted for except Drake. He was most likely using Pennyworth's attention on Father to work cases. He just had to take the risk. For his ghostlings, for himself, Vlad. He crept down the hallways. He was opening the grandfather clock in record time. He went slower this time. He would use his powers, but his father had supernatural wards of all kinds in the cave. Who knows what they did. He was also admittedly trying to save his little energy for his voyage on the open sea. Light snoring hit his ears as he peered around the corner.

Thank ancients.

Drake was sleeping at the batcomputer, still in his Red Robin suit sans mask surrounded by his poor choices. Empty coffee cups and files spread around. He would still need to be quiet, Drake was a light sleeper, as was everyone else in his family. He grabbed the keys to his bike quickly, sneaking by. If he wasn't ditching his bike at Gotham Bridge, he would have disabled his trackers. He checked the gas and made sure he could make it. That's when he made his first mistake.

Putting the gas jug back down, he accidently hit another of one of his siblings' tools to the floor. He tried catching it without success, but it fell anyway, the loud clang echoing. Mistake number two.

Shit.

"Huh? What's happening?" Drake arose sleepily rubbing his eyes.

He froze. Mistake number three.

"Damian? What are you doing down here?" His eyes landed on him, and he spoke confusedly with his voice heavy with sleep or lack thereof.

He panics. He's blaming the pregnancy hormones on this.

He runs.

"Damian!" Drake responded to his dead sprint with his own. "Stop!"

He reaches his bike, and he turns the keys and prays. Luckily, it comes to life. He fumbles with his helmet it would hide his tears he needed it. who knows if he'll ever get to see them again. He shoots off down the tunnel. Flicking the cave door open remotely.

Another bike rears to life behind him. "Damian wants going on?" Drakes voice echoes in his ears. He can almost taste the concern in it amplified by the helmet. He ignores it and accelerates. He ignores the returned acceleration behind him.

----------------

Tim has no clue what made Damian panic enough to run away. He quickly ran to his own bike while swearing. Damian is already gaining distance on him. After another attempt at getting Damian to calm down and talk, he calls the only person Damian would actually listen to.

He hopes Dick will forgive him for waking him at five o'clock in the morning on his day off.

[spideyhexx]

oct. 2nd - bro code

Brother'sBestFriend!Rafe Cameron x Reader

mdni! wc; 1.2k cw; thighfucking, cnc ish

kinktober2024 masterlist

a/n; a last minute change to kinktober because drew starkey™️

“Babydoll, I’m not even putin’ it in, it’s not a big deal,” Rafe murmurs to your ear, his lips ghosting the shell of it as his arm wraps tighter to your waist, your hips pressing into the hard counter of the outside bar. 

“He won’t find out?”

Rafe scoffs a little, his arm tightening on you. “No, no, no, no, he won’t. Cause you won’t tell him, huh?”

You shake your head no and his hand juts up to your chin, turning your head back to him, “C’mon, words, baby, I told you I need words to keep going.” His words, however, hold no meaning. He gives the cockiest little smirk when he says it. 

It’s hard to get them out when his warm hand is holding you, and his erection presses firmly to your backside, begging for something more. Rafe was your older brother’s best friend and it would have taken a literal miracle for you not to develop a crush on him. 

Rafe’s been eyeing you lately though. Longer glances when you strip off your towel, showing off your new swimsuit. Lingering touches when he hugs you in greetings, slipping a hand to the top of your ass. Enough for you to notice, but no one else. 

A few of your friends already warned you that Rafe gave off certain vibes, which you steer clear of immediately when attributed to a guy, but he was a magnet. And he’s holding you so tightly. 

Your front is against the bar counter on your patio, his body pressed up behind you so close, you feel all of him, every inch of him. 

“Rafe maybe we shouldn’t like-”

“Shhhh,” he interrupts, leaning back to watch the curve of your ass as he rubs his hardened dick against you. All that covers you is a thin pair of blue swimsuit bottoms, his swimming trunks do nothing to contain how aroused he is. 

“Here, how ‘bout this,” he mumbles, tugging the trunks down enough to let his cock spring free, and the quick glimpse you get of it makes you gasp. 

Rafe relishes in that. But his hand finds your jaw again, “I won’t even put it in, ‘kay? Won’t even do it, babydoll, it won’t slip it in. It’s just a little help and it means nothing cause it’s not in.”

You want to tell him his words don’t make sense, but you feel his free hand nudge your legs apart and oblige, holding one hand on the counter, your other hand on his wrist. 

“He could come home,” you whisper, not meaning to be that quiet, but Rafe’s fingers tighten on your jaw. 

“Don’t fucking say that, we got time.” Rafe holds to his cock, smearing the beads of pre-cum dripping from him on your inner thigh. It coaxes another gasp out of you and he chuckles. 

“Yeah, see? I told you, it’s nice, yeah. But it’s nothing, doll. Nothing. I’m not doing anything crazy and your brother won’t know, ‘kay?”

Rafe waits for you to nod. Your hesitation causes him to press tighter to you, the counter’s edge digging into your skin enough to be uncomfortable, enough to probably leave a mark. You nod. 

His hot breath at your ear and neck and feeling how hard he is makes your head spin and the area between your legs alight. This is wrong, you know it’s bad on multiple levels. You shouldn’t want him. Shouldn’t let him do this, but you can’t find it in yourself to push him away. Instead, you slip your bottoms to the side and Rafe mutters out a, “fuck yes,” that makes more heat spark within you. 

Rafe slides his cock between your thighs, resting right under your heat. You swallow hard, gripping the counter. He nudges your legs to his heart’s content, getting them in the right position so there’s enough pressure against him, and then he grabs your hips tight. You move your jaw, stretching it out after his hard grip, reaching a hand behind you so you can hold onto some part of him. 

But as your fingertips grace his wrist, he swats your hand away, “Just look forward, doll, I got it.”

You can’t respond, because Rafe immediately starts to thrust himself between your thighs, not bothering to go slow. 

He groans and lets out a dark laugh against your ear, his teeth nibbling at your skin. “Think about this every time you walk around in one of these,” he mutters, rocking his hips, the steady rhythmic thrusts teasing you whenever his tip rubs against your cunt. “Every time you walk around in general.”

You wonder if he wants you to ask him to put it in. To push his cock into you and fuck you right here near the pool, but even if he wants you to do that, he doesn’t mention it. So you don’t either. 

The slow torture of his cock rubbing between your thighs, using them for his pleasure, has your breath heavy and your knees shaky. 

Rafe grunts, gripping your waist so hard it rivals the push of the counter against you. “This is normal yeah?” His voice comes out breathy, near wavering. 

“What?” You ask, confused by the questioning. 

“This is normal. Tell me doll, please,” Rafe almost whines at you. It has your brow knitting and your head turning to see him but he shakes his head vehemently, removing a hand from your hip to force your head forward. 

“Doll, c’mon, this is normal, yeah? Just…just feeling good with you, that’s all. Doesn’t…doesn’t fucking matter,” he gets out through pants and broken-up breaths. “I’m not even…my dick isn’t even…”

“Uh…,” you trail off. Unsure. 

“Doll,” he says, a sharp edge to his tone, like he might break if you don’t answer him. 

You rush your words out, “Yeah, yeah, it’s normal.” 

Rafe lets out a breath you could only classify as a relief. He thrusts his hips a little faster, the squeeze of your thighs warm and soft against him, the perfect amount to stimulate him. You’re sure he can feel how wet you are, the quick drag of his cock right under your cunt has you wanting to reach down and rub at your clit to give you some sort of satisfaction. But you can’t bring yourself to, your mind too focused on his sounds, on his movements. On his insistence that this is normal. He thrusts over and over until he muffles a groan against your shoulder, spilling himself on your thighs, on your cunt, on the counter in front of you. 

It’s a lot. A big mess that you don’t know what to do with. Your breath feels shakier than it was just a few seconds ago. Rafe steps back, tugging his trunks up. He reaches over for your beach towel that is laid on the lounge chair and chucks it over at you. 

You turn just in time to catch it, but you stay still, holding it and looking at him. He’s out of breath, flushed in the face, his eyes wild. 

“What? Clean the fuck up,” he mutters, gesturing with his hand and adjusting his trunks as he walks past you towards the screen door. 

With a swallow, you wipe your thighs clean, the heat in your stomach still lingering. 

“He won’t find out,” Rafe’s voice rings out, and you look up at him, only to nod, looking to where his cum hit the counter. You wipe it clean, then catch his eye again. 

Rafe stares for a few seconds, and you watch his frenzied expression dip into neutral territory, then the turns on his heel into your house.

[harrysfolklore]

i told you id request to keep it alive, so like honouary wag fluffy blurb with first race back where she’s an official wag? and the girls are so excited and charles is excited to be able to say that she’s his 😇

MORE HONORARY WAG BABIES !!! this is our girl as an official wag 🥺 READ THE HONORARY WAG HERE

The summer break had flown by, and as you stepped onto the familiar grounds of the paddock, the buzz of the post-summer atmosphere hit you immediately.

But this time, something was different. No longer were you just the 'honorary WAG' tagging along with your friends, half-hidden in the shadows. This time, you were walking hand-in-hand with Charles, officially his girlfriend, and it felt as though all eyes were on you.

You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you both passed the Ferrari hospitality area, the usual sea of red and white surrounding you. Charles smiled down at you, his green eyes warm and comforting, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "You okay?" he asked softly, clearly sensing the slight nervousness in your body language.

You nodded, smiling. "Yeah, just feels a bit different now."

"Don’t worry. You’ve always belonged here," Charles chuckled softly, "Now it’s just… official."

You smiled at Charles' words, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. As you approached the area where you were meant to meet the girls, you turned to face him.

"I should go meet the others at the Paddock Club," you said, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

Charles's lips curved into a playful smirk. "Ah, abandoning me already for your glamorous WAG duties?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. "Oh, please. As if you won't be busy with team meetings and interviews all day."

"True," he conceded, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But I'd much rather be busy with you."

A blush crept up your cheeks as you gave him a gentle push. "Behave, Leclerc. We're in public."

Charles laughed, pulling you close for a quick kiss. "See you later, mon coeur," he murmured against your lips before reluctantly letting you go.

With a final wave, you made your way to the Paddock Club, spotting your friends gathered near one of the tables. As you approached, you could see the grins spreading across their faces.

"Well, well, well," Rebecca called out teasingly as you joined them. "If it isn't the newest official member of our little club!"

Kika giggled, linking her arm through yours. "Welcome to the dark side, darling."

"Oh, stop it," you laughed, feeling both embarrassed and oddly proud.

"You were always one of us, it's just official now," Carmen said, winking at you.

You loved these girls so much.

"But seriously," Lily said, "how does it feel to be the official Ferrari WAG now?"

"I mean," Kika added with a grin, "it’s kind of a big deal."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at their teasing. "It feels good. Weirdly normal though. I guess because I’ve been around so much already."

"Well, we have two reasons to celebrate today. Not only do we have YN officially joining our ranks, but it's also Kika's first race as Mrs. Gasly!" Rebecca said as she called out a waiter to order some champagne.

Kika beamed, her new wedding ring glinting in the light. "I still can't believe it sometimes," she admitted, a dreamy look in her eyes.

As the champagne arrived and Rebecca began pouring glasses for everyone, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging. Sure, things were different now, but as you clinked glasses with your friends and laughter filled the air, you realized that everything felt right.

As the race day activities continued, you found yourself moving between the paddock, the garage, and the hospitality areas. Charles had commitments, but every so often, he’d glance over at you, his eyes softening as he caught your gaze. There was a quiet comfort between you two now, knowing you didn’t have to hide anything anymore.

At one point, during a brief break between work, Charles pulled you into a quiet corner of the garage. He leaned against the wall, tugging you closer by the waist until you were standing between his legs, his arms wrapped around you protectively.

"You doing okay?" he asked, his voice low and affectionate as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You nodded, resting your hands on his chest. "I’m fine. Just… still getting used to all this. But I’m happy to be here with you."

Charles smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I’m happy you’re here too." His expression softened as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "You make everything better, you know that?"

You smiled against his lips, feeling your heart swell at his words. "You’re not so bad yourself, Leclerc."

Before either of you could say anything more, you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. "Am I interrupting?"

You turned to see Joris standing there with an amused grin on his face. "Come on, Charles. Time to get back to work. You’ve got a race to win."

Charles sighed dramatically but gave you one last kiss before stepping back. "I’ll see you after the race?"

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I’ll be cheering you on."

As Charles disappeared with Joris, you rejoined the girls, who immediately started up their teasing again.

"Did you guys have a moment?" Kika asked with a smirk.

"Oh, they definitely had a moment," Lily added, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Can’t a girl spend a few quiet minutes with her boyfriend without you lot jumping in?" you rolled your eyes playfully.

"Oh, come on," Rebecca chimed in, her eyes sparkling. "We're just happy for you two. It's about time, honestly. "

"How could I forget? You literally bet on us," you teased with no real malice in your voice..

"Hey, it worked out, didn't it?" Carmen said with a wink. "And now you're no longer our honorary WAG. You're the real deal."

[noosayog]

gravitate ft. miya atsumu

wc: 2.2k part 2 of 2

part 1

contents/warnings: fwb dynamic, a lil bit of jealousyyy <3, angst to fluff, suggestive but sfw, she/her! reader, referred to as girlfriend, wife, reader has minor social anxiety

Atsumu thinks he did the right thing. 

It’s the truth after all, that even if he got a committed partner now, he wouldn’t be able to give them the time and attention they deserve. 

It’s the responsible thing to do. 

Never mind the fact that he’s fallen absolutely head over heels for you. It’s okay, though, because you had always seemed so on board with casual. At the end of the day, he’d only be hurting himself by getting more involved with you; you were the better one at drawing boundaries and saying goodbye.

Yet, after that night, he’s never been more grateful for a lull in the season, a brief break before the games begin again. He could dedicate time to practicing and conditioning and more importantly, no games meant no afterparties for him to give himself the wrong idea.

The idea that you might also have feelings for him. 

It’s wishful thinking right? He’s reading into the fact that you asked if he could wear his jersey right? Logically, he couldn’t stop you from wearing it, so why did you ask? Some roundabout way of asking if that would give all your friends the wrong idea? Of course it would. They would never miss out on a chance to clown him. 

All to say, the break in the season gives him some time away from you.

It’s all completely ironic though because all it does is gives him nothing but more time to think about you. The longer his runs are, the more time his brain has to drift to thoughts of you. At the gym, every rest interval between sets is spent remembering your smell, taste, sounds. And rest days, rest days were the worst. 

The time passes excruciatingly slowly and quickly at the same time until the season picks up and your unsaid meeting time comes around again. 

– 

A part of him had expected that you might not show up to the after-game party after what had gone down between the two of you. 

That’s if you even see what happened as note-worthy. 

So when you show up, laughing it up and enjoying yourself like nothing happened, he’s convinced that he did indeed make the right decision. This is and always has been casual to you, like what was agreed upon. It’s like a stab in the chest, but a foolish part of him thinks that means maybe the two of you will casually be drawn together at some point tonight and he’d be able to take you home and get the small piece of you he sees as his. 

But, damn, he had missed you. He can’t help the way his eyes drift to you every 5 minutes to see when he’ll finally be able to catch you alone. 

Typically, it wouldn’t take long, since he knows you tend to run low on social battery within a couple minutes of mingling. But tonight, you’re like a different person, talking and drinking all night. Every time he looks over at you, you’re a part of some circle of friends laughing like you’ve been friends forever. 

As the night drags on, Atsumu gets antsy, glancing over every other minute. He finally catches you when you break away from your group. 

“Hey,” he says, hoping he sounds significantly less – just less – than how he actually feels. “I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you all night, miss Popular.” 

You raise a brow at him. 

“I haven’t seen you talk to this many people ever,” he jokes. 

You give him a weak smile at that. “So you think catching me during my one and only break is gonna win you any favors?” 

He relaxes a bit at the quip. “My company should count as a break.” 

You laugh and he grins back. At long last, the sound he’d been wanting to hear all night. Not aimed at some stranger, not the forced robotic sounds he knows you offer out of politeness. He’s about to throw his arm around you and lead you to someplace quiet when you seem to catch the eye of someone you know. You wave them over and he suppresses a groan. 

How many more minutes until he can have you to himself? 

A girl he dimly recognizes from some other gatherings wanders over to the two of you and Atsumu’s eyes narrow a fraction when you take half a step back to let her get closer to him. 

“Atsumu, this is Yukie. Yuki, this is Atsumu.” 

“Hi! Nice to meet you!” She comes in for a hug and almost instinctively, Atsumu shifts his body to turn it into a side hug. He pats once at her shoulder before pulling away but she keeps her hold around his side for one second too long to be friendly. 

“Well then,” he hears you say. His gaze whips to you, like knows what you’re about to do and can’t believe you’re doing it. “I’ll leave you kids to talk alone. I need to take a bathroom break. Don’t have too much fun!” 

Don’t have too much fun? He mocks you in his mind. Could you make it any more obvious? 

Atsumu pries the hand from his side off, intent on chasing you but Yukie steps in his path, starting to chat up a storm, leaving Atsumu frustrated but trying not to be rude. Something akin to rage starts to fill up in his gut, clouding his brain with impatience to end this conversation already and find you to figure out the what fuck your intentions are here.

He finally got one moment, just one moment alone with you after weeks of nothing and you just pass it off to someone else like you don’t give a damn. 

It takes several reassurances that he’d be seeing her again at other mutual friends’ gatherings to break away, and he immediately weaves through the crowd to find you. Fuck subtlety and whatever cat-and-mouse bullshit the two of you used to play.

He half expects you to have gone home; he could feel the social exhaustion oozing out of you in waves even in the couple of minutes he did manage to get with you. So imagine Atsumu’s surprise when he does indeed find you still present, chatting up Tobio-kun of all people. Sure, being high school friends with Shoyo-kun means you had the same relationship with Tobio, but why the fuck do you have a hand on his shoulder, doubling over with laughter as if listening to Tobio’s jokes made your whole night of small talk worth it. 

The red hot feeling bubbles over, and before he knows what he’s doing, he stomps over to rip your arm off Tobio’s shoulder. 

“What? You just pawn me off to some other girl so you can go off and find someone else for tonight?” 

Tobio, bless his heart, with all his social ineptitude picks up the cues and makes himself scarce. 

You shake Atsumu’s searing grip from your wrist and put some space between you two, but he’s not having it. He steps even closer, backing you up until you hit the wall. Suddenly, the hallway seems too empty, too quiet. Atsumu doesn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears anyway. 

You only look at him for a moment before closing your eyes and turning away. “What are you talking about, Atsumu? It's not that seri-” 

“It is and you fuckin’ know it.” 

“Atsumu, I don’t think this is the place to talk about this– ” 

“So come over to mine. Let’s talk.” 

“Atsumu…” 

“Please,” he’s damn near begging, one degree from being on his knees.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

He grabs your chin and forces you to look right into his eyes. “And why not? I think we both know something happened tonight that we need to talk about.” 

“Tonight?” you echo. You slap his hands away and shove at his chest, forcing him half a step back. “Something happened last time too and you didn’t seem to wanna talk about it then. Well, now it’s my turn to tell you. Nothing happened tonight, so there’s nothing to talk about.” 

His chest aches, so much so that he can’t get any words out as he processes what you’ve just said. So he didn’t do the right thing after all. 

The aching intensifies hearing you refer to whatever went down tonight between you two as “nothing.” 

He takes a deep, heavy inhale before eking out, “don’t say that, baby. I’m sorry. Can we please talk about this?” 

“I don’t want to. In fact, Atsumu, I don’t think we should-” see each other anymore. 

“No,” he cuts you off. “Whatever it is you’re about to say, my answer is no and that’s final.” 

“And what I want doesn’t matter?”

“It does! But I won't allow you to make that decision for us until we talk properly.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“Just-” 

What should he say? What can he say? He’s running out of words to convince you and you’re not budging. It’s pure panic that arises in his throat when he watches you desperately try to pry his fingers off your wrist. 

He grips tighter. He has a feeling that if he gives up now, it would be that easy for you to venture beyond his reach. You’d never come to another one of these gatherings. Maybe he’d get a glimpse of you at a game against Tobio, you wearing an Adlers jersey with a #20 printed in the back and fuck- 

That’s such a terrible image, he almost feels like physically doubling over to soothe the stabbing jealousy in his chest. 

“I love you,” he utters out. 

“What?” 

His forehead comes down to rest on yours, pouring out his entire being into those three words again. “I love you.” 

“Atsumu! That is not casual!” you whisper urgently. 

He can’t help but laugh. It’s a mixture of relief that the confession has finally freed itself from the confines of his ribcage and at your alarmed but adorably frank comment. 

“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.” 

“So then… why did you… that night…” 

“That night, I was an idiot that didn’t realize how much I felt for you. I took for granted that I’d always be able to see you again like this and have you like I always have. But I don’t wanna live on hope or ‘next time’ anymore. I wanna know that I can and when I will see you again.” 

Foreheads still pressed against another, he leaves you with nowhere to run. You close your eyes. He does too. 

“So will you please come home with me so we can figure this out together?” 

Much like that very first night at the bar, you waver between going back out to the party or staying with him. He sees the indecision in your eyes and for those few moments, he walks on a tightrope and you hold the scissors. 

“Okay,” you whisper, so quiet it barely makes a sound. 

–

“Missed you so damn much.” 

“Atsumu, wait-” 

It’s immediate when his door swings open. Suddenly, you’re pressed against the wall and the door slams shut. Atsumu pushes closer one leg forcefully opening yours up and picking you up by the thighs. With nowhere to run, you wrap your legs around his waist and open up for Atumu to deepen the kiss. 

“Thought we were gonna talk,” he hears you say between breaths. 

“Later,” he rasps, kissing you harder and starting to rock his hips against you. “Missed you so fuckin’ much.” 

“Me too,” you admit quietly and that’s all you get to say before you succumb to his desperation. 

– 

“You know,” you say, much later that night as you rest your cheek on his chest. “You still owe me an explanation. Just ‘cause we slept together doesn’t mean I totally forgive you.” 

Atsumu considers making a quip about how you being here with him, drawing indiscernible patterns on his torso with your finger, wearing his clothes, sleeping in his bed, smelling like him is making it look pretty good for him, but he figures he flew way to close to the sun for today. 

“I know. And I promise we’ll talk more. No more dinin’ and dashin’ in the mornin’, yeah?” 

You consider this for a moment, before propping both arms on his chest and resting your head on your fists thoughtfully. 

He thinks it's the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“Just so I don’t misunderstand anything again-”

“You’re not misunderstanding anything, I promise.”

“I know, but I have to hear it.” 

“Will you be my wife?” 

“Atsumu!” 

“Okay, okay sorry. We’ll do that later then. Can we start with girlfriend?” 

“Hmm… I’ll need to think about it. Not sure how I feel about a guy who goes straight to home plate before he even takes me out to dinner.” 

“Y’know what, now that you mention it, I don’t know how I feel about a girl who goes home with a guy she just met-” 

“Shut up.” you snort and something’s definitely not right because every sound you make is the most adorable thing. He swears he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“And ‘Tsumu?” 

Lovestruck, he croons, “yeah, darlin’?” 

“I’d love to be your fiance.” 

“That’s my girl.”

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖱𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖨 𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎." ༄࿔ L.K.

⤷ Dubcon/Noncon | Knife Play | Spanking

♱ word count: 2.3k

♱ warnings: this has darker content!! dont like? dont interact: dubcon/noncon, fem!reader, ghostface!minho, reader switches up during the ending but during the smut minho has control, knife play (1 small nick and he carves his name into readers back but its shallow), light mentions of blood, spanking, p in v with no prep or condom (be safe about this irl pls), open ending?

♱ notes: this was so self indulgent because im slowly becoming obsessed with slashers again 🥴

not properly proofread! i will go through it later in the day after i sleep <3

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The cabin you were staying at was eerily silent as you sat in the dimly lit living room. It was a rental that you had planned to stay at for a week to spend your vacation off of work and it was absolutely beautiful during the day. Though, the forest surrounding it combined with the knowledge of just how far the nearest area with people made for a rather scary experience during the night time.

Part of you was on edge as you made your way past the floor-to-ceiling windows towards the kitchen and chills ran up your spine as you stared out those same windows only to be met with complete darkness. Not even the moon was enough to cast light on the tall trees.

‘Maybe a glass of water will help.’ You had been tossing and turning in bed for hours before you gave up and settled in the living room, only to discover that there was no signal on the TV. You were lucky to have even 1 bar as you opened your phone to check the time; 2:46 AM.

It wasn’t a horrible time to be awake, but the promise of sleep would have helped with the paranoid itching in the back of your head. Anybody could break in and nobody wouldn’t know until it was too late. And even if you knew, you were a long way from any means of help-

A sudden creak in the floorboards catches your attention. Your neck snapped towards the dark hallway, then again to the huge windows as your heart raced. The Airbnb host stated that it’s an old house so it’s known to make many noises, so ‘It was probably nothing’. You repeated this to yourself over and over again as you chugged the rest of your water and turned to clean the glass, hoping the distraction would help with the anxiety.

But just as your hand wraps around the tap handle, another creak is heard and a hand wraps around your mouth. Another slides around your front and pushes a long kitchen knife against your neck. The intruder uses his whole body to roughly push you into the counter and your heart drops as you let out a scream in surprise.

The feeling of the cold counter is almost soothing as his deep, nearly robotic, voice meets your ears. “Haven’t seen you around here before… If I take my hand off your mouth, you won’t make me angry and scream for help, right?” He slides the knife along your neck, nicking the skin there slightly as a warning.

Your lack of a response makes him chuckle and he traces the tip of the knife along your cheek, “It’s not like anybody will hear you anyway, but I wouldn’t want this pretty face to get hurt. So what do you say?” You nod as best as you can in this position and let out a quiet sob when his palm releases your face.

“P-Please…Don’t kill me.” Your plea comes out in a quiet whisper, hoping the hushed voice won’t upset your attacker. If it does, he doesn’t let it be seen in the slightest.

“Shhhhh” He tuts at you and rolls his hips forward, rubbing his hard-on against your ass and forcing your hips farther into the countertop. The pinching of your skin between your bone and the marble top makes you hiss in pain, but he ignores you and rubs your hip with his now free hand.

“Let’s play a game~” He doesn’t give you time to respond before he flips you around, wrapping a hand around your neck as he roughly pins you to the counter again.

You’re finally met with his face- or what would be his face, but is instead a long, white ghost mask that would be comical if you didn’t notice the feeling of a drop of blood running down your neck from where he nicked you.

“I’m a little stressed out, so I’m gonna fuck this sweet cunt of yours. If you play nice, I’ll let you live. But if you act like a bitch, I'll kill you!”

The joyful tone in his voice causes your skin to crawl and you let out a quiet sob of fear at the deadly ultimatum. Your choices are quite slim, and you can’t deny the ache that’s starting between your legs, so you don’t take long to nod in agreement.

“Mmmm… Smart girl. Let’s get this off of you then, yeah?” He tugs at your pajama shorts and finally moves the knife off your skin, giving you just enough leeway to move around and pull your shorts down. Once they’re far enough down your legs to drop to your ankles on their own, the unknown man behind you spins you around and immediately pulls your shirt up and over your head.

He sighs almost dreamily against the mask and you watch his head tilt down as he takes in your naked torso. You can feel his stare on you for a while longer until his head tilts further and he’s met with the sight of your pretty panties- the ones that are keeping him from his “prize.”

He curses under his breath and snakes his empty hand to the back of your neck. He grasps you tightly and uses his grip there to lead you to the huge windows, pushing you against them roughly.

“What a pretty piece of ass you got here, baby.” The hand on your neck moves down in favor of grabbing a handful of your ass cheek, landing a teasing slap there as he finishes his sentences. “Might have to go home with you- make you my little pet.” You moan both at the implication of him following you home as well as the delicious sting on your ass.

The masked man chuckles darkly and lands a harsher slap on your other ass cheek. “Call me crazy but I think you like that idea. Hmmmm? Wanna be my little kitty- my little toy for me to fuck whenever I feel like it?” You were starting to get too comfortable, and he seems to realize it. So he brings you back right to where he wants you by sliding his free hand around to your tummy. 

The occupied hand runs the sharp side of the knife around your back, leaving shallow lines that you can’t quite make out. But none of that matters. Not when he’s sliding his hand into your panties, rubbing his gloved fingertip through your soaked folds.

You’re almost thankful that he can’t tell through the gloves, but the stinging pain of the knife almost carving into your skin is diverting your attention from the rough circles on your clit. Thankfully, though, he finishes his “design” faster than you thought he would.

The feeling of a thick finger entering you grabs your attention, making you moan loudly and buck your hips against his hand. A muffled laugh is heard through the mask and his voice is husky as he speaks again, “Gonna be good for me and let me fuck this pretty pussy now, yeah?”

You don't respond right away and he pulls his finger out of you, pinching your clit meanly. “I asked you a question.” His partially wet glove comes down harshly on your ass and leaves a red mark in its wake.

You let out a squeak at the pain and apologize profusely before responding to him. “Y-Yes!”

“Good girl. You almost lost the game there, pretty kitty.” He laughs to himself and you watch in the reflection of the mirror as he brings the knife down between your thighs. Part of you is horrified at what he might try, and the other part is rather aroused at the possibilities that run through your head.

But he shuts them all down when he slides the dull side against your thigh and leads it to your underwear. He runs his hand along your spine and leans you forward, pushing your ass out for him as the knife dips into your underwear- dull side up.

With this he slices downwards in one swoop, slicing your panties and causing you to gasp in surprise. You can almost hear the smile on his face as he shushes you and slices one of the sides next.

Your arms shake as they rest against the cold glass of the window and you sit there helplessly as he rids you of the ruined fabric. Once you’re left completely bare, he whistles in satisfaction and leans back.

His hand squeezes your ass cheek appreciatively as the hand with the knife rests at your hip, itching to touch you as well but knowing better than to let his guard down so easily. No matter how well-behaved you've been for him so far.

“Such a pretty thing. I really should keep you to myself.” He hums and bites down on your ear. You hear the knife get tossed beside you onto the wood floor before one of his hands slides into your hair, tangling with the strands there and tugging your neck backward. 

All of a sudden the sound of metal hitting wood meets your ears and you see the knife lying on the floor, a couple of feet from where you two stand. Then his hands are removed from you for mere seconds as he hooks his thumbs into his pants and pushes down, hurriedly shoving his boxers down alongside his jeans.

The sound of his jeans hitting the floor makes your thighs clench and he takes notice immediately. He coos from behind you and the smile is evident on his face as he slides himself through your folds a few times, teasing you and testing how far gone he’s got you.

Your desperate grinding gives him the only answer he needs and he finally pushes in, groaning at the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him.

“Shit… You feel so good, kitty.” The cool plastic of the ghost mask meets your shoulder as he lays his forehead down against it.

You can’t hold back the whine that builds in the back of your throat and your nails scratch into the glass as much as they physically can as he starts to move already.

“P-Please…” You’re not so sure what you’re asking for. Maybe it was mercy. Or maybe, just maybe, all those months of research about some local town's serial killer were finally paying off.

But who needs to know that!? The man behind you is completely oblivious as he pulls his hips back just to drive them back into you. You barely remember it yourself from the way his mushroom tip, thick and pulsing, rams into your G-spot.

So much so that you can feel your orgasm sneaking up so much sooner than it usually would. It eventually wracks through your body like a train as the hand in your hair tightens, holding you close to him as he slows his hips to a slow grind.

“Fffuck.. Tight little cunt, baby. But I’m not done just yet.” He picks up his pace once more and uses his free hand to caress your hips, squeezing the flesh there appreciatively before landing a slap against the same area.

He soothes it with another rub, though short-lived before his hand finds its home on your ass cheek. There he lands a series of slaps paired with his muffled moans as you clench around him incessantly.

The hand in your hair finally releases its grip only to find another on the back of your throat again. He uses this one to hold you in place, keeping your cheek pressed flush against the window as he fucks into you with no care.

He continues to use you like his personal fleshlight as he grunts behind you, legs shaking from his oncoming release. The same release that is left deep in your walls, swimming around before dripping out onto your abused folds.

You both moan in unison as you cum around him again, whining at the sharp thrusts that were meant to fuck his seed further into you.

He finally pulls out once your cunt is done milking him and he pulls out a phone from his jeans, snapping a quick photo with flash on before laughing to himself behind his mask.

While he’s occupied with his delusions, you decide it’s time to make your move. 

You push his chest lightly and watch as he collapses onto the couch, head tilted up at you in amusement while his arms settle on the back cushions.

“Yeah?” His voice is deep and breathy, it goes straight to between your thighs and you almost moan at simply hearing him like that as well as the confident stance he’s taken. But you have a mission to do!

One that includes rushing to pick up the knife from the floor and not giving him a chance to respond before you’re straddling his thick thighs and pressing the knife to his throat.

His arms stay in place on the cushions and he huffs out a laugh in pure amusement, waiting patiently for you to make your next move.

What he didn’t expect was the grinding of your leaking cunt on his no longer softening cock. He moans lowly at the feeling and goes to rest a hand on your hip, only to be met with your hand slapping it away and the other digging the knife into the skin of his neck. Karma.

“I won your game fair and square. So let’s play my game.” Your hand reaches up under the mask and tears it off his face. 

He’s not sure why a potential survivor seeing his face doesn’t worry him. But when his tip catches onto your clit and you hold the knife steady in his neck, he thinks he’s just fallen in love.

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

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@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess

@dreamingaboutjisung @everythingboutkpop @velvetmoonlght

[pedge-page]

does tommy ever feel the wrath of joel’s pregnant wife or does she reserve that specifically for joel? I feel like tommy would get on her nerves a little bit 😂

I was waiting for someone to ask this! Tbh I think preggo wife saves her wrath for Joel simply because shes comfortable with him and can relax and let her guard down. With Tommy alone....

Tommy Dealing with Preggo Wife

Warnings: just language and Joel and Wife being insecure in their own (slightly toxic) ways

- - - -

You were super pregnant at this point. A couple weeks away from making Joel a doting husband to a doting father, and he was probably more on edge than you were. Your anxious little poor husband Joel, freaking out that he needed to take a weekend trip away, and the only person he can rely to watch over you--

"I don't need to be fucking baby sat--!"

-- his sweet, helpless, innocent little pregnant wife, is unfortunately, Tommy.

"Ok listen very carefully," Joel starts, now having Tommy's full attention like he's about to ask him to do his first heart transplant. "She doesn't go anywhere unless you decide. She eats what you put in front of her, and you don't take her shit. She's gonna be bitchy and whiny and crying. She needs to rest. Rub her shoulder, put her feet up, whatever. But you gotta tough through and just make sure she understands that you're in charge. And what you say, goes. Got it?"

He knows Joel is relying on him to take care of his most precious belonging...who also is the devil. "Ok...ok. I mean it's like a... like watching a toddler, right?" Tommy asks, unsure about the whole thing.

"Yeah... a pregnant one that weighs more than ya and swears and probably will slap you a lot."

Joel smacks Tommy's shoulder lovingly with an encouraging smile.

Tommy feels even more hesitant. but he knows that he just needs to channel his inner Joel this weekend: stern, unmoving, and commanding, and he'll do just fine navigating you.

Joel hugs you real tight and kisses your forehead, inhaling your hair deeply as if to etch it into his brain. "I love you, baby, I'm gonna miss you so--"

"Later fucker." you pat his bum and wave him off as you waddle away in his large T shirt towards the freezer drawer, pulling out a Ben and Jerry's fudge pint with wet lips and a grin.

Tommy shrugs and helps Joel out to the truck with his bag. he waves goodbye as his brother backs out the driveway, shouting "YOU'RE IN CHARGE!"

I'm in charge, I'm in charge, he chants to himself, taking a deep breath before entering your house again.

"Alright!" he claps his hands together awkwardly but with a tone leadership. "We are going to stay in bed today,"

"Mall," you grump though a big scoop of ice cream.

"W-what?"

"M'goin ta mall. Yur takin mee," you nod towards him casually, gulping another spoon.

"uhh-h." Tommy looks around anxiously. Was this part of the test? He should put his foot down, yeah, Joel said you go no where unless Tommy explicitly said so. "N-no."

you swallow. "'Scuse me?"

"N-no? I mean... no! I said, we are putting you in bed, and what i say, go--"

"Thomas Miller," you say, and an eerie sense of fear swallows Tommy, sending shivers all over his body. Despite the 90 degree forecast, its like someone just tossed his insides into a freezer, and you were locking him in.

"Y-yes...maam," he whispers, feeling small.

"We can either do this... the hard way," you tilt your head with a sinister gaze towards him, as if referencing that bit of "Joel" he's trying to channel inside. "Or, we can do this... my way." The way you smile at the end is somehow even more threatening than the chilled tone you're having with him.

It was like when he and Joel broke his grandma's vase, and rather than yelling at them, she had the exact same terrifyingly threatening voice, and it made Tommy sleep with one eye open for a week.

"What will it be, Thomas."

He remembers to breathe shakily through his nose, licking his parched lower lip.

He doesn't want to be known as the guy who got beat up by his pregnant sister in law.

-

"Do you want a pretzel?" you ask kindly.

"Ah... no--no that's okay--"

"I'm getting you one, honey, just say Thank you."

"Okay. T-thank you."

Tommy bites into the cinnamon sugar one with the extra glaze you had ordered, and he had never felt such sweet heaven.

"Joel used to yell at me for my sweet tooth," he admits as the two of you stuff your faces and waltz slowly down the mall halls.

"Me too!" you bump his shoulder heartily.

Tommy lets out a relaxed sigh. From the moment he agreed to do whatever it was you wanted, the weekend had been fantastic. Turns out, you're not only super fun to blast kareoke to the worst songs in the car, but also all full of warmth, laughter, and even more suprisingly, extremely generous at offering to spoil him rotten like a mother with her favorite child.

"What can I make you for dinner?"

"Wha--no I'm supposed to cook for you--"

"Tommy stop please. I want to make you something. You have to be stuck with me all day walking like a slow penguin. I want to do something for you. You deserve it. "

You hadn't noticed Tommy pausing along your walk, watching you in awe as you waddled about, gently caressing your tummy absentmindedly as you window shopped.

This was the demon that Joel complained about every hour of the day???

And even more concerning was: how did someone like JOEL manage to score a girl like YOU???

You were so peaceful, generous, kind, loving, all smiles and willing to take care of him.

Was he doing everything right or everything wrong?

The two of you return home, with Tommy hauling more gifts that you had bought him. He really wasn't able to protest, with you somehow disappearing from sight conveniently, to his horror that he somehow lost you like a puppy in the park, and then finding you suddenly swiping your card at a register.

He should feel bad, truly, but you were just in such a good mood, he didn't want to seem ungrateful. And he also.... really liked all of it.

"Oh these are so fuckin nice!" He cheers, pulling out the new sneakers you had just bought in it's wrapping paper. "Mine are--"

"Old and ratty, yes I know that's why I bought them. Sick of your nasty shoes trailing my house--"

"S-sorry--"

"Bought you some fuzzy slippers too so you can switch out when you come in."

"Im not really a slippers guy..."

"You are now."

You ended up making a quick spaghetti, slapping him away every time he tried to hover in the kitchen. "I wanna stand! good exercise!" you nod with a smile.

And it seemed like you meant it. Despite babyzilla cooking and ready to burst out, you were light on your feet in the kitchen. Like a ballerina dancing and swaying, you hummed to a tune in your head as you tasted the sauce on the spatula. You were in the zone, in your world. and it was genuinely... beautiful. He understood it now, when people say pregnant women glow. the entire time, Joel always said you did, but he only ever saw how tired the pregnancy made the both of you.

Was... Joel the problem?

After a hearty dinner, Tommy washed up the dishes. You said your goodnights and headed to your master bedroom, tucked in, and lights off just as Tommy gathered his pillows down the hall in the guest bedroom.

He sighs, laying on his belly and inhaling the fresh linen before closing his eyes.

Not more than a few moments pass before he hears some sniffles down the hall. Then again, a cough and whine.

He sits up and heads down to your room, the door cracked and dark. he flips the light switch on to see you sitting upright in your bed, rubbing your eyes.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

"M'good!" you give him two thumbs up. "Night!"

He nods and flips the switch off again, turning away. he doesn't make it two steps before he hears your unmistakable crying.

He turns the lights back on to see you wiping fat tears from your cheeks, sobbing into your shirt--Joel's shirt.

"Hey...what's wrong? Are you okay? ya in pain? What can I--"

You pull your face up, lips trembling and all tear soaken. He sees your clutching one of Joel's jackets in your hands, wrapped tightly like you don't want it to leave you. A completely emotional mess as you huff and puff.

He puts the pieces together. "Ya miss Joel, don't you--"

"I MISS HIMMMMMM!!!!!!!!" you wail, erupting into a long cry into the air with slunked shoulders and larger tears strolling down from the creases of your closed eyes.

He tightens his lips awkwardly, not wanting to let out a chuckles. Turns out big scary pregnant "later fucker" wife really did love that dumbass. Its also probably the first time he sees bags under your eyes, like you were hiding your exhaustion. When Joel is around, you almost never looked tired. Just pouty and groutchy like a spoiled senior cat.

Maybe Joel wasnt the problem, but the solution. He knew how to take care of you, knew what you needed when you needed it, knew when to put his foot down, and even when hed watch you two bicker and bitch, joel knew exactly how to get you in bed wrapped around him like gumby. Every. Single. Night.

He rubs your arm soothingly.

"Why"-hiccup--"did he"--sniffle--"leave me!"

"He aint leave ya, just had some work."

"HE HATES ME!!!!!!!!!"

He shakes his head, knowing you're inconsolable. rather than trying to reason, he brings you to his shoulder so you can cry your heart out on him as he hugs you. "There there," he hums, swaying you two side to side.

like a crying toddler indeed.

"M'sorry," you whimper, rubbing your eyes with your balled fists. "Wakin' you up, me crying like this. I can't--I can't help it some times..." your voice waivers, face warm in embarrassment that you're burdening Tommy so much.

"Don't sweat it. You did a lot today. Can I get you anything to cheer you up?" he suggests, expecting a trip down to the freezer for a nice tub of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cr--

"Can you get the jar of pickles?"

That...is fine too.

He brings up the largest jar of dill pickles he's ever seen in his life, sets them in your lap. He pops open the sturdy lid for your eager fingers to pull a long dill out and slink it into your lips. the satisfying crunch echoes in the room as you munch.

You start crying again. "I Fucking HATE Pickles!" you groan angrily before taking another generous crunch with a confusingly delightful hum. "Like--I hate it, but they're good?"

He chuckles, taking a piece. He pauses, eying you fearfully as if he made a wrong move not asking your permissions to take one of your hated yet coveted pickles. You nod, and the two of you crunch down on the peculiar snack.

"It's probably from the baby..."

"Fuckin' weirdo." you pat the rounded hump of your tummy and swallow the rest of your slice. Though, the way you stroke along the skin so delicately with a little smirk, he knows you're already in love with your "fuckin weirdo" baby more than anyone could love anything in this world.

Tommy never really thought about the word "uncle" until this moment, and the first emotion he has to associate it with, is excitement.

"Mkay. I'm done now." You hold the jar out to him so he can close it. "Thank you, Tommy," you say sweetly with the gentlest, sleepiest smile. "I really appreciate it."

THIS IS THE ANGEL JOEL HAS THE NERVES TO COMPLAIN ABOUT????

He swears, if Joel comes back and calls him up later saying how insufferable you are, he may just have to size up and smack his big brother.

Tommy pats your head, tucks you in again and turns of the lights.

-

The next day you make Tommy take you to breakfast and get him as many pancakes and French toast he can stuff his face with. A spoiled little brother indeed, and as he swallows another lump of the best breakfast eggs he's ever had, he wonders how sweet life would have been with a big sister like you spoiling him every day instead of Joel making him do chores and shit.

Its not until Joel is meeting the two of you at a lunch spot that Tommy remembers exactly what Joel always groans about.

"Hi baby!" He grins, rushing to give you a big hug for the first time in two days.

And despite your crying for him last night, you only retort with "sup fucker" casually and near bored, as if you weren't sniffing his jacket and Wagging your imaginary tail in disguise.

Joel purses his lips sarcastically, knowing you mean well, and Tommy laughs. You two definitely understood each other way better than he thought.

"Im gonna wash my hands, you two get a table," Joel says, and disappears down the back entrance.

Your waitress greets you just as Tommy is helping you slide down into the booth, big baby belly and all.

"Just three waters, please,"

"And a pepsi! Lots of ice. Two pepsis actually. And bread. And maybe like uh milkshake to start off?--"

The waitress glances at Tommy with a raised brow, wondering if you're genuine or not. He shrugs and nods, noting "she's pretty far along if ya can tell."

"My older sister was the same way. I'll get that in. You two...sorry I shouldn't say it but you two make a cute couple--" she says kindly.

Unfortunately, its exactly at the same Joel returns and hears that last bit, directed towards you and Tommy.

She walks away just as you catch Joels bewildered expression, conveniently with Tommy's hand on your bump and another around your lower back (supporting you into the booth of course but JOEL doesn't see it that way with this new context).

You and Tommy open your mouths to dismiss the claim and misunderstanding, but ever defensive Joel just shoves Tommy aside, slides into your booth next to you and slams your hand into his lap, his bear paws enclosed around yours. Tommy quietly slides into the opposite end, met with Joels flaring nostrils and billowing steam coming out of them.

The younger Miller realizes that slapping some sense into Joel and "sizing him up" was a total pipe dream. He'd be lucky to live long enough to an uncle at this point.

You gotta defend your poor brother in law. "The waitress just saw--"

"Cute couple, huh," he seethe with gritted teeth his entire seething focus at Tommy rather than paying any mind to you.

"Joel stop, Tommy was REALLY great to me this weekend--"

"Oh I BET he was," he grunts, turning towards you with a scowl. "S'that why he got new shoes on?" Joel damn well knows Tommy didn't just pony up and buy new shit for himself this weekend, given he refuses to buy himself anything new for years past it's expiration.

Tommy knows he's never allowed to baby sit you alone again at this rate.

"She was crying last night saying how much she missed ya," Tommy blurts.

You kick his shin under the table, not wanting to let Joel know what a pathetic groveling mess--

"Wait really!?" he nuzzles closer to your, as if all the anger in his body dissipated at the notion his poor little wife was calling out for her hubby.

Tommy chuckles and nods. "We shared some pickles in bed, ain't that right?"

You slap your face just as Joel rears his once again flaring red face towards Tommy. "You did WHAT in WHERE????"

- - - -

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[strwberri-milk]

good day, author! Can I request an angst to fluff lads x reader ff where the reader was so inlove with the but they thought they love someone else. Until one day, the reader stopped and that's when they realized that it's her that they love not someone else. Sorry I know it's common and cringe but I want an angst fic 😭

ngl i really struggled to understand what was wanted here but!! i think i figured it out LMAO - i did put them all into 1 bc i just didnt see the dialogue shifting too much w what i had in my head i hope you dont mind <3

You'd never known that he was in love with you because he never acted like he was. You thought that the kindness he showed you was because he simply was that - kind. You'd never entertain the idea that he might actually have feelings for you. Sometimes you'd ask him if he was seeing anybody and he'd get a little quiet before telling you no. You don't really believe him though because whenever you'd ask him who his ideal partner is he'd get this look in his eyes you could never place before telling you that it's not something you need to worry about.

You thought that was his way of telling you he knows how you feel about him and that's how he's choosing to let you down easily. You decide that it's too difficult to be around him, telling him one day that you need to distance yourself from him. You can't admit the reason why, feeling a little humiliated by the childish way you're reacting but a big part of you simply can't help it.

You decide to push your feelings down for him, knowing that this was the only way that you could cope with the burden that is your emotions. You feel better, deciding that keeping your feelings to yourself would be the best thing to do to avoid ruining the friendship that the two of you built up so carefully. You'd never forgive yourself for losing him, telling yourself that just being beside him like this was more than enough for you.

"Why did you do that?"

You stare at the man standing on your doorstep, soaked from the rain as he stares at you intently.

"What do you mean?"

Your phone is still in hand, the message you sent him sitting on delivered.

"You can't seriously mean that, can you?"

You've never seen him like this before. You thought you'd spent enough time with him to know every emotion he's felt, to see the weight of them on his face. You could scarcely recognise the look in his eyes and your hands twitch with the need to hold his face.

"I didn't think you'd ever say something like that. Do you not know how I feel about you?"

Now his words are desperate, something you've definitely never heard from him before.

"I...I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, averting his gaze.

"I just...I know that you have feelings for someone. I don't want to get in the way of your happiness but I'm scared that if I stay by your side I'll end up doing so by accident. I just want you to be happy."

His eyes widen slightly, shaking his head as he laughs a little bitterly.

"You really think I could feel this way about anybody but you?"

Your brain takes a moment to process what he says, staring at him.

You're about to question him, asking if he's actually serious when he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, holding you in his arms tightly.

"It's you," he mutters softly against your lips.

"It's always been you."

[moosesarecute]

Missing mates

Rhys couldn’t breathe.

He felt completely lost in his world. Because he had lost his world.

Or, he hadn’t lost her completely, but at the moment he didn’t know when he would get his High Lady home and the wait felt like forever.

With Feyre in the Spring Court, Rhys could vomit at the thought, he didn’t feel like himself.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep and he felt like he couldn’t breathe either.

To think that his mate was in a different court. To think that she didn’t think highly enough of herself to think that she was a part of their family. That she could sacrifice herself to go back to a place she withered away.

He almost cried at the thought alone. Ignoring the primal urge to go to the Spring Court and bring her home got harder for every minute that went by.

He stood in their shared room and watched the bed. How was he going to sleep in it without Feyre?

A careful knock on the door pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Knock, break, knock knock, break, knock.

Not even his sister’s childish knocks could make him smile.

His sister.

Rhys rushed to the door and opened it.

“Is he awake?” He asked immediately.

“You actually think I would have left his side if he was awake?” You asked sounding annoyed.

The exhaustion was visible on your body. Both in your posture and the bags under your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you continued. “I’m exhausted, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Rhys opened the door wider and you walked in. He sat down on the bed and you sat in a chair.

“How are you holding up?” He asked you.

You couldn’t help but sigh as you leaned back into the chair. Your eyes were closed.

“I feel empty and lost,” you answered honestly. “The usual when the bond is quiet. You?”

“I’m okay,” Rhys lied. He didn’t want to put his emotions on you when you already looked so exhausted.

You opened your left eye and gave him a knowing look before you closed it again.

“I feel like I’m dying,” Rhys changed his answer and let out an exhausted laugh. “How do you do this? Azriel is on a mission like every other day.”

You sat up and opened both your eyes this time.

“You get used to it in a way. It gets less overwhelming after a few years.”

“Years!? I thought it only lasted a few weeks before it started to get less intense.” Rhys was actually shocked.

You smiled as you thought back at the first years being mated to Azriel. Even though it was overwhelming and sometimes also annoying, you loved to think back to the time when you two were clinging together at every time. At the time when being even a room away from each other made you feel like dying.

“It gets a little better after the Frenzy, but after that you have to build up endurance to be away from each other for longer periods without the instincts taking over. I don’t know how to explain it, it just works.” You were deep in your own thoughts as you spoke. Your eyes were focused on the wall behind Rhys.

“I still don’t understand how you didn’t grow crazy. You hate it when Azriel is protective.”

His words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Firstly, I don’t mind Azriel being protective, but after accepting the mating bond it was way too much. Secondly, I wouldn’t call walking around and spraying my mate with a bottle of water ‘not going crazy’.”

It sprung upon him. He hadn’t smiled in over three days and suddenly he was laughing.

And with his laugh, you also started laughing.

It was hysterical. Tears ran from your eyes from laughing to much.

“I had forgotten about that,” Rhys said in between laughs. “You are crazy.”

When the laughter died down you both went back to your tired stares.

“Have you slept yet?”

The way you spoke made him understand that you already knew the answer.

His gaze turned to the bed he sat on and you spoke again before he could say anything.

“Sleepover in the living room?”

“We must have been under sixty the last time we did this just the two of us,” you said as you laid down. “Feels like forever ago.”

“Because it was.”

You laid in comfortable silence.

“Can I ask you something, little one?”

“Of course, Rhysie.”

You turned towards him. He drew a nervous breath.

“You spent fifty years apart and I can’t even do three days without absolutely losing it. What am I going to do?”

He felt like his life had stopped. That he couldn’t move on.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Azriel and I had been mated for over 400 years when we ended up under the Mountain. You two have barely been mated for two weeks. You could still be ravishing each other in the Frenzy right now and no one would bat an eye. You’ll be just fine!”

He listened to the words you said, but he still couldn’t understand a way forward.

“But how do you to that? How do you live through this?”

It wasn’t like him to be this self conscious, but nothing in his mind felt right.

“You don’t live through it,” you started. He could see on your face that he had brought up uncomfortable memories. “You do what you need to do to survive it. Sometimes that might be to pretend you’re someone else and that there isn’t anyone to miss. Other times that means you’re struggling to get out of bed, even to go to the bathroom, because everything seems pointless without him. Sometimes you just have to cry and scream and other times you have to sit in the quiet.”

The more you spoke the more distant he could see you become. You were lost in your thoughts.

He carefully moved his hand and nudged yours carefully.

You looked towards him.

“The point is, you just have to do what gives you the courage to get to the next day. The rest of us will help you through it. And when all of this is over, you two are going to take at least a month to yourself. You have deserved it.”

He could do that. One day at the time. One day. And even though currently a day lasted longer than a month usually would, he could do it.

“Thank you.”

“Believe it or not, being mates for centuries have actually taught me something,” you said with a smug smile.

“Maybe I should start listening more to my little sister.”

You both turn to look at each other.

“Nah,” both of you said.

Rhysand was alone in the living room when he woke. The ache in his heart was a little smaller than the past days.

Seeing your mattress empty beside him gave him hope.

He got up and immediately made his way to his sister’s old bedroom. The room Azriel was currently healing in.

The door was open and as he peeked inside he saw what he needed to see.

Azriel sat up in bed with a cup of tea in his left hand, his right was occupied brushing through your hair.

“How long have you been awake?” Rhys asked his brother.

“A couple of hours,” he answered silently, not looking away from you. “She hasn’t slept much, has she?”

“I’d say about three hours the past three days,” Rhys answered. “It’s good to see you alive and awake.”

“You too,” Azriel answered.

Rhysand made his way back to his and Feyre’s room. Suddenly, life seemed easier. He felt hopeful for a good ending. And he was very much looking forwards to holding Feyre as she slept on his chest.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

HELP ME HOLD ONTO YOU

osamu dazai x reader

in a rare moment of what he believes to be weakness, you help your boyfriend through a panic attack.

mentions of anxiety and dazai’s trauma 🤍 please read with discretion

inspired by the archer

dazai’s been the archer, and he’s been the prey.

he’s experienced both sides of an uneven coin. he’s been the hunter, the one of top with the power and the last laugh. alternatively, he’s been stomped on and hurt, used as nothing but a pawn.

both sides ultimately left a hole in his heart. he expects evil, the same evil he’s given to people his entire life. who expects betrayal, death, or simple abandonment. in the face of that pain, he smiles.

he smiles because he’s expected it. he smiles to hide what he truly feels inside. like all the kings horses and men couldn’t put him together again.

he’s easy to approach, but hard to love. anyone who could see through his barriers, his equations and puzzles was certainly someone special. breaking through his walls was rewarding to you- since you discovered what it truly means to love osamu dazai.

loving him was like assessing an equation. his charm, his humour, his charisma- thats what people like about dazai. and for the most part, he’s fine with the surface level. but loving him means sitting next to him, tangled together on the couch, letting his hand press against your heart as he steels himself.

no one knows what truly goes on in dazai’s head. even when he vocalizes his thoughts, most people couldn’t ration his peculiar ideas. it seemed as though the only time you could see into his tortured heart was when he openly gave it to you, allowing himself to be loved.

he’s breathing is picking up as he his hand ever so slightly tightens around yours. he’s thinking and thinking deep, wondering if its okay for him to be this vulnerable around you.

he’s spent the entire night pacing like a ghost. he looked around and felt like the room was on fire, invisible smoke filling his lungs. all of the people he’s ever cared about die all alone.

when be turns to you, shutting his eyes and letting his forehead rest against yours, he searches for your dark side. be physically can’t believe that he’s safe, that he’s alright when he’s with you. no one knows it, but dazai is on survival mode long after he’s needed to be.

his mind ruminates on his failures and his shortcomings, wondering all the things that could have been different. the people he could have protected. the crimes he didn’t have to commit. the one life he could have saved.

if he was just a second sooner, just a bit faster. if he was perfect instead of almost perfect. if he could ever truly become a good man.

they see right through me.

they see right through me.

they see right through me.

[y/n] sees right through me.

even i see right through me-

“osamu.” you say, bringing him back to reality. “breathe.”

with that simple word, his eyes open. he didn’t even realize how much his breathing had picked up evident by the sweat on his palms and the frown curved on his lips.

you cup his face in your hands as he continues to ground himself, clinging to yours presence like a life buoy. he’s shaking.

suddenly, he’s holding onto you. dazai was always clingy, but this time it felt different. your quick to hug him back, throwing your arms around his back and rubbing soft circles over him. he presses his face into your bare shoulder, taking in your smell and assuring himself that you’re real.

at the end, he lets out and exasperated chuckle, pulling away just enough to look into your face. his eyes are glossy and it breaks your heart, knowing that he’s likely holding back his feelings.

“who could ever leave me, darling?” he asks sardonically, his lips curving into a forced smile. he doesn’t want you to see him like this. he’s got a 100 thrown out speeches he wants to say to you, about who he really is. and its moments like this when he feels like he can. that, despite all of his wrong doings, you’d still somehow love him.

he hopes you’ll see past his facade of being okay. and you do.

“i’m not going anywhere.” you whisper. thats the moment he realizes that you could stay.

and he searches your face for any signs of deception, the lies and betrayal he had known all his life.

he finds none.

[weaselle]

Let's talk chef knives

somebody in the comments on a cooking post is talking to me about knives and i figure, why not make a whole post about it

I worked in restaurants for two decades, and that means i was mostly too poor to buy expensive knives.. but i did learn EXACTLY what i was looking for in a knife, and eventually i did spend about $150 on one.

Now, you can easily spend $500 or more on a chef knife if you are the kind of person who cares about having the chef knife equivilent of a porche or lamborghini and i don't think many of you are looking for that, so I'm going to tell you what i looked for in my really-good-but-not-too-expensive chef knife

First of all, you don't need that block set of knives you see in like every kitchen ever. You know, this thing

You don't need that. Listen, theoretically each of those knives has a specific thing it is used for, but in all the restaurants i worked at, 99.9% of the stuff i did was done with one of these

We didn't go looking for a specific kind of knife, we just used one of these -- often a bunch of those were all that was provided. I uh, i didn't work at a lot of high end restaurants. But even in the nicer ones, most of what we used was a chef's knife.

So. In my opinion, instead of spending $100-$200 on a bunch of kind of shitty knives, spend the same money on one really nice chef knife, and a wetstone or some other sharpener you feel you can use. But really, like, just look at a wetstone tutorial on youtube, it's not hard, and it will make your life better.

NOW let me tell you what i looked for in my knife

This is the knife i use. It's a six inch Zwilling Pro

if you shop around, you can probably find it for close to 100 bucks. It's not Fancy™, it's just Quite Good. You can, if you want, find a chef knife for a couple grand, and that plastic-handled one in the first pic will run you less than ten dollars, so, this is a pretty good price point, on the low side of middle, with a knife quality on the high side of middle. If you take care of this knife, it could last you your whole life

Now let's talk about specific features I was looking for. First, inb4, metal quality. Zwilling is a good company, so the quality of their actual metal is pretty decent, and that's all you really need to know -- if you're getting your knife from a known decent knife company it's probably good enough quality. In this case Zwilling uses forged high-carbon German steel, which are some good key words to look for. That's all i have to say about that.

Now there are four specific things i was looking for that led me to choose this specific knife

1

Depth. This refers to how far the heel of the blade juts out from the handle (the heel of the blade is the part of the blade closest to your hand). When you have the blade resting with the edge flush against the cutting board, you want there to be plenty of room for the hand gripping the handle without knocking your knuckles against the board. A classic pinch grip doesn't need much room, but that's not the only grip you'll ever use, so give yourself some decent knuckle clearance. But not TOO much. Too much and your blade will kind of feel like it wants to flop over on its side when the edge hits the board.

2

Length. As an edgy 20 year old in restaurant kitchens, i always went for the biggest knife i could find, but because you're going to be using your chef's knife for everything, you actually want it short enough to use as a paring knife or whatever. The shorter the blade, the more control over the tip you have. Me, i never really need anything longer than six inches. I was a little bit worried when i first got it, but i've never wound up wishing it was longer.

3

Weight. Even though it's just about as short as a chef's knife can be, my knife has a good amount of weight to it. A somewhat heavy blade helps with chopping, and provides a good balance for other knife skills. When you are chopping and slicing, a decent amount of weight helps a lot. It doesn't have to be heavy heavy, but when you pick it up, it should definitely feel like a chunk of steel, not like a pressed aluminum toy. Plus, some of the weight will come from thickness, and a thicker blade will stand up to more sharpening and last you longer too.

4

Bolster Shape

If you look at the Zwilling Pro's bolster, it has a bolster that is sort of beveled into the heel of the blade with a nice curve. Right right, what's a bolster, hold on, here's the anatomy of a knife

on this knife, you can see that where the bolster meets the blade it makes basically a right angle where it goes from thick to thin. This is distressingly common in chef knives

now look at the bolster on the Zwilling Pro

and here's a similar bolster shape from a different angle

First of all, the bolster is diagonal, which is the right shape for me to hold in a classic grip. Every chef has their own grip, but it's always a variation on pinching the blade just above the bolster, and a diagonal bevel works better for my grip.

And just as important to me, it might be hard to tell, but the metal curves from the thickness of the handle to the thinness of the blade instead of using a right angled edge to go from thick to thin. This curve sort of follows the movement your knife makes against the knuckle you use to guide the blade when you do this

I tend to use the deepest part of the heel a lot, and, depending on what i'm doing with the knife, my grip can often be nearly off the blade it's so far back, so i have a tendency to knock a straight bolster directly against my index knuckle. Just a little, but after a few dozen times in half a minute it starts to irritate my finger. A curved bolster like on the Zwilling Pro sort of glides to a stop against my guiding knuckle instead of banging into it, provides a comfortable pinch, and makes my life in the kitchen better.

That might not be true for everyone, it's just important to pay attention to how you use a knife, especially if you find yourself thinking something like "it would be better for me if this part of the knife was different in this way" or "this knife would be easier to grip if it was shaped like this instead" or "i wish the shape of this knife didn't mean this was always happening" or whatever. Could even be how your knife fits in your dishwasher, just pay attention to what works and doesn't work for you personally so you know What you're looking for. But you for sure want to look at the Depth, Weight, Length, and Shape.

So. There you have it. Some things to pay attention to when selecting a knife that may allow you to get a good knife for yourself without spending tooooo much money.

[inmyheaddd]

but i love that man, like nobody can - rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe has been distant with you and then acts like nothing has happened. you feel so insane because he acts like everything is fine, to the point where you snap. warnings: resolved angst, mild language, maybee slight kind of gaslighting if you look closely… nothing really tbh! a/n: i needed obx 4 by yesterday wc: 1k

“fucking, let go of me, i don’t need your help.” you said as you aggressively wiped angry tears off your face, the action quickly rendered useless because they were only replaced by new ones within the second.

rafe took another step closer to you, “it doesn’t look like it.” he said as he put one hand on your waist, the other moving your your chin so he could get a better look at your face.

“you’re such a dick, just stop it.” you whined in frustration, sounding more sad than angry now as shrugged his hands off of you, turning on your heels and only getting one step in before he grabbed your arm, making you involuntarily turn around. 

your breath hitched in your throat, you were getting ready to say something back, before rafe put both his hands on your shoulders, catching you off guard. 

he crouched down slightly to be eye level with you, and the act alone somehow made you want to stop shouting back. 

“listen, baby, you’re acting crazy right now.” he pointed out, eyes flicking between your tear filled ones. “i don’t know what the fuck is happening with you, but you gotta stop takin’ it out on me, alright?”

his voice was surprisingly level, not angry like how anyone else would’ve assumed he would be.

you shook your head, tears threatening to spill again before you forced them back. “i’m not acting crazy. you’re being mean to me, how am i supposed to act?” 

he had been ignoring you and your texts all day today, then when he got home he sat next to you on the couch and lazily slung an arm around your shoulder. then, he casually pressed a kiss to the top of your head like nothing happened. 

the action ticked you off way more than it should’ve, and now you were here. 

“mean?” rafe chuckled like your words were some kind of joke, as he put his hands back to his sides and stood up fully. “what are you talkin’ about, baby?” he furrowed his brows at you, looking at you like you were speaking another language, but somehow being amused. 

“that is what i’m talking about!” you exclaim, sounding far too affected than you wanted to come off as. 

“you say all these nice things, call me all these pet names, and act like you really care,” you sniffle, wiping the tried tears off of your face, “but then the next day you act like i don’t exist or something, and it’s so confusing, rafe.”

“you think i’m ignoring you?” he laughed bitterly. “you seriously think i don’t have better things to deal with than whatever the fuck is in your head right now?”

that switch in his tone dismissive tone hit you like a slap, and you flinched. “you don’t get it,” you muttered, voice trembling. 

“you just— you always—“ you cut yourself off with a sigh, so overwhelmed you couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. 

“you know what, fine, forget i said anything.” you stated, unable to do this any longer. 

“it doesn’t even matter.” you mumbled under your breath as you turned and walked away. 

“baby,” he called out defeatedly as he sighed. “wait,” he called out again, but you didnt turn around.  

he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as let out a long breath before he quickly caught up to you in 2 large strides. 

he stepped infront of you and put his hands on your arms, gentle but firm. you froze in his grip, the sudden change in him throwing you off.

everything inside you screamed to push him away and scream into a pillow, but instead, you found yourself sinking into the comfort of his touch, even though you knew better.

“listen, you’re not crazy, alright?” his gaze flickered between your eyes. “i don’t…” he trailed off, his voice going lower. “i didn’t mean to make you feel like that.” he murmured. “i’m not trying to mess with you.” 

you didn’t say anything for a moment, pouting. “then why do you keep acting like that? you only show up when it benefits you. you don’t even care.”

“what? no,” he spat out, before seeing the look on your face and speaking again. “no, baby, god no.” he said, gentler this time. 

“then what?” you pressed as you only got more confused with his answer. you were getting tired of this back and forth with him. 

“i’m a busy guy, alright? i don’t always have the time for shit, you know that.” he stated, raising his eyebrows expressively. he looked like he was thinking for a moment as he looked into your eyes, before he spoke again. “that doesn’t mean i don’t care.” 

when you kept silent and the pout you were carrying only got deeper, he continued. frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “you think i want to hurt you? because i dont.” his voice dropped quieter. “i just... i just have a lot going on.”

now your pout disappeared, “rafe,” your voice was barely a whisper, “i’m sorry. i know you didn’t want to hurt me.” you took a step closer to him, and his hands fell from your arms to your waist.

“nah, don’t apologize. it’s all good baby.” his hands moved to cradle your face, and you let yourself lean into his touch; rough but always gentle with you. “you know i care about you, right?”

his eyes darkened with something unreadable. you knew he wasn’t the best at talking about feelings, but you could see him trying. for you.

you nodded with your face still in his hands, “yeah,” you whispered.

“and you know that just because i might go away for a while, doesn’t mean i stopped caring about you, right?” 

you swallowed hard, your brain torn between wanting to believe him and the lingering doubt that kept nagging at you. "yeah, i know, but... sometimes it feels like i'm not even on your mind."

his eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. “you’re always on my mind, baby.” he muttered lowly, blue eyes boring into yours as he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes.

you couldn’t help the tiny smile that crept onto your face, feeling the dried tears long gone on your cheeks.

“always?” you asked somewhat teasingly, as rafe’s eyes lit with amusement upon seeing you smile. 

“all the fuckin’ time.” 

[blueberry-rose]

Overworked!Arlecchino x wife!reader

Warnings: fluff, nudity

Arlecchino’s been working so hard. Coming home late, she already wakes up before you and goes the bed after you, you get that her work is important but you miss being able to sit in her arms as just relax while the kids sleep. Plus you hate seeing those creases under her eyes because she not sleeping enough to the point where you will go up to her and pout until she finally goes to bed with you but that’s not helping considering you have caught her waking up at four in the morning and getting ready for work. You hate seeing her so overworked.

So you decided to do something that will make her relax at least a bit. You knew she was going to be mad at you but she’ll get over it. You turned her alarm off. Forcing her to sleep in a bit at least. You turned off your alarm too just so you had an excuse to lay in her arms longer. You felt her grip tighten stirring you from your sleep. “Mhm” you cuddled into her arms more.

“Dear, did you unplug my alarm clock?” You opened your eyes barely awake.

“What?” You questioned your eyes barely focusing on her face, her brows creasing, her face clean of makeup, her bags even more noticeable.

“Did you unplug my alarm, dear?” Her voice was more firm adding the dear to seem more gentle.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry. I had to clean behind our bedside tables.” It was a lie and Arlecchino could tell.

“Did you just lie to me”

“I can’t get anything past you” you let a pout form on your face.

“Why?” oh she’s mad.

“Because you’ve been overworking yourself. And I’m your wife so I have every right to make you take care of yourself.”

“And how dear, are you going to do that? I still can go to work for another 10 minutes and still make in on time.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep you busy until you can’t go to work”

“Oh?” You climbed on her straddling her hips, “someone’s eager” you started to press kisses to her face.

“Eager for my husband to take a day off”

“Are you wanting me to yourself today.”

“Mhm” you pressed a kiss to her lips. She quickly deepened it, her hands rest on your hips holding you in place.

“Fuck, you look so cute like this.” Arlecchino’s thumbs rubbed circles on your hips. “So what does my little wife have planned that she had to keep me home”

“I’m going to pamper you.”

“What?” Her eyes widened slightly.

“You always pamper me when I get stressed out, or overwhelmed. So I’m going to return the favor”

“Dear, I pamper you because I like to.”

“So let me pamper you this time, please” archons arlecchino can’t say no to your pleading eyes. You know she can’t.

“Fine. Just this once.” You placed a gentle kiss to her nose, before she pulled you into a kiss, her lips were so soft against yours. Her tongue easily over powering yours. She loves seeing how quickly you submit to her tongue letting her lead, she loves seeing you lose your breath just because she’s kissing you. When she finally releases your lips you were out of breath, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to hers. “Go on why do you show me how you’re going to pamper me” you got off her lap much to her disappointment.

“I might have gone out yesterday and got something’s”

“Ahh spending my money to pamper me”

“Hey, you told me that I would never have to work again when we got married so our money”

“I’m the one that makes it.”

“You make to much money for one lifetime”

“Just means I get to spend more on you”

“Be quiet will you I want to do something you for once”

“Careful what you say, dear. I don’t like when my little brat tries to take control.” You just stuck your tongue out before retreating to the bathroom. You heard her let out a sigh as you shut the door.

That’s when you started your little plan to take care you her stress. You turned on the water to a nice warm temperature, Arlecchino always liked her showers hot because of the cursed fire in her veins though she’s not picky. Cold or hot doesn’t matter. It wasn’t long before the mirrors fogged up. That’s when you grabbed the bag of stuff you brought yesterday night and hid under the sink. It had Epson salt, roses, and candles, red and black of course. You carefully remove the pedals off the roses decorating the bathroom floor with them and adding them to the bathtub. Then you set up the candles, lighting them carefully arranging them on the countertops, you sprayed the water a bit with your perfume, than added the epson salt. You know your husband is always alert, her muscles tense so you are hoping that this will help her relax. You peek out that bathroom after turning off the light bathing the bathroom in warm candle light.

You walked up to arlecchino, she finally got out of bed even with her heels off she towers over you, you never complained though, and she definitely doesn’t not with how much she calls you adorable and tiny. As so as she was within reach your started to remove her clothes, surprising her.

“You’re bold today dear,”

“Just let me take care of you, you don’t need to tease”

“Oh but you are so cute when you blush” after successfully getting her clothes off you grabbed her darkened hand pulling her in the bathroom. She stood there surprised for a second. “Dear, you did this? I might have to overwork more often”

You playfully smacked her arm. “Don’t you dare.”

“So demanding.” She tilted your head up with her index finger and thumb and placed a gentle kiss to your lips, “why don’t you join me love, I would hate to be in such a romantic setting all alone.”

“It’s supposed to be a gift for you.”

“It would be even better if I had you in my arms.”

“Fine, just let me get something first.”

“I guess I’ll get comfortable while I wait.” You left the bathroom and went to get some wine, and two cups. Hoping to spend the whole day just in her arms. And when you got but you saw your husband in the tub, eyes closed head leaning against the wall, arms resting on the side of the tub. “Welcome back dear” she didn’t even open her eyes but you can swear you see a faint smile, she rarely even shows you her emotions.

“I brought something to help you relax even more”

“Oh?” she opened her eyes turning her head to face you. “I see, my little wife is trying to make it impossible for me to get anything done today”

“Yep” you open the bottle and poured you both a cup. Handing her hers before you started to slip out of your clothes. You could feel her eyes never leaving the sight of you, like a predator to a pry. You then grabbed your wine before stepping into the tub, your wife’s legs opened so you could sit between them, you sat down in the tub the water was perfect, you let out a little sigh leaning back into your husband, her arms wrapping around you immediately.

“Looks like you needed this as much as I did”

“I am the mother of the house, I’m the one that has to deal with the children all day.”

“Yes but we have caretakers dear. You can take a day off to the little ones have older siblings that can take care of them too”

“I know. But I’m their mother I want to take care of them”

“I know dear,” she placed a gentle kiss to your head. “And you do an amazing job the kids are even more happy then I’ve ever seen them”

“Really?”

“Yes, you do amazing every day my dear. I couldn’t be prouder of you. My love.”

[baxndaid]

bill cipher , stanford pines x reader

ohh my god PLEASEE request stuff for gravity falls i love it so much ty for making a comeback!! i don’t normally do nsfw stuff but for them… nsfw under cut 💔

sfw

- gonna be honest, ford is a little control freak especially after he meets bill

- he likes things going according to his plans and calculations and if they don’t, then there’s clearly something wrong

- bill WOULD constantly inflate his ego so when ford had hired you to be his little lab assistant, it was a little suffocating

- despite this, he was super happy to learn that you were into the same things he was; anomalies

- ford was uptight and serious with you most of the time whereas bill was nonchalant and just a massive tease

- the demon didn’t really mind you, you were pretty open for anything and he, like ford, liked how you were a massive pushover

- on the other hand, bill disliked fiddleford because he asked too many questions, he was too wary (though he had the right to be)

- ANYWAYS, would ford and bill peer pressure you into letting yourself be possessed? yea..

- it’s not like ford was really in the right mindset to be making these huge decisions like the guy was crazy obsessed with bill

- he didn’t see the harm in it, bill was his muse after all and it was very valuable for his research! just do it!

- so you would, you still have a few scars on your thighs from bill’s obsession with pointy sharp things

- sometimes bill would prank you while being in ford’s body - not like you could tell the difference

- being all flirty while mimicking his voice and then yelling “JUST KIDDING!” before laughing obscenely in your face

- wow he loved humiliating you, it was almost as good as humiliating ford

- ALMOST

- they kept their plans pretty secret from you, only commanding asking you to get materials for the portal

- it’s kinda like that one meme that i see floating around;

you: what’s going on with the portal

bill/ford: don’t worry about it kitten

you: okay ❤️

you: yay ❤️

- they weren’t worried about you leaking anything, bill just liked keeping information from you to poke fun

- you were just in-flight entertainment, a plaything to bill, ford kept you as a means to keep himself grounded

nsfw

- you never really got intimate with ford, not like you didn’t want to but he was always so busy and it would technically be taboo considering he was your boss

- but he had to let off steam somehow, and his muse was here to help! consider the town SAVED ❤️

- with bill possessing him, “ford” would stuff his fingers down your throat and watch you gag

- i can’t even lie man if you vomited or something he’d probably get off to that more he’s a freak like that

- ford would gawk in horror as he watched himself bend you over onto his messy desk like a rag doll and rip the clothes off of your body

- bill doesn’t necessarily gain any sexual gratification from this, but he certainly “gets off” to it in some other twisted way

- he likes the control he has, your whining and ford’s gasps only egg him on further

- he likes to hold you down by your throat and make small cuts on your inner thighs while he sloppily eats you out, probably with anything that was lying around nearest to you, a pocket knife or even a unicorn horn

- SCRATCHES ohh my god this guy scratches so much somebody cut his nails

- fucking imbeds his damn fingers into your waist as he thrusts into you, all the while laughing like a madman

- the noise of squelching and muffled screams spilled from ford’s office, be glad your in the middle of the forest

- he 100% licks your tears away btw

- ford likes to act shocked or squeamish whenever bill does this to you but bill knows he loves it, and deep down inside he knows it too

- maybe not the “harming you” bit, but he loves everything else

- he’ll probably scold bill for being so rough with you but bill would probably lie and say “It was necessary! This is a whole NEW experience to me! You can’t deny me of that can you Sixer?”

- and then ford folds like a loser

- he’ll try and make it up to you by tending to your wounds and giving you a way lighter work load

- ford hopes that one day he’ll have enough confidence to be able to make love to you without his twisted muse butting in

- he kinda loves it bye

[clrasecretdiary]

Am I allowed to cry? pt. 1 | Spencer Reid x Reader

In which you're in love with Spence, but never told him.

angst! (but don't worry, part two will be fluff)

warnings: Some light swearing and that's it i think (??)

content: Mutual pining (although spencer's side isn't really shown in this part)

a/n: I've been writing this one for 2 weeks and even deleted it once, but finally got to it and finished this!! Hope you guys like it <3

You had joined the BAU only 2 years after Spencer, and you two quickly became friends and only grew closer with time. Now, 5 years after meeting, you two we’re best friends, joined at the hip. Spencer was the greatest friend you could have, understanding and loving. Maybe that’s why your stupid brain decided to complicate things, at some point you started to see Spencer in a different light. 

One day, when you were having the worst cramps ever during a case, Spencer went out of the precinct the team was at, when he came back he had bought you chocolates and heating pads to help with the pain. You felt like you could cry, and after he gave you one of his beautiful smiles, you realized. 

Oh fuck… I'm in love with Spencer Reid.

That day, you also swore you would never tell him, there’s no way he felt the same, and you would not ruin the perfect friendship you both had. 

What you seemed to forget about was that, at some point, Spencer was going to get a date, a girlfriend or whatever, and you didn’t even stop to think how you would feel when that day arrived. 

Well... You don’t need to imagine it anymore, because it finally happened. The day before, Spencer had told you how he finally gathered the courage to ask a girl that he’d been on a few dates to be his girlfriend. Your heart sank when he delivered the news to you, though you did your best to seem enthusiastic for him. 

“Really, spence, that’s great. I'm super happy for you!” You told him, before quickly excusing yourself to the bathroom. 

You felt so dumb, you knew Spencer was not in love with you, you thought you had accepted that, so why the fuck are you feeling like the floor has been taken off your feet every time you think about him loving someone that isn’t you? God, you might be going crazy.  

You knew you wouldn't be able to keep your "omg I'm so happy for you!" facade for long. Your genius solution was to avoid him, only for some time, while you dealt with your feelings. 

You decided to talk with the only person that knew about your feelings besides you, Penelope.

You open the door to her office, “Pen, help me. I’m so stupid, my brain is broken or something” 

Penelope turns around on her chair, pulling another one for you to sit 

“Oh no honey, whatever it is you're not stupid, now, what’s happening?” 

“Spence has a date… God, I’m 27 years old, why the fuck do I care about this”  

“Ohh you’re in love, baby. Of course, you’re going to feel bad, that’s normal. Trust me, I’ve been there.” 

“Maybe… It doesn't matter anyway. I'm going to avoid him for this week, process all this shit and then everything will be back to normal” You force a smile, that was meant to pass a positivity you didn't even really feel, but it just made Penelope feel bad for you. 

“Maybe don’t do that. You know Spencer is going to notice, it’s best if you talk to him.” She says, repeating an advice she has lost count how many times she’s given you. Penelope has always been sure Spencer was into you, and always encouraged you to confess. Needless to say, you never heard her advice. 

“No, I can't. I would ruin our friendship, he would hate me. And, it would be so unfair of me, I mean… I only confess now that he has a chance with someone?” You take a deep breath, and get up from the chair  “Thanks for the chat pen, love you” You say, placing a kiss on her cheek and leaving her office. 

You really did appreciate her advice, but there’s no way you would confess to Spencer, not only would it seem petty, but you were deadly afraid to ruin your friendship… not that avoiding him was doing any good, but fuck that you’re not in the mood to be rational right now. 

You head to your desk, avoiding eye contact with Spencer and just focusing on your work when Hotch calls the team. You guys have a new case. 

“Great”  You mumble under your breath, even if being in the office would be hard to avoid Reid, having to be out on a case with him will make it impossible. That doesn't mean you're not going to try. "Im an adult and a professional, this shit should not get in the way of my work." You think to yourself as if it's a mantra to keep you focused. 

You enter the room, taking a seat between Emily and Rossi, as Hotch and Penelope brief the team you can see in your peripheral vision how Spencer's gaze shift to you, making avoiding it somehow more difficult. You're used to giving him small smiles, being beside him and always being in contact with each other somehow, he even would be fine with letting you hug him beside his germophobia, so you're sure he already noticed how distant you were being. 

"Alright, wheels up in 30, We'll get more details on the jet" 

— 

On the jet, hotch distributes the tasks, as always, he paired you up with Reid to do the geoprofiling. 

After a couple of hours, you and the team arrive at the precinct. As the rest of the team goes out to the field, you and Reid stay back doing the reading, and geoprofiling. You only speak to him when it's something regarding the case. Luckily, after a day, you guys finally makes the arrest, and soon you are back on the jet.

As soon as you arrive back to the BAU office, you just pass by Garcia's office to give her a quick goodbye and head to the elevator, ready to go home, and finally process your feelings - or better yet, force yourself to get over Spencer.

If this was under normal circumstances, you and Reid would be standing together in front of the elevator discussing which food you two would order as you watched some weird indie movie. The memory of those times brigs a sharp pain to your chest, how could you be so naive? Yes, you told yourself he was not interested, but deep down between all those moments you two shared you hoped one day he would see you as something more than just a friend. 

"Hey, is everything alright? You seemed off today" Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice when Spencer stood beside you, his voice pulling you off your thoughts. 

"I'm great spence, just have a headache"

"Are you sure? You know, lying to a profiler has a very small percentage of working" 

"I'm sure, don't worry… So, is it today?" You ask, as you two step in the elevator and press the button to the garage level

"Yeah, I'm really nervous." 

"That's normal, but it'll be fine, don't worry" The elevator gets to the floor your car is at, you hold the door open and turn to him "hey, be yourself ok? She'll be lucky to have you." You say, before shooting him a small smile and getting out the elevator. 

As you walk towards your car, a few tears start streaming down your face, you've known you love him for a long time, and you now realize that you might never know what could have been between you two. Maybe Garcia was right, but now it's too late to say anything. 

[willowrites]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞 ᥫ᭡ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. when words that matt said in regards to a possible relationship with you not only crushed your heart but also crushed your friendship.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. yes, can be seen here

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! rejection & heartache.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. this hurt to write but .. let me know if you’d like a part two !? if this has been done before credits to them but i personally haven’t read one. (sorry it took so mfk long)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 2k

at the moment you were facetiming matt — nothing out of the ordinary. you would always facetime, i mean he was your best friend after all. although slowly over the years he’s become more than that to you.

the way you slowly started to find out was when you’d catch yourself staring at him for a little longer than expected. you’ve found yourself thinking about him multiple times a day. every waking thought you had circled back to matt. your mind was consumed by him and his presence. it was never like this before which made you confused, to say the least.

you did a lot of thinking when this happened. at the beginning of your high school career you remembered feeling envious and jealous of the girls who took an interest in matt. you had manipulated yourself into thinking it was because you were intimidated that another girl would take your spot as his best friend but deep down it was different — it was more than that.

your brain was always matt matt matt.

sophomore year was when you started to figure things out. you’d admire the way he smiled and laughed. the way his eyebrows furrowed in the cutest way when he was focused on something like homework or a video game. how his hair looked and changed over the years. how good he looked in the clothing he wore.

you became engulfed in his interests. you found yourself listening to the neighborhood and you tried to play fortnite for the first time even though you hadn’t really had a urge to play video games.

you found him to be so selfless. the way he puts everyone’s needs before his own. the way he was ready to drop everything for you and to help you whenever you needed.

matt was just… matt. he was amazing.

by junior year you knew that your heart truly belonged to him. you couldn’t help the way you felt.

now during senior year, you’ve been hiding behind your feelings. you haven’t confessed to him, afraid of the outcome of the confession.

you had thought about it. maybe it was time and maybe — hopefully — things wouldn’t change, but as you were about to speak up matt beat you to it.

“did you know that a lot of people at school ask me if we’re like… together because we hang out with each other so much.” he looked up from his phone with an expression you couldn’t understand.

your heart dropped out of your chest. “oh… um really?” you raised your brows trying to act as natural as possible.

he nodded and you figured his expression was one of disbelief. “yeah! shits crazy right? like i really cannot imagine us together. that would just be weird.” he stated. you gulped at his response. that would just be weird. the words that he just uttered hit you like a freight train. the rejection you had felt. it was like your heart had been sliced in two.

all you could do in response was laugh nervously already feeling internal pain. “y-yeah.. i could — we could uh — we could never.” you agreed. you smiled but a sad smile. matt laughed and nodded his head looking back down to his phone.

you had zoned out thinking about the meaning of his words. God did they fucking pierce your heart. you had never felt this type of pain before. the pain of blunt rejection. you’d take physical pain over this any fucking day.

you felt your eyes start to water at the thought of what just happened. you spoke up before any tears could fall. “hey.. um i think i’m gonna go. i’m not feeling too well.” you said trying not to make eye contact with the screen.

he looked up frowning. “aw man, do you want me to come over?” your heart ached as you uttered the word no to him. you had never turned him down. his face dropped. “oh, um okay yeah just text me.”

you nodded. “i will.” you whispered, not loud enough to hear before clicking the red button. once you heard the sound of the call disconnecting your lip quivered and your eyes shut.

you broke down in tears. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. you started to clutch your chest and tried to calm down but nothing seemed to help. your heart ached and you didn’t know how to fix it. the only person who knew how to help you when your heart hurt was the one who did the hurting.

for days to come, you had been distant and matt noticed this instantly. he began to assume it was because of how you were feeling being sick but regardless you both would facetime every day — you guys haven’t since that night. you’d text each other about everything but this time things haven’t been flowing like they would.

over the course of a week, you’ve had a few messages between you two but all were dry and off-putting.

after that, you hadn’t responded to him for over two days. he then called you randomly on the following friday. you were at home just watching a show when your phone buzzed. your heart dropped to your ass. you felt your stomach turn and you immediately felt sick. you didn’t know if you should answer or not but before you could do anything the call ended.

you sighed in relief, not prepared to speak a word to him. you settled back into bed, mind clouded by predictions of how the conversation would have gone if you had picked up the phone. that was until you were interrupted by the door to your room opening and matt stepping inside.

“jesus. had to climb mountains to get a hold of you.” he grumbled closing the door behind him. your eyes scanned him and stayed stuck on him. the way his hair looked so soft and how that sweatshirt hugged him in just the right way. he looked amazing and you felt no doubt that you looked a mess. you then realized that he was actually in your room. you weren’t ready to see him again. you felt you were being dramatic but again, his words from the other day stung. “why haven’t you texted me?”

his question reminded you of the day you kept repeating in your head. reminded you of his words and what he said and how you felt and — it all washed over you again. your lip quivered and your eyes watered at his question.

his eyebrows furrowed and his own eyes scanned your face. he noticed something was wrong. “hey… what's wrong?” he was immediately at your side to console you but you couldn’t — you couldn’t handle being this close knowing it would only hurt you in the long run. you leaned away catching him off guard. “did i do something?”

you stayed quiet not saying a word; afraid your voice would betray you.

he winced at the way you couldn’t even keep eye contact with him. how you scooted back to refrain from touching him. it was like a full 180 in 5 days. “y/n..” he spoke with a tone of disbelief.

you clenched your jaw trying to gain control of yourself. you didn’t want to cry in front of him. that was the last thing you wanted to do but the more you thought about it, the more your eyes started to water.

matt spotted the way you gulped harshly and how teary-eyed you were. he started to grow bothered at the way you didn’t explain what was going on. “y/n what the fuck happened?” his voice was louder than you anticipated.

you winced in reaction to his statement before finally looking up at him. his eyes flitted back and forth between yours. you blinked trying to rid yourself of the tears that were blocking your vision. “i.. i don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you sniffed, your voice breaking down as you spoke.

he put his hands up in question. “what — why not? you tell me everything. we tell each other everything.”

you shook your head. “well this time i don’t want to!”

after your sentence, silence fell between you and matt. matt was annoyed because this had never happened before. you had never refused to tell him something was bothering you or refused to rant to you.

he took a deep breath through his nose. “you’ve been super fucking weird around me all week. you didn’t even go to school and… and we haven’t facetimed. we… for fucks sake y/n, we would be on facetime 24/7 regardless of what the fuck we’re doing so why is it that you’ve made excuses upon excuses to refuse? i don’t get it. everything was fine until —” matt’s rant faltered. his eyes were no longer focused on you but focused on the thoughts running across his mind. “until the facetime.”

you swallowed, beginning to notice your eyes welling up. you knew he was thinking about the conversation you both had that night. your bottom lip shook before you spoke up. “you don’t know how much you mean to me matt.” your throat closed up. “i love you but…”

the decision you were about to make was going to hurt the both of you, you just knew it. if you didn’t make it though — you would be the one hurting in the long run.

the more matt thought about the conversation you had the more everything made sense. how after what he said you immediately had to go, saying you felt sick. it’s because of his words. it’s because of him.

he was in utter shock allowing you to continue to speak. “but i don’t think we can be friends anymore.” that sentence was something that matt never thought in a million years would come out of your mouth, especially about you both.

he shook his head. “no. no… what? what are you even saying right now y/n?” he stood up from your bed.

tears began to escape your eyes. “i’m.. i’m sorry matt. i just can’t — i can’t do this. i can’t pretend that i'm not in love — ” you stopped yourself, not wanting to say the root of the problem out loud.

you felt guilty because part of you felt like you were the problem but then again — how could you help it? your feelings are your feelings and you can’t help how you feel; nor can you change it.

matt stopped in his tracks. hearing it out loud was something different. “y/n…” he tilted his head to the side, his own bottom lip quivering. matt was never the type to cry easily but when it came to you — it was different. “y/n please..” he begged. he didn’t know what else to say. in the moment, he couldn’t process what your words truly meant. all that was going through your head was that he was losing you.

you moved your eyes to the floor not wanting to witness matt’s tears fall. “i’m sorry.” your shoulders shook. “i’m sorry i’m sorry im sorry.” you apologized. your eyes were closed when you felt his hands placed on your knees. you opened them to see matt on his own knees.

you looked at his face, how red his eyes were. his tear-stained cheeks and red lips from biting them nervously. what have i done? you thought. why did i have to hurt him like this?

“don’t… don’t leave me, please.” he pleaded quietly. “you’re my best friend y/n. i can’t lose you.”

silent tears rolled down your cheeks as you choked up. “i don’t want to hurt you but if i don’t do this…” you wiped your tears refusing to finish your sentence. “i’m sorry i can’t. please… please just go.”

matt didn’t know what else to say. what could he say? all he knew was the last thing he wanted to happen was for you to be unhappy. so he stood up, wiped his tears and sniffled, combed a hand through his hair, and walked out.

© willowrites

[qiu-yan]

all of the above are plot elements i've seen be called "plot holes" in various MDZS forums and discussions.

please explain your reasoning in the notes!!!!

explanations / possible fillings for plot holes:

qin su and abortions: one major reason why jin guangyao did not call off his marriage to qin su even after finding out that they were actually half-siblings is that qin su was already pregnant by that point, as the two had had premarital sex. it seems like this problem could be fixed, though, if jin guangyao caused qin su to miscarry somehow (eg. by sneaking abortifacients into her tea).

potential explanations:

abortifacients don't work on cultivators

jin guangyao wanted to respect qin su's bodily autonomy and did not want to cause her pain by causing her to miscarry, but he also could not think of an argument that would convince qin su to willingly get an abortion.

even if the pregnancy disappeared, it was still too late for jin guangyao to call off the marriage.

wen ning agreeing to help with the golden core transfer: at the time of the golden core transfer, wen ning already cares a great deal for wei wuxian - i mean, he betrayed his entire sect by smuggling jiang cheng out of the occupied lotus pier just because wei wuxian, who was nice to him once about his archery, asked him to. meanwhile, wen ning must have known what was actually going on once wei wuxian decided to transfer his golden core to jiang cheng, given that wen ning helped wen qing with the procedure. now, to me, it seems that if you care about someone, you should not allow them to literally give essential parts of themselves away and should instead try to prevent them from acting so self-destructively. to me, it seems that if wen ning really did care about wei wuxian, then he should have stopped wei wuxian from setting himself on fire to keep someone else warm.

possible explanations:

to wen ning, [helping someone do something they're determined to do, even if said thing is self-destructive] is a bigger demonstration of love and care than [imposing your own will over theirs by stopping them from self-destructing].

wei wuxian threatened to kill himself if wen ning and wen qing didn't help him with the golden core transfer.

wen ning legitimately thought that wei wuxian would be fine without his golden core and/or underestimated the negative consequences for wei wuxian, and thus did not perceive this as a self-harming act.

wen ning cared more about getting wei wuxian's approval and keeping wei wuxian happy than he cared about wei wuxian's physical and mental wellbeing.

once wen qing and wei wuxian committed to the golden core transfer, wen ning did not have the courage to speak up against them and/or saw that disagreeing would be useless.

wen ning also wanted to know if his sister's theory would work.

wei wuxian and lying about wen zhuliu getting him: one of the major factors straining jiang cheng and wei wuxian's relationship post-sunshot is that wei wuxian is no longer able to perform many of the second-in-command duties he had promised jiang cheng he would do, but he cannot tell jiang cheng why (ie. because he no longer has a golden core) because he does not want jiang cheng to find out that wei wuxian gave jiang cheng his own golden core. however, it seems like wei wuxian could get around this by telling jiang cheng that wen zhuliu also got wei wuxian later, which is both highly plausible and would explain why wei wuxian doesn't have a golden core anymore without suggesting any sort of transfer.

potential explanations:

wei wuxian didn't want jiang cheng to know at all that he didn't have a golden core anymore.

wei wuxian worried that any hint of "wei wuxian doesn't have a golden core anymore" would eventually lead to jiang cheng figuring out the truth about the golden core transfer.

wei wuxian doesn't want jiang cheng to feel guilty about "stealing" wei wuxian's "chance to meet baoshan sanren and get his core restored."

wei wuxian doesn't want to think about the fact that he no longer has a golden core at all.

wei wuxian didn't think of this. (plausible given wei wuxian's personality)

wen remnants not changing their names and going into hiding: after wei wuxian busts the wen remnants out of the qiongqi pass labor camp, he sets up shop in the yiling burial mounds with himself as their protector; this way, neither the jin nor anyone else can try to harm the wen remnants, because they'd have to go through wei wuxian first. however, what this decision also entails is that all of the wen remnants are now highly associated with wei wuxian; thus, once wei wuxian's reputation goes south enough, all the wen remnants under his protection get dragged down and killed with him. it seems that some of the less high-profile wen remnants (ie. the ones who are not wen ning or wen qing) could have avoided this had they changed their names and gone into hiding, preferably somewhere far away from this part of the jianghu, instead of all sticking together in the highly-visible burial mounds. even if lanling jin and the other sects have a high amount of influence in the local area, there's still an entire world out there; they could have tried fleeing to a different country. even if this option is not possible, at the very least, it should have been discussed and shot down (with an explanation) in the story.

possible explanations:

the burial mounds were under constant surveillance, so there was no chance for the wen remnants to escape without getting caught and killed.

lanling jin's influence is so far-reaching and powerful that there was no way the wen remnants could have fled far enough to go into hiding without getting caught first.

the wen remnants wanted to keep their family name and stick together with their family members.

the option was discussed and dismissed as implausible entirely offscreen.

jiang cheng not hunting down xue yang: the story's narration states that jiang cheng is widely believed to have consistently hunted down, tortured, and killed countless demonic cultivators, specifically because he believes they could be wei wuxian resurrected. meanwhile, xue yang is fairly well known due to his incredibly public massacre of the chang sect and then baixue temple and subsequent employment by lanling jin. furthermore, after xue yang was removed from jinlintai, xue yang set up shop in yi city, where he very openly killed a bunch of people and turned them into fierce corpses; in fact, one could consider the ghost-town status of yi city at the story's start to be due in no small part to xue yang's actions. however, despite xue yang being a very well-known demonic cultivator who has continued to openly demonically-cultivate, nothing in the text suggests that jiang cheng ever tried to hunt down xue yang. this seems to present a contradiction with the rumors about jiang cheng hunting down demonic cultivators.

possible explanations:

jiang cheng already knows that xue yang was not wei wuxian, so he doesn't care about xue yang.

jiang cheng fully believes that jin guangyao successfully killed xue yang upon becoming sect leader jin, and yi city is remote enough that no mention of xue yang's activities has ever reached jiang cheng.

jiang cheng got his ass kicked by xue yang entirely offscreen and it just never came up in the story.

the rumors about jiang cheng hunting down and killing demonic cultivators are not entirely correct.

lan wangji freely ditching lan xichen at the end of the story: the story ends with lan xichen basically getting put into the blender. first he finds out that his bestie jin guangyao actually orchestrated the death of nie mingjue and super lied about it, and then he's tricked by nie huaisang into stabbing jin guangyao. he's not doing too great. yet, at the end of the guanyin temple scene, instead of checking on his brother or even offering a single "are you okay?", lan wangji immediately fucks off into the sunset with wei wuxian. given that lan xichen was relatively supportive of lan wangji during lan wangji's 13 years of mourning, to many on this website, this reads as a failure of familial duties that lan wangji goes entirely uncriticized for by the narrative.

possible explanations:

it was an intentional writing decision and not a plot hole. MXTX thinks that, because lan xichen failed to see through jin guangyao's lies, lan xichen therefore deserves to suffer, so lan wangji is morally justified in ding dong ditching him.

lan wangji did screw up here, but it's an internally-consistent writing decision, not a plot hole. lan wangji is meant to read as a younger brother character who is more used to being taken care of than taking care of others.

no lube: at the end of the story, wei wuxian and lan wangji fuck nasty in some bushes. without any lube. the lack of some sort of lubricant, at least, doesn't seem to cause any problems with the anal sex itself.

possible explanations:

cultivator's asses are self-lubricating, or at the very least repair damage at an incredibly high speed.

the sex actually is quite painful, but wei wuxian was a virgin up until now so he just thinks this is normal.

the sex actually is quite painful, but wei wuxian is into it.

there was lube op just forgot (plausible because i only skimmed that section)

almost every sect leader unmarried: in this sort of setting, where blood and not ability determines inheritance, it seems like producing heirs and thus securing the future of the sect/clan should be of the highest importance. however, nie mingjue, lan xichen, jiang cheng, and later nie huaisang are all unmarried, and don't seem to have any heirs either. this goes doubly for the nie sect, who know themselves that they live shorter lives due to their cultivation style.

potential explanations:

cultivators live a really long time so it's not as pressing an issue.

there are wives and heirs, they are just offscreen.

gonna be real boss i got nothing else