#I'm mad and upset and wanna throw up

[spicywreck]

iwtv is fun and great because it's FICTION. we all love these dramatic queens because they're FICTIONAL. they're monsters yet they're also victims, they commit atrocities and yet also great acts of love, they show apathy towards most humans yet they are also capable of compassion; when the mood strikes them.

we all know this. we all adore them because it's a FICTIONAL show and it's safe to analyze, idolize, criticize, hate and love these characters who have been brought to life by an amazing cast.

with that said, if you try to shift this shit into real life, spewing bullshit about abusers truly loving their victims (about MARIUS, of all people), get the fuck out of my face and block me immediately. also touch grass.

[tunacharm]

...

[sparklingchim]

lwh oc distracting jungkook while he’s working out or boxing 😋😗😉

word count: 1.1k

warnings: jelly n possessive koo 😋, spit !!, blowjob, titty fuck, dirty talk, boob-obsessed jk obv, cum play, cum eating, the initial necklace makes a comback !

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"20 minutes ago, you said you'd be done in five minutes."

Your huffed complaint barely reaches Jungkook's ears as he continues to throw punches at the heavy bag in front of him.

You're sitting cross-legged next to him, pulling at his shorts to pull his attention towards you.

"Just five more minutes, baby." He casts a quick glance at you before focusing on his training again.

"I'm boored."

Your fingers trail to his drawstrings. You pull at them without Jungkook noticing. His black Calvin's peek out and your inital idea to just annoy him morphs into something more impish.

Your fingertips slowly brush over the front of his joggers.

Jungkook’s little grunts from above come to a halt when he peers down at you, brows pulled together in confusion. He tilts his head to the side when you meet his gaze with a mischievous smile.

“Baby.” Jungkook’s chest rises with every heavy breath, his skin shimmering with sweat. “What are you doing?”

“Relax for a bit, Koo,” you say softly. Hand cupping him through the fabric. “This is only making you angrier.” Batting your eyelashes you ask, “What’s got you so mad, hm?”

“Nothin’,” he mumbles, eyes closed as you squeeze him.

You can’t shake the feeling that Jungkook is still holding onto some tension from last night’s Christmas gathering. While having dinner with friends and hitting up a bar, you couldn’t ignore Jungkook’s upset pout on his face, the lingering glances with his doe eyes and his subtly possessive hands always reaching for you.

And all that just because he was jealous of Taehyung. It’s been ages since you last saw Taehyung, your former high school boyfriend, and there was a lot to catch up on. Jungkook pretended it didn’t bother him, but his façade crumbled easily – just like now, with his tense jaw and clenched hands in white wraps, still staunchly denying any reason for his anger.

“I’m a much better distraction than punching a stupid bag, don’t you think?” You pull his joggers and briefs down in one motion and crawl on your knees in front of him. Your mouth closes around his tip and Jungkook shudders.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You sure no one will come here?” you ask, stroking his cock with your hand.

“It’s been closed for hours.” Jungkook gathers your hair in his fist. “I wouldn’t let anyone see you like this. But we can go to the office if you don’t feel comfortable here.”

“I’m fine,” you mutter around his cock. You take him deeper into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his hard dick. Your eyes sting with tears when his tip reaches the back of your throat. Jungkook curses, holding your head in that position.

“So cute,” he mutters. His thumb brushes over the little tear in the corner of your eye. He moves his hips back a little before he pushes his cock further down your throat again. “Damn, baby. Taking my cock so well.”

You heave for air once he’s all the way out, hands unconsciously squeezing his muscular thighs. Jungkook strokes his cock in leisurely movements. You dip your head and gently suck on his balls. His head falls back, plush mouth parted to utter soft moans.

You feel Jungkook tugging on your pullover. “Lemme see your tits,” he urges.

Your tongue sweeps from his balls across his cock till you give him a little kiss on the tip. A lovestruck smile settles on his face, growing even bigger when he sees your naked tits.

He bends forward to squeeze the supple flesh in his hands, rolling them around in his palms. His tongue pokes his cheek, a hungry look creeping into his eyes.

“Wanna fuck them,” he says.

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, raising a little on your knees.

Jungkook spits down on his cock, rubbing it all over himself. He teases your puckered nipples with his tip, pulling a couple whines from you. You let a droplet of spit trail down on the valley between your tits and he catches it with his cock, rubbing spreading the bit of lubrication on your skin.

You press your boobs against his cock. A shaky breath slips Jungkook’s mouth and moves his hips in needy motions.

“Fuck, I love fucking your tits,” he rasps. His eyes travel over the dainty necklace around your throat, a sparkly J moving along his thrusts. “All mine.” He cups your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb.

“You always want me, right? Always gonna be mine.”

“Uh-huh. Always.”

“Good girl.”

Your tummy tingles and you smile up at him.

Jungkook lubricates his cock with more saliva “Tits are so soft,” he whispers. “Gonna cum all over them.” His grunts turn louder as he gets closer to cumming.

He looks so pretty above you with his chiselled chest glistening, cheeks tinted in a rosy colour and his doe eyes looking down at you with lust and adoration.

“’m so close.” His hips stagger and you feel his cum shooting over your chest. Jungkook slows down, watching his cum paint over your boobs with drowsy eyes. “Fuck,” he moans, palming his cock and squeezing out the last bits.

“Feeling better now?” you ask, blinking up at him.

“So much better.” He runs the tip of his cock over his cum, smearing it across your tits. Gathering a bit of cum on his cock, he holds it in front of your mouth. You lick the cum off his tip and swallow it.

“Next time when we’re hanging out with Taehyung you don’t have to get jealous,” you tell Jungkook as you stand up.

His gaze is fixed on your cum-covered boobs before he casts his eyes up, an offended frown contorting his face.

“I wasn’t jealous!”

“No?” You raise your brows. “Your hands just naturally were all over me when I talked to Tae?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.”

You giggle. “Stop being silly.” You throw your arms around his neck, standing on your tip toes. “You’re the only one I want,” you whisper and give him a soft kiss.

“I know.” Jungkook’s fingers skim over your back. “Just need to hear it more often.” He plants another sweet kiss on your lips.

Jungkook’s phone starts ringing.

“Time to pick up Nabi!” you exclaim, eyes sparkling.

Jungkook grins, pulling up his sweatpants and briefs.

“Lemme get some tissues for you first.”

“You think Nabi was a bit mean to Namjoon again?” you ask.

“Oh, she loves annoying him.”

[cg-sunnyd]

💥rip 'em up.📒

∘₊✧ ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ ∘₊✧

"you're awfully quiet today, love," your caregiver says softly as they come into the living room. you'd finished up with your classwork for the day and had settled on the couch, flicking through tv shows with little interest.

you shrug without any other response, not particularly in the mood to chat. there's a tense bubble in your stomach and part of you knows that if you say anything, it'll be mean for no good reason. you can feel your caregiver's eyes on you, and you scowl slightly.

"i'm just watching tv," you say, despite the fact that you've yet to choose anything in the last twenty minutes, "you don't have to stare at me." your words are snappier than you meant and immediately you regret them when your caregiver hums and turns away without saying anything else.

now you're angry at yourself, too. that wasn't fair, wasn't nice. but you're never nice, you think to yourself, you're just really good at acting like it. really, you're just-

your internal spiral is paused by the return of your caregiver, hefting a cardboard box. they don't look upset, but your stomach twists anyway. before you can fumble out an apology you hope sounds genuine, they wave you over. the box is full of notebooks- you recognize some of them as notebooks from previous classes, from high school. they're all half-used, with too much unused paper to want to throw away.

you give a look to your caregiver who pulls out a notebook and hands it to you.

"...i don't wanna write. don't wanna draw or scribble either," you say with a frown, knowing that you've done those things in the past. the idea of accidentally breaking a crayon right now makes your stomach twist again.

"then you don't have to," they say simply, settling onto the floor across from you, the box between you both. "but we've both been wanting to tear out the used papers from these notebooks, right?" you watch silently as they take a notebook and star tearing out the pages, delicately. one by one. you stare down at the one in your hand and frown.

you open the cover and tear out one page. and then the next. and then another, and another, and-

soon enough, you're just ripping pages out. your caregiver simply passes you a new notebook when you've torn out all the used paper, not stopping you from the frenzied pace. some of the notebooks end up more torn up than others, spirals mangled and the covers ripped up too.

your face is hot and angry tears sting your eyes, but your caregiver doesn't tell you to calm down or take a big breath. they let you rip and tear, paper shreds scattering the floor. you've gone through several notebooks before the pace slows and you hiccup. you rub your eyes angrily, your cheeks damp. it just makes you mad again and you toss the notebook away, flopping back onto the hard living room floor.

"s'not fair!" you shout, mostly up at the ceiling. you flail your arm at the pile of torn up paper around you, kick the box at your feet. there's a quiet shuffle as your caregiver scoots back a bit, just enough to give you a bit more space. you tug your hood down and shout into it, the fabric not exactly muffling the sound. it's just an explosion of words, of every little thing and every big thing.

by the time you go limp on the floor, your head hurts, your throat hurts, and your sleeve is damp with tears and snot.

"...you want a hug or do you want some more time, love?" comes the careful, soft voice of your caregiver. they'd sat there the whole time, just letting you rip and tear, kick and flail, get it all out. when you sniffle and nod, they move over, taking your head into their lap. "that was a lot, huh? you had that in you for a while, little love."

you sniffle again and nod, hiding your face in their shirt. you don't want to look up at them, and they don't make you. they just gently rub soothing circles into your back. they don't ask you to get up, even though the floor really isn't the most comfortable place. they don't keep talking either, just letting the room settle into a silence that's far less heavy than before.

"...nhm." you just grip their shirt tighter. maybe later you can talk about it - maybe while cleaning up all that torn paper. maybe you won't, and it'll happen all over again. but there's a bit of relief loosening that bubble in your stomach- it's not gone, not by any stretch of the imagination. but it's a bit looser, a bit less heavy.

and for today, that's enough.

[lcriedlastnight]

hi bby, could i request either reader comforting oscar or oscar comforting reader?

of course i can, anon! <3

tw: fem!reader, idk i was gonna go with oscar but i forgot and went with reader instead, mc****n, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 658

you were fuming. what the fuck had you just watched? you still had your papaya protective headphones on. you felt like throwing them on the floor in a fit of rage. this was a fucking joke. what kind of team fucks up a one- two?

you watch oscar on the podium with the rest of the mclaren team, you watch as the celebrate with champagne. you can sense the tension between oscar and lando a mile away. if mclaren had fucked up their friendship because of this stupid strategy you knew that they would be getting a few stern words from you.

oscar retreats to his drivers room after his interviews which is not like him at all, he is usually straight in his drivers room, either after a podium of just after he is finished racing no matter what has happened in the race and where he finishes. he knew when he did not appear after the podium that something was wrong and you were worried.

you wait for him in his room, sitting anxiously on the couch. you pick at the skin around your nails as you wait, a nervous habit you have had ever since you can remember. you are so into it you do not even hear the door opening and closing.

"thought i told you to stop doing that?" oscar comments with a half smile, trophy in hand. your heart falls through your stomach at your view. he looks amazing, he looks so so pretty and the trophy in his hands is the bow tying it together. your eyes follow him as he sets it down safely as opens his arms towards you.

you practically run into his waiting arms. you do not care that he is much too sweaty and stinks. you do not care that he is sticky from the champagne and you certainly do not care that you are sobbing your heart out into his chest. right into the sweaty and sticky fireproofs.

"sweetheart, are you crying?" oscar asks, you can hear hints of concern in his voice but it is mostly uncertainty. he knew you were crying but he did not know if you were actually upset or not. he gets a muffled sob in response as you try to hide in his chest.

"hey, what's wrong, c'mon. talk to me." oscar coos. it makes you feel even worse because why are you crying when he is the one that has had the shittest day ever, even though he has just won his very first f1 race.

"you won. they fucked up your win." you cry to him like it had happened to you. "now you and lando will be mad at each other and-" oscar cuts you off before you can say anymore.

"listen to me sweetheart. me and lando are fine. this is only my second season i'll have plenty more. this is nothing to be upset over."

you sniffle at his words and pull your head up to rest your chin on his chest. "but it's your first and it will always be overshadowed by their stupid strategy." you pout at him. you really do think he should be more upset about this but that was your dynamic. oscar did not let things like this get to him, while you let it eat you up inside until it breaks you apart.

"it's okay. i still fought for it. and anyway, you shouldn't be upset about it. i'm not. so let's just celebrate this win, huh? you wanna celebrate with me?" oscar tries, knowing you could never say no to him, no matter how upset you were.

you nod against him and he grins down at you. "good. we're going out to dinner and lando's coming with." this settles your nerves a bit as oscar pulls you close again.

it feels like everything will be alright as soon as you are wrapped up in your boyfriends arms.

[mrsshabana]

Hey Mrs.Shabana I just wanna say I really love your work and it’s always been a delight to read. What I would like to request a part two of NTR because not only was it hot but the possible drama afterwards makes me excited and I wish to know what happens next! You don’t have to do it though take your time with everything

𝐍𝐓𝐑 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary After cheating on your boyfriend, Tengen, it's not long before you face the consequences of your actions. But things take an unexpected turn, and Gyutaro couldn't be happier with the results. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, college au, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, netorare, cheating. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.4k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Part one

"Aw man, do you have to wipe it off? You look so pretty covered in my cum..." Gyutaro pouts as he hands you a paper towel.

"Yes!" You say, trying to avoid letting it drip into your mouth, "Tengen will be here any minute to pick me up."

Gyutaro rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as he watches you clean up the beautiful mess he made of you.

"Heh yeah, I'm lookin' forward to that," he smirks, imagining the look on Tengen's face when he received the photo he sent of you just moments ago.

Begrudgingly, Gyutaro helps you clean up. Taking the soiled paper towels and throwing them in the garbage bin.

"How do I look?" you smooth out your hair and try to look presentable.

Gyutaro narrows his eyes and looks you up and down, "Looks fine to me," he says as he can obviously see a bit of dried cum leftover in your hair - but purposefully decides not to say anything.

"Ok, thanks," you reapply your lipgloss and straighten out your clothes, "Hopefully he won't notice..."

Just as you begin to feel the guilt seep in, the doorknob jiggles, and Tengen barges into the room.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" He shouts and comes barreling towards you.

Never have you seen your boyfriend so angry, especially targeted towards you. You instinctually go to Gyutaro's side, grabbing his arm and staying close to him.

"What the hell has gotten into you?!" you wail, genuinely afraid and confused. Though Gyutaro is shockingly calm and collected, an arrogant aura emanates from him as he grabs his vape out of his pocket.

"Are you fucking serious? You slept with my roommate!!" Your boyfriend clenches his fists in anger.

"Technically she didn't sleep with me, she just sucked me off," Gyutaro says nonchalantly.

Tengen narrows his eyes at his roommate, filled with fury. But honestly, he's not even mad at Gyutaro, he already knows he's a scumbag. So he isn't surprised he'd do something like this, he's more upset with you.

"Shut up incel, adults are talking," Tengen snaps back, "How could you do this, Y/N? I should've known you were a good-for-nothing whore."

"But I-I..." you whimper as your eyes begin to water, shame taking over you. Maybe you really are just a whore. Tengen may stand you up a lot, but that doesn't mean he deserved to be cheated on.

"Tsk," Gyutaro scoffs and takes a drag of his vape, "You're one to talk."

"Shut it! You're just a pathetic virgin, you don't know shit."

"Oh really? Then maybe I should tell Y/N about Hinatsuru. Or maybe Makio or Suma?" Gyutaro smirks as he watches Tengen go pale, "But what do I know? I'm just a pathetic incel, right?"

"You fucking prick..." Tengen curses under his breath.

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. Those were the girls that Tengen told you not to worry about, claiming that they were just childhood friends. You gave him the benefit of the doubt because you didn't have a reason not to. But now you feel like a complete and utter fool.

A part of you is fuming with anger but the other part feels relieved that now you're off the hook.

"Whatever," Tengen puts his hands up defensively, "You can have my sloppy seconds."

His words hurt, but honestly, you can't even bring yourself to care. As you watch Tengen leave and slam the door behind him, it's safe to say that your relationship is over.

But why is it that you don't even feel that sad about it? Maybe because a part of you figured he was already cheating. He was never around anyway so the fact that you're officially broken up doesn't change much. If anything you're just really happy that you don't have to feel bad about giving Gyutaro a blowjob anymore.

"We should fuck on his bed." Gyutaro breaks the silence with the most out-of-pocket, unhinged sentence. Though you can't say you're surprised he'd say such a thing in a moment like this.

"A-Are you serious?"

"Hell yeah," he takes another drag of his vape, "He said I could have you now so why hold back?"

You can't help but blush at his bluntness - this was one of the reasons why you crushed on Gyutaro in the first place. He's never afraid to say what's on his mind despite how strange or inappropriate it is.

"Haha, sure Gyutaro," you chuckle, "Let's do that."

With a big mischievous grin, Gyutaro takes your hand and leads you to his roommate's bedroom. Promtly pushing you onto the bed and hurriedly taking off his shirt.

"You're still wet from earlier, right?" he says as he slides off his pants, all too eager for round two.

"Y-yeah," you say shyly. He's right, you did get really wet when you gave him a blowjob - your panties are already soaked.

"Well hurry up, take that shit off," he gets impatient, his cock twitching as he glares down at you.

"He's one demanding virgin..." you think to yourself as you hurriedly take off your clothes. Honestly, you're surprised Gyutaro is already hard again after he just came. But he is a virgin after all so it makes sense.

Once your clothes have been fully removed, Gyutaro spreads your legs and crawls on top of you. "About fucking time, you know how many times I've jerked off while thinking about this?"

Your entire face goes red in embarrassment. His words aren't romantic in the slightest but his honesty is sexier than dirty talk could ever be.

You watch in horror as he's about to slide into you, "Wait!! Put a condom on first!"

Gyutaro rolls his eyes and shoves himself into you anyway, "Hell no, I wanna claim you in ways Tengen never could." He groans as he pushes his hips flush against you.

Your eyes roll back in ecstasy as you feel him fill you completely. After being wet for so long without any stimulation, it feels heavenly to finally have him inside of you.

"Ah f-fine," you moan, "But you have to pull out! I-I'm not on birth control."

"Fuck I'd love to get you pregnant so then you'd really be stuck with me," he murmurs, "But fine, I'll pull out if that's what you want."

You hope he'll keep his word, but honestly right now it feels too good to care. Gyutaro begins bucking his hips wildly, thrusting in and out of you with sloppy thrusts.

"You're my girl now, got it?" he says between gasps.

"Uh huh," you moan, "M'your girl now, Gyu."

"Fuck... good girl, Y/N" he picks up the pace - the sound of skin slapping fills the room. And your combined fluids splash where the two of you are connected, creating a nice messy pool on your ex-boyfriend's bed sheets.

Gyutaro doesn't quite know enough about sex yet to make you orgasm, but he's doing a decent enough job at fucking you that you already feel close. So you use your right hand to rub tight circles into your clit, while your other hand holds onto his shoulder for support.

"I fuck you better than he did, don't I?" Gyutaro growls, getting closer to his peak.

"Y-yeah, so much better," you moan, "B-Bigger too."

His lips curl into an arrogant smirk, he grabs your hips tightly and shakily pounds into you as hard as he can. So pussy drunk that he barely pulls out in time.

His cock twitching in the air as his nails dig into your hips, "Th-this'll show him! You're my girl now!" he whimpers as his semen splatters all over your abdomen and all over Tengen's sheets.

Watching the white sticky fluid stain the cloth does something to you and you feel your legs tremble as you reach orgasm. Moaning and arching your back, wishing that he was still inside of you.

"Fuck... he's an idiot for ever cheating on you. You're the perfect girl," Gyutaro rasps, leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss.

As you lay there, a panting and sweaty mess, Gyutaro grabs some tissues and cleans you up. Then he haphazardly smears his semen on the bed sheets. Watching as it soaks into the fabric. Knowing that when Tengen gets into bed tonight he'll have a little surprise waiting for him.

[poem-i-wish-i-wrote]

heyy, what's up? I wanted to request some angst to fluff with charles where the reader and him have a big fight and the reader decides to go to a hotel and he finds her and apologizes and they go back to their house and spend a lot of time together. if there's anything you would like to change feel free to do so ☺️ love your writing btw 🩷

Heyy Anon. Thank you so much for the request. I tried my best to do it justice. i really hope you like it. And i'm sooo delighted to hear you like my writing. You have no idea how much that means to me. enjoy!

Also requests are open

Standing at the door like a ghost shaking from the rain

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader Warning: angst, lots of angst, Charles being dismissive and avoidant, mention of anxiety.

It’s been a horrible week for you at work. You felt so frustrated. You wish you could have talked to someone, but it feels like no ones ever around when it's you who needs some support.

Not even your boyfriend. It always seems like when you were having a bad week, Charles was having a worse one. And you end up not seeking comfort in him, because you don’t wanna be a burden. You don’t wanna add to his problems or concerns.

 Last week was the Austrian GP week, where Charles had a god awful result. He was very upset and stressed about it. You tried to comfort him as much as you could. But his quiet resentment hanged in the air like a ticking bomb. It just made you more anxious, it just made the week feel worse. And he was busy this whole week trying to improve his performance, always in training, always in meetings. You didn’t hold it against him. He needed to improve, he needed to work, you know that. 

But you hated how he acted when he came home. Avoiding talking to you, dismissing you when you tried to ask if he was okay and if he wanted to talk about it. Demeaning you with his actions. He would always be yelling at the phone. Acting bit aggressive while doing things. It was all putting you on edge.  But you said nothing. He was having a hard time, you couldn’t blame him right?

You were at one of Charles' friend's parties. Charles merely paid you any attention the whole evening. You didn’t know any of these people, and Charles didn’t introduce you to anyone unless someone asked about you. You felt very uncomfortable. It was an especially awful day. You almost decided not to come to the party today. You were home lying on your bed thinking how you will tell Charles you wanted to stay home tonight. But Charles barged into the room and asked “Why aren’t you getting ready? Fuck Y/n we can’t be late.” Somehow that expression of his made you not want you to engage in a conversation with him. 

So here you were standing uncomfortably, as your boyfriend was laughing with his friends and their spouses, completely ignoring you. You could feel yourself shaking a bit. You were anxious. Everything about his body language was making you feel worse.

By the time you got back home, the pent up emotions of the whole week got to you. You were throwing your jewelries on the dressing table. Slamming washroom and closet doors. You didn’t even look at Charles as you changed, freshened up and got ready to call it a night. Charles could sense you were mad. 

You were getting yourself a glass of water, aggressively putting down the jug when Charles walked into the kitchen. “Why are you so pissed off?”

“I’m not.” “Yes, you are. You're acting ridiculous,” You close your eyes trying not to pounce at the man in front of you in anger. “It’s nothing.”

“Why are you acting this way? You barely talked to my friends all night. You weren’t even willing to get ready for the party. That’s so insensitive of you!”

“Oh wow” you express with raised eyebrows. “I was being insensitive? What about you? How am I supposed to talk to your friends if you don’t even introduce me? You’ve been acting like an asshole all week. I’m trying to be there for you regardless, and you call me insensitive.”

“What do you mean I was being an asshole? You know I have had a hard week, if you can’t accept a little change in my mood, then how is this supposed to work between us?” “Please Charles, you know I can handle your change in moods, but you took it too far. You pay me no attention. You keep pushing me away. What am I supposed to do?” “Well if you supported me and my work then you would have found a way to be there for me”  That struck a nerve, and suddenly you were yelling everything you have been trying so hard to repress all week.

“Oh I don’t support your work?! You know what, Charles?? You're not the only one with a career. Other people have bad days too.  I don’t support you? I’ve been trying to comfort you all week. What have you done? Have you paid me any attention? Did you even notice how hard I’ve been struggling? My project fell through this morning. I’ve been having absolute shit time at work, but you don’t see me treating you with a bad attitude because of that” You yell. You were visibly shaking now. This was all getting too much.

“How am I supposed to know what goes on in your office?” he yells back. “It’s not about knowing. It’s about being there for each other! And you are never around for me anymore. I feel more alone when I’m with you.” “You are being fucking ridiculous. You can’t just put that all on me.” Charles states. You press your hands on your eyes in frustration.

“You know what. Yeah , I’m being ridiculous. And you have a race next week. Maybe I should just leave you to concentrate on your career. I can't stay here anymore." You say before leaving the kitchen and getting your purse and phone from your room.

“Y/n?! Y/n! Where are you going?” Charles follows you. You don’t say a word, you just put on your shoes and slam the door behind you. You get into your car and drive off, leaving Charles standing alone in your living room, thinking about how he just fucked up.

You were at a hotel now. It’s been 2 hours since you left the house. It was raining heavily outside. You were crying under the covers. Everything was crumbling, your career, your relationship. You felt so damn alone. You could feel your anxiety get worse by the minute. 

Suddenly you heard a knock on your hotel room door. A desperate knock. You just lay there hearing the sound. You couldn’t find the energy to get up. The knock continued. You finally got up and opened the door to find a very drenched Charles Leclerc in front of you. 

“What the fuck Charles? What Are you doing here?” You say. He was shaking from the cold. His hair all messed up, his damp hair on his face. He could see you were clearly “Y/n I’m so sorry. Please, please come back home.” He said, stepping closer to you. You backed away which broke his heart. “Y/n I’m so so sorry. You were right, I was an asshole. I was so caught up in myself, I didn't see what I was doing. I didn’t mean to ignore you. I’m so sorry I didn’t see how much my actions were affecting you. Sorry I didn’t see your struggles. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” At this point there were tears in your eyes again. You try to turn away but he grabs hold of your hand. 

“I’m so sorry Mon Cheri. I’m so sorry I hurt you this bad. Please come home to me. I’m never gonna do this again. Please give me one more chance to be there for you. I’ll never let you feel lonely ever again.” He pulled you close to his forehead resting against yours. You were fully crying. It seemed like he was going to cry too. “Please Y/n, please.” he whispered. You shouldn’t forgive him so easily. But You felt so awful right now, so weak. Your wrapped hands around him and buried your face in his chest. Not caring that he was fully damped from the rain. You were sobbing into his chest. He leaned into your shoulders whispering sorry into your skin as he held you tight against him. 

When you stopped crying he wiped away your tears and kissed you sweetly. “Let’s go back home, love.” He gathered your things for you before driving you home. Holding your hand the whole drive.

Back at home, he led you to the bed, holding you close to his chest as you two cuddled into each other. He kept saying sorry. And you just hold on to him tightly.

“Tell me what’s been bothering you at work,” he said while kissing your hair. “It’s nothing," you say. He lifts your face up towards him by your chin. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide from me. Tell me, I want to know.” You give him a sad smile at that.

You two lay there talking late in the night. You tell him about the difficulties you were facing, the project that fell through and how worried you were about that. He held you tightly while playing with your hair, listening to your every word and comforting you through the night until you fell asleep.

When he realized you were fully unconscious, He pressed his lips on your temple whispering, “I'm never going to let you feel lonely ever again.”

[a018233]

your blog has like.. no rules so I don't know if I'm branching on smth wrong but uhhh,, do u think ubcould elaborate on nsfw w ithauqa on ur rent-a-gf/bf au... 👁👁

ೀ. summary: Ithaqua is trying to talk you out of the rent-a-girlfriend/boyfriend service once again. So you help take his mind off it for a while.

ೀ. content: handjobs, making out, jealousy, commitment issues, gn reader. reader is kinda a bitch in this one. Ithaqua is mad/upset. He says he hates you but doesn't mean it.

ೀ. a/n: kinda weird this came out before his general headcannons. I don't know anything about ithaqua so.. If anyone has suggestions how to write for ithaqua personality wise uhh comment cause I have three related rqs for him.

As you unbutton his jeans he can't help but sigh. Looking away with a look of jealousy. His envy boils uncomfortably in his stomach and it hangs heavy on his heart. You two aren't an item and yet, he still can't help but feel slightly cheated on.

"Giving me a handjob isn't gonna change my mind, you deserve better. You can always just.. " Ithaqua says, his eyebrows knit together.

"I really don't." You hum as you interrupt him, not even looking at him as you pull his pants and boxers down.

Ithaqua swallows thickly, feeling the cold air hit his tip. Making him hiss. He opened his mouth to say something, but only a small groan comes out as you began to move your hand up and down his length.

"F-Fuck, I mean it. You can live with me and I'll-- shit!!" He curses, using his hand to over his mouth.

Meanwhile, you gave a soft and slow lick along his shaft, all the way up to his tip. Ithaqua was breathing heavily, trying to silence his noises. His mind becoming more hazy the more you messed with him.

"Agh!! Fucking hell! I don't-.. I don't.. understand you.." He hissed, throwing his head back. His legs twitching.

"I don't expect you to." You reply back. Pressing another teasing lick.

"Mhhg.. I hate you.." He winces softly, the lie falling from his lips. Looking down at you as precum begins to form on his tip. You waste no time swirling your tongue around his tip, tasting his essence before engulfing him whole.

Ithaqua let's out breathy moans, mixed of your name and curses. His hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing against youe cheek affectionately while you effortlessly bobbed your head up and down his shaft.

The jealousy dies down, but it still boils uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach like an kettle that's about to explode. He feels good right now, and yet his heart feels heavy.

Ithaqua isn't stupid. He knows he's not the only one. He doesn't wanna know who else you do this with. But when you look up at him through your pretty lashes, the resentment and jealousy that bulit up fades away as a more euphoric one takes place. As much as he's yours, your not his. But moments like this, he can pretend you are.

[webslingingslasher]

you did reader having a bad day and going to see frat!peter but can we get him having a bad day and going to see trouble?

*cleaning out my inbox.*

three loud knocks at your door had you jump from your seat, you were so in the zone that the sharp sound had you frozen for a second.

making the short walk and pulling it open, peter forced his way in and ripped his backpack off before slamming it down. there was no reason to ask if he was mad because he was pissed.

'hi.' you try being gentle, even softly closing the door before peter points at you. 'i was sick, wasn't i?' you blink fast, 'wha-'

'i was sick! last week, i was sick!'

you have no idea where he's taking this, but you're in for the ride. it's not you he's mad at and that's very clear, he's just trying to share his frustration. 'you were sick. you were throwing up.'

'thank you! i was! it was awful!'

you nod with him. 'yeah, throwing up sucks.'

'it does! and guess the fuck what, i missed a quiz and this stupid fucking prick of a professor won't let me retake it. he tried blaming me and said i needed to be more serious, trying to insinuate i was hungover when he knows for a fact i've shown up on my fucking deathbed before!'

you feel anger build for him, peter takes his academics very seriously. so if saying he doesn't take it seriously feels like a slap in the face to you, you can't imagine how it feels for him.

'oh, that's fucked, petey. if you want i'll draft a letter to the dean and we can-'

peter laughs and shakes a finger in the air. 'already did it. and guess what, i got to retake it. but he couldn't handle the fact i went over his head and he called me immature and unequipped to handle the real world.'

you gasp, peter nods with exaggeration. 'yup! so fuck that class, fuck that prick, fuck the guy that got cheese on my shoes-' your eyes look at his nikes, true to his words there's splatters of orange on the tops. "- fuck ethan for getting me sick, fuck everything and everyone!'

a gulp of air, he calms himself down. 'except you. i still like you.' the room goes quiet when he sits on the edge of your bed. it's just one of those days where nothing you say will fix it and he just needs to feel sorry for himself and have someone do it with him.

you stand in front of him and hold his head to your torso. peter buries his face in your shirt and breathes deep, you're worried he might be suffocating himself. you take his snapback off and lightly scratch his scalp.

'i'm sorry everything and everyone sucks, petey.' you can feel a rumble when peter talks but you can't hear him at all. 'what's that, mumbles?' he has a slight blush when he pulls back, 'except you.' he hides his face again, holding you even closer.

'wanna look at me?' a thrash into your stomach, he's anchored around your waist. 'please?' another silent no. 'i wanna tell you something.'

a squeeze, he's listening. 'no, c'mon, look at me.' peter shouts into your shirt, it still comes out muffled. 'no. you just wanna see me all blushy and shy.'

you tickle behind the collar of his shirt, he jolts into your touch. 'just look at me, please?' a few deep breaths, he's not so pink cheeked anymore. you try to mimic peter when you're upset and cup his face, you get why he does it, he's so delicate under your touch.

'you are insanely smart, peter. i've seen the effort you've put into your work. remember one time i tried to see if i could help you finish but your math questions are like three miles long?' a small smile, your heart picks up. you're helping!

'and you're way more equipped than anyone i know, and you have the cleanest room in the house. oh, and you're a really good nephew.' there it is, that's what you were searching for. peter warmed under your touch, watching him transform into bashful had you soaring.

'not to mention how handsome you are. i mean, i totally get it, petey. cause you're my baby.' red, red, red. he turned red. peter dove for your chest, he can feel his heartbeat in his throat.

'you're being mean when i'm sad.' you pat his head before tangling your fingers in, 'i just wanted you to know that your professor sucks and is the dumbest person to ever talk to you. he's wrong and today sucked and that's all it should be.'

you bend to press a kiss to the crown of his head. 'wanna lay down for cuddles,' you wait until he shuffles away, 'my beautiful, handsome baby boy?'

another flush, you never noticed how good peter looked in red. 

[luvcryo]

Obey Me! Cooking HC's

Obey Me! Brothers x Chef!Gn!Reader

Not proofread!! So probably a couple grammar mistakes

A/n: i think this is my first actual post for obey me?? Anyways I'm turning 17 FINALLY I feel like I've been 16 for like 4 years.

[Dateables version]

Lucifer

-Once he finds out how good you are he puts in charge of meals

-He is NOT good at cooking, but he doesn't want to admit it

-Sometimes he watches you cook in the kitchen under the guise of making sure the brother's (who always ask to help just cause they wanna spend time with you) don't burn the house down

Mammon

-Praises you at every chance he gets

-Brags for you a lot

-You'll be eating at some restaurant, and he'll be like, "we all know you would make this dish way better than these guys"

-Very loud about it too

-Asks you the difference between a liquid and dry measuring cup

Leviathan

-Like Lucifer, also kind of a lurker in the kitchen

-Unlike Lucifer, though, he eventually does ask you to teach him to cook

-Honestly though he's not that bad of a cook

-He listens pretty well, so he's actually a good assistant in the kitchen

Satan

-One of the best cooks out of the brothers

-Also the first one to offer to help you in the kitchen

-All of the brother's copied his idea, and then he got mad at them because of how often they'd mess up

-(Mammon was upset he wasn't the "first" to do something with you for once)

Asmodeus

-Cooking streams!!

-He convinced you to do a stream with him where you teach him to cook something

-Tries to get you to start your own channel

-Cannot follow a recipe.

-Starts throwing random ingredients in that he thinks might be good without you noticing

Beelzebub

-Hes the best cook out of the brothers

-Its not really something he prides himself on

-You assumed that he was a good cook

-But then he offered to help you one day, and you were like

-Omg?? Why didn't you tell me you were this good before??

-He still prefers your cooking though

Belphegor

-Learned a little bit of cooking from Beel but he's honestly a very average baker

-Like he can make a mean sandwich and has a couple favorite recipes that he's mastered

-But ask him to make a basic chili??

-He has no idea

-Decent at following instructions just don't give him any task that includes manual labor or he'll quit immediately

[prettypinkporkchop]

Pack Reacts to "Do You Hate Me?"

Sam:

He's shocked and confused.

"Have I not shown you?"

Will literally make a whole speech about why he loves you.

He's a bit upset with himself.

Paul:

Laughs at first.

Is then mad.

"Why would you ever think that? Huh?"

Will literally grab your chin and force you to look at him while he talks about how much he loves you.

Bed time is super gentle that night.

Jared:

Starts blankly at you.

After it registers, he will grab you and kiss you roughly.

"Who lied to you?"

He will hold you for hours and kiss every inch of your body.

He will attempt to write a poem, but he forgets how to rhyme.

Embry:

"Chat, is this real?"

He will scoop you up and put you over his shoulders and throw you on the bed.

"I love you, dummy."

Glares at you for a few hours but then kisses you and then goes back to glaring.

He will serenade One Time by Justin Bieber.

"Don't ask how I know the lyrics, please."

Jacob:

He will grab your wrist and pull you into him.

"Do you want to catch these paws?"

"If I hated you, why would I have imprinted on you? Huh?"

He will take you on a date right them.

In bed that night it's only about you.

Quil:

"If it's because I ate your cookie, I'm so sorry."

He will literally lay on top of you and keep you trapped while whispering in your ear everything he loves about you.

"Wanna watch me phase and then ride on my back?"

"I'll let you straighten my hair."

Lots of pampering. He washes your hair for you.

Leah:

"Only if you hate me."

"That's what I thought."

She will cuddle you and kiss you all over.

She will order takeout.

Seth:

He will start to cry.

"I love you more than anything."

He would surprise you with a gift.

He will stare at you with sad eyes the whole night and keep kissing you.

"Come on, let's go out to eat."

[bengiyo]

Love Sea: Tongrak is Kind of an Asshole, and I Like It

I watched this yesterday with some friends, so my Stray Thoughts were a little scattered because we were talking about BL conventions, Thailand's tourism goals, and who MAME was. Now, with some time to think, I wanna talk about my favorite thing: Tongrak is a rich asshole. I love this for Fort and Peat.

He Looks Down on People Poorer Than Him

We open with Tongrak dressed inappropriately for his trip and the weather, whining on his phone, just to show his disdain for even being sent on this vacation.

Then when he first arrives on the island, he looks around at people enjoying themselves and a sign they dedicated to their home reading "Heaven on Earth" and immediately called it hell. This is these people's home! He is a guest! I deal with this show in my home city all the time. Be respectful!

Next, the first thing he does is start shouting at Mahasamut about the motorcycle and his luggage. He doesn't slow down to ask if Mut can speak the central dialect, or if there are alternative modes of transport. Instead he just screams at the man and then starts talking shit in front of him like he can't understand what is being said. I give Americans shit for doing this in other countries, and I give northerners shit for acting like they can't understand our accents down here along the Gulf.

He was rude about that bar, too. He went there for attention, and got pissed at the idea that people there might be into Mut more.tjsn him. He then stormed off without paying for his drink!

This man is so stubborn and petty that he literally just starts sending him thousands of baht instead of just asking him to speak in the same dialect as him. I'm totally with Mut on not speaking to him nicely until Tongrak did it first. What's so wild about this scene is that it's text that Rak is mad that his condescension is having no effect.

Mahasamut is Responding to Tongrak's Energy

Mut is just responding to what Rak is giving him, and is doing everyone a favor by bearing the brunt of this spoiled man's fits. He was even kind enough to let this man know right away that he could understand him.

The big thing for me is he can see when Rak is trying to get one over on him and turns that around. Rak tried to play like he had the upper hand sexually and felt played. He tried to play about being full and got played.

We see that the people of the island admire Tongrak, and he's involved in their lives. He's clearly playing a role here that Rak's friends hired him to play to help their cranky friend relax and finish his book.

I also like that Mut has made it clearly he is down to fuck with Rak whether he pays for it or not, because Rak is trying to hook up with someone for inspiration for his novel. I like that he removed the wealth component there, because it's clear Rak is used to throwing money at all of his problems.

Finally, Mut stopped immediately when he realized he'd actually scared and upset Rak. He doesn't actually want to hurt this man.

Why This Rocks for Peat and Fort

These two found a good rhythm in Love in the Air. They're good at this form of asymmetric bickering and flirtation. However, this time Peat gets to play the older, richer character. It's fun for me, because I think there's going to be a bunch of transference from LITA that covers how much of a jerk Rak is being to others.

I am glad that these two aren't reprising the same characters, and are being given a reasonable way to take advantage of their existing dynamic and tools. It's interesting that these guys can tap into similar beats without it feeling like the same characters.

On the Colorism

I see it, and it's there. However, I don't think MAME is an outlier in using it in her shows. There's a really rough sequence in Fish Upon The Sky (with Neo no less) that comes to mind immediately. I also just think that the skin tone stuff seems built in to a lot of the works we encounter (especially considering that some of these guys are literally brand ambassadors for skin lightening products or clinics). I think there's something to say about the way Mut is teasing Rak with a country bumpkin bit that could almost be read as race play, and there's maybe something to unpack there with far more nuance than I think we normally bring to BL.

But hey, while I have you here, now's a good time to say that if we want to tackle how race affects the queer experience, For The Boys is right there!

[de4dlyniightshade]

can you do pregnant reader gets angry at post prison reid and baby reid for a stupid reason

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: none

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: none besides mild arguing but not really

A/N: idk how both scenarios ended up with both crying

- post prison reid:

"hey, spence could you come help me move this table?" you called to him as he sat on your shared sofa, book in hand as you put away and organised your little book corner on your own, already mildly annoyed that he hadn't offered to help or put away the books he'd taken out.

"yeah, could it wait 'til i finish this chapter?" his tone was more like he was telling you to wait rather than asking you(to your pregnant mind), which set you off, letting out an irritated sigh as you unceremoniously dropped the book you were holding onto said table, the hard cover creating a loud bang that startled him, his head whipping around in confusion.

"doesn't matter." you huffed, walking away from the table to head to your bedroom, spencer jumping from his seat at your change in demeanour.

"no no, i'll help, sorry" he apologised but you were already on a roll, you'd set your mind to it and that table was staying where it was.

"oh so now you wanna help?" you snapped, turning to glare at him, his wide eyes looking back at you, slightly hurt at your outburst and your bitter tone and he suddenly felt a lump in his throat, you'd never been so hostile with him before and it hurt.

"i-i'm sorry if i- if i did something wrong, please don't be mad at me" he spoke meekly, his voice cracking as he did, lip quivering slightly as he avoided your eyes.

the sight of him upset at your words made your emotions go into overdrive, tears spilling over your waterline almost immediately as you began sobbing hysterically, spencer's eyes becoming massive as he rushed to your side, placing his hand on your back as you stood double over, sobs wracking your body as you spoke nonsense, not a single word intelligible and then spencer understood.

"oh...oh! come on, sit down, shh shh" he spoke softly as he guided you to the sofa to sit down, rubbing your aching back before he quickly fetched you a glass of water, bringing it to and crouching down in front of you as he urged it into your hands.

"just breathe, sweetie" he murmured, rubbing your knee soothingly as you took big gulps of water, taking a few good deep breaths when you were finished.

"that's it, just breathe" spencer encouraged, offering you a sympathetic smile as your breathing evened out eventually, guilt now filling your chest at the realisation of what you did.

"i-i'm so sorry i- i don't know-" you tried to explain, spencer just shushing you and shaking his head, "don't be sorry, it's not your fault, now, you still want that table moved?" he asked sweetly, making you giggle at what silly thing had started the whole argument as you nodded.

- baby reid:

"spence?" you said quietly as you knocked lightly on his office door, not getting a reply back so you peeked in to see him with his nose buried in a file, clearly not having heard you the first time you called his name again, this time louder, nothing.

"spencer." you said more sternly, not taking too kindly to being ignored and when he didn't reply a third time you snapped, turning on your heels and slamming the door so hard you were surprised the whole building didn't shake, which for sure had his attention now.

"i was listening" he said as he opened the door to see you throwing yourself down on the couch in anger, faced away from him to further show how mad you were.

"yeah well try actually acknowledging me." you seethed, not even looking in his direction as you spoke but you could practically feel his puppy eyes in the back of your head and it took all your will not to turn around.

"i-i was just...busy" he spoke quietly, trying to explain himself to a very emotional, very pregnant woman, which was almost impossible, there was no right answer.

"what a surprise." you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes even though he couldn't see you, your tone making his chest tighten with something he hadn't felt before, a dull pain in the back of his throat as he tried to hold back his tears and failed.

"i-i'm sorry" was all he could get out before he got completely choked up, tears streaming down his cheeks as his lip quivered uncontrollably.

the sound of his voice so hurt made you instantly realise your mistake, bringing your hand to your mouth as you turned to see him at the door of his office, fidgeting with his hands as he looked at the floor, his shoulders twitching as he let out silent sobs.

"spencer i'm- i- i didn't mean it" you stuttered as you stood from the couch and made quick strides to him, your heart breaking a little more as he looked up at you with his teary eyes and wet cheeks.

"y-you've never yelled at me before" he whimpered, looking away from you as more tears fell from his eyes and suddenly there were tears streaming down yours too as you pulled him into your arms.

"i'm so sorry, baby, i-i'm just really emotional right now, i'm sorry i took it out on you" you explained softly as you ran your hands up and down his back, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your neck.

"wh-what did you want to ask me?" he finally said after a few moment of silence, making you remember that you went into his office for a reason, which you then realised was completely stupid and you had to tell him why you got so mad.

"uhm i was gonna ask...if you wanted to go get ice cream" you winced at having to admit it, spencer going silent for a moment before he started giggling into your neck, pulling away to shake his head at you as he continued laughing, "it's not funny!" you scolded, scowling at him.

"i know, i know! i'll get my jacket" he said, holding his hands up in surrender but still laughing to himself.

[restinslices]

I love your stuff so much, could you write something with the reader getting jealous about Smoke? Someone getting a bit too close to him and the reader feels bad about it. And Tomas finds out and comforts her, finding it endearing.

And I love you💕 Idk why this was kicking my ass so bad. I did two drafts and idk if I like this but this is all I got😔

Word count: 1476

Tomas was not entirely stupid. 

Sure he had moments where he'd made something that should've been simple,  incredibly complicated but he wasn't stupid. He didn't think so at least. 

Anyone who's been around him for the past week might disagree though. 

Tomas had just returned from a mission along with his brothers, and naturally he was telling you all about it. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren't really listening. Tomas tended to ramble and his missions were usually the same as the last, so it was best to let him go on and on but still add commentary here and there. “Wow”, “Really?”, “No you didn't”, and other side comments would hold him. 

Your ears perked up and you started to listen more when he started mentioning women.

It's not that he couldn't speak to other women or he couldn't have female friends, you weren't that crazy. It was just the way he was describing them. Great fighters, moving with the wind, long flowy hair that danced in the sun. It was compliment after compliment, and as much as you hated to admit it, it made your heart squeeze. 

“Wanna tell me how they all looked in detail?” You said sarcastically. You expected Tomas to hear your sarcasm, realize what was wrong, apologize and keep telling his story. Instead he just chuckled and said 

“Then we'd be here all day”. 

Unfortunately for you, the day got worse. 

Another woman whose name you hadn't memorized was all over him. Giggling at jokes that weren't nearly as funny as she pretended they are and finding any reason to touch him. 

You should've said something. You should've communicated your feelings. That's how relationships are supposed to work. 

But you didn't. 

On one hand, you thought you had every reason to be jealous and if Tomas actually cared for your feelings, then he would've picked up on this and apologized. On the other hand you thought you were being unreasonable. Tomas couldn't help if some ditzy bitch liked him. Plus, you never told him how you felt, so you couldn't be mad at him for not understanding. In the same breath though, why didn't he tell her to get off of him and why did he feel it was necessary to describe how great these other women he met were? 

You were arguing with yourself for a solid week, and each day that devil on your shoulder got louder. After all, if Tomas did care about how you felt, he'd stop entertaining that girl. Everytime she was near, you left. Didn't you absence bother him?

But once again, that damn angel got in the way telling you to just be honest with him. He'd understand. How can you be mad at something you hadn't communicated upsets you?

But communication came with shame. How would you look telling Tomas that you got a little butt hurt about him talking about other girls and a girl that kept flirting with him? He'd either understand, or he'd be upset. That's how relationships fell apart, right?

No. It was the lack of communication. 

Maybe?

“I'm gonna throw myself down the stairs” you mumbled. 

“Why?” he asked. 

You somehow forgot he was there. You and him were in charge of washing dishes for the week, but neither of you had been talking. 

“I just hate washing dishes” you said, not completely lying. 

It went silent again, the only thing filling the air being the sounds of you washing and him rinsing. 

Then that silence was broken. 

“Are you ignoring me?” he asked. You didn't know how to answer. You didn't mean to ignore him. You were just in your head a lot. 

You didn't answer and he sighed. “Did I do something?”

“No” you answered without thinking. It was a reflex at this point. Tomas over thought things a lot and you'd have to remind him not everything was on him. Telling him he wasn't at fault was natural, but you weren't sure who was at fault now. 

“I mean… I don't know. It doesn't matter”

“It does to me”

“Does it?”. 

You closed your eyes and breathed slowly. You were being way too harsh and you knew it. Tomas was asking you to share what was going on in your head, and you were saying no?

You opened your eyes again. Your mouth opened a few times, trying to figure out how to put what you were feeling but it never felt right. 

“I don't know how to get this out. It doesn't even make sense in my head. It won't make sense out loud”

“Just say it anyway and I'll ask you questions if I'm confused”. You wondered how Tomas was so good and patient and wondered if he learned that from one of his parents. Or maybe his sister. Either way, you mentally thanked whoever he learned from. 

“Ok so, I just feel- no. No, I should explain first in chronological order. You came back and then… actually that sounds really accusatory”. You groaned and looked over at him “can you just tell me to shut the fuck up”. 

He smiled a little and shook his head. “I wanna hear it. We have all day”. 

“It's late at night. That is not true”. He didn't respond and he wouldn't until you confessed whatever you were thinking. 

“Chronological order then…”, after some more stumbling and backtracking you managed to get it all out. Why you were jealous, when it started, how conflicted you felt and how ashamed you felt for being jealous in the first place. The whole time he just listened, nodded, and furrowed his brows at some parts. You couldn't tell if it was confusion or anger. 

“I didn't mean it that way” he said when you were done. “When I said 'then we’d be here all day’. I just meant there was a lot of them, which I realize now still sounds bad but I didn't mean it in some 'they were just too beautiful’ way. I didn't hear your sarcasm”

“And I just kept conversation with her to be nice. I don't know. I didn't wanna seem rude”

“Being rude can go a long way”

“I guess. And I noticed your absence, I just didn't know why. I figured you needed space for whatever reason, so I didn't bother you”

“I think it's impossible for you to bother me”. 

Once again, he smiled and let out a small laugh. You looked back down at the soapy water and that's when you felt like a complete idiot. You were worrying him when you could've been had this conversation. 

“I'm an idiot”

“I don’t think so” and you could tell by his voice that he was smirking. “I think you're just really in love with me”

“Ok buddy”. You rolled your eyes, even if he was right. 

“It's cute”

“It's embarrassing”

“Loving me or-”

“Being jealous. I haven't been that jealous before with anyone else”

“I'm not like anyone else”

“You're white. You're quite literally like everyone else-” Tomas flicked water your way, some of it getting in your eye. 

“I'm gonna kill you”

“You wouldn't. You'd get jealous over the Grim Reaper”. You frowned but he kept smiling that stupid smile that was both loving and antagonistic. Then he laughed. A nice heartfelt laugh that ended up making you crack a smile. 

“Are you smiling because I'm laughing?”

“Absolutely not”,  you lied. 

“You really got a thing for me”

“I've never met you a day in my life”

“That's even more embarrassing then if you're that in love with me”. You went to make another smart comment, but he bumped his shoulder against yours “hey”, he said softly. So soft it threw you off guard. “I think it's cute. You're like a little guard dog”. 

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby and now your social cues are scrambled? A guard dog? I'd prefer if you stabbed me. Here-”, you went to grab a knife but he caught your hand. Any other time you would've hated this. Both your hands were soaking and something about the feel of that made you skin crawl, but you guessed you could deal with that. 

“I think it's cute that you love me so much. I just wish you'd be more honest about what you feel. I was worried”. 

You cringed. You supposed that was your fault. You and your dumb brain making shit complicated, which is something you swore was more of a Tomas thing. 

“I'll be better. I promise. I'll start now”

“Now?”

“Now. The texture of you wet hand makes me wanna die. Please unhand me”. He couldn't help but laugh as he let you go, and you couldn't help but laugh as well. 

You didn't know what you were laughing at. 

You were just happy to be laughing together. 

Finally getting back to requests. The crowd goes wild. Tumblr has this big space between lines so I cannot tell if the format is weird and I should add more space or if I’m tweaking. Oh well.

[oneforthemunny]

I now need hockey!eddie to say "oooo you wanna kiss me so bad rn"

he's the type to be like mid argument- not a serious one, just a little bickering match. he forgot to close the toilet seat and you're grumpy and that set you over the edge. you're upset, yelling at him, just bitching him out, and he's upset too, but also-

"let me just say one fuckin' thing? can i say one fuckin' thing please?"

you huff, throwing your hands up. "fine, eddie. what? what do you have to say?"

eddie's brows are furrowed, upset and angry. "i'm gonna be honest with you, because i know that's what you want me to be." and you're ready to scream at him, furious and revved up even more. "i am rock fuckin' hard right now."

you blink. "what? what did you just say to me?"

"look, i've been listening to you, and-and i get where you're coming from. i'm definitely going to work on that, promise. but like, babe," he looks down at his crotch. "you want me to be honest? tell you how i feel? i feel horny. i'm turned the fuck on, and i'm sorry about it, but that's just what happens."

you're a little confused, a little angry but less now. "you wanted me to be honest so i am! and i didn't want you to see it and get mad, but like it's there, and it's not going away, because you're hot right now. this is doin' something to me, alright?"

"eddie, what the fuck-"

"-and i really think you just wanna kiss me right now." eddie can feel your anger disappearing, though you huffed at him in annoyance. "you wanna kiss me soooo bad, and i know it. so just do it! get it over with!"

you shove him instead, shoulder checking him dramatically as you stomp past him, his hand catching your wrist, pulling you back into him, peppering your face with kisses, erection grinding into your ass as you squeal and try to push him away half-heartedly.

[luveline]

hi jade! i’m obsessed with ur writing. i also love angst so much idk i was thinking maybe for zombie steve, the stress of post college life and everything gets too much for them and it all kinda blows up into a fight and the reader is thinking like his life would be so much easier if we weren’t dating and then it’s them kind of making up??? totally understandable if u don’t wanna make these poor babies suffer any more but just wanted to throw it out there! haha

thank you for your request lovely <3 steve zombie au —a trivial fight snowballs, and you get some much needed reassurances. fem!reader, 3.5k

"I think you're tired," Steve says. 

You pull your backpack higher up your shoulders by the straps. "I'm not tired, Steve." 

"You haven't slept well in weeks," he says. 

"It's not the point. You're not listening to what I'm saying, you're just looking for the problem." 

"Because," he says gingerly, "I know that you wouldn't be saying this if you'd been sleeping. That's all I'm saying." 

"You're not listening," you insist. 

"I am, I am listening," he says, and he doesn't sound mad, but the ice is thinning. "I get that you think we shouldn't be moving along. I understand what you're saying to me, but I really think you're– it's fatigue. You're sick of moving around, I am too, but you know the risk if we stay somewhere." 

"You're not listening to me, though, you're discounting my concern because I'm tired, but if I wasn't tired I'd be saying the same stuff. We can't keep moving around, your knee is still hurting even though you refuse to tell me, and you think I don't know but I do know–" 

"So the problem is that I'm not telling you my knee hurts?"

"The problem is that you have no sense of self preservation and also that you're really not listening–" 

"I'm listening!" Steve says, his voice peaking. 

Robin turns to look from where she's walking just ahead with Sarah and the others. She meets Steve's eyes first and then yours, and she smiles at you tentatively, as if to say, Everything okay?

You shake your head at her. Don't worry about it.

"I'm obviously fucking listening," he mutters, looking to the sun as he combs his hair out of his eyes. 

"You don't have to be a jerk about it." 

"You're jabbing at me."

"I'm jabbing at you?" 

"It's black and white with you today. I say black and you say white, and it's giving me a headache." 

You huff a breath out. Arguing with Steve is easy, you did it enough when you first met, but it's different now. It hurts your feelings when he digs in.

"That's not true, I don't need to be contrary to disagree with you," you say. 

"But you are! You're just disagreeing with me because you're in a bad mood! You know we need to leave, you know it's the right thing, and I just don't want to listen to it anymore." 

"Why? Why is it so hard for you to listen to me? You love me," you say. It sounds odd, nearly questioning, and you both flinch. 

"Of course I love you. But I'm tired. I don't want to fight." 

"It wasn't a fight until you made it one," you say. 

Fight or flight doubles and you rush forward and away from him before you can get anymore heated. He says your name but you ignore him, falling in to step with Robin and Sarah. 

She frowns at you apologetically. "Sorry, can I…" 

"Yeah," you say quickly. "Of course you can." 

Robin smiles and drops back to walk with Steve. They don't speak, and you don't look back, but you're glad she's with him even if you're mad at him; you've argued, but you certainly don't want him on his own at the back of the camp's procession. 

Sarah smiles at you. She has big green eyes and pretty red hair, straight as a sheet and shiny as silk despite the circumstances. It's greasy at the top, so at least she's not perfect. 

"Hey," she says sympathetically, "are you okay?" 

Her asking has a heat brewing behind your eyes, but you find it to be annoyance rather than upset. 

You have to force the words out, "I'm fine." 

She nods, rolling the cord of her tent around her hand. It drags on the floor. It's the mode of transport the majority of your campmates have chosen for their tents and bags, a hundred pack of bungee cords wrapped around tarps and sacks to take some of the strain off of everyone's shoulders. It looks strange, all those camping bags dragging over dirt and grass. 

"Love is very difficult," she says. "I don't envy the fighting. But you and Steve don't fight much. I envy that, how happy you are." 

You breathe out slowly. She's nice, and Robin likes her, and you'd rather not take your anger out on her. 

"It's not difficult," you say eventually. You roll your neck and whine as it clicks. "It's easy. Just hard lately 'cos things are different." 

"I guess it's exhausting having to care about someone else. I can hardly find the energy to care about myself." Sarah laughs gently. "Not that people aren't worth loving, but the energy to look after someone, it must be tiring. What I'm trying to say is, I can see why it would be harder lately 'cos we're not at Oaks anymore, you feel like you're always on high alert trying to stop something bad happening." 

You hear what she's saying, but you focus in on the wrong part. It's hard, so hard, having to look after someone. And that's all Steve does. 

You look over your shoulder. Steve and Robin are walking side by side, Robin's hand curled around his elbow, her cheek dipped momentarily to his arm. "It'll blow over," you think she says. 

Steve nudges her. She nudges back. 

"Maybe it would be easier if he didn't have to look after me," you say. 

You say it because you want reassurance. Sarah races to give it to you, your shoulders relaxing in tandem as she says, "No way! He wouldn't want that, and you don't either. Try not to worry, Y/N. You just need a breather." 

—

You are being so, so quiet. Steve knows you struggle talking to him when you're mad. You're not cruel enough for the silent treatment but there's nothing wrong with needing space. He hates how crabby he got with you, but he also genuinely still thinks that he was right. 

Who knows. Steve sighs and scratches his stubbly chin. He has a zit coming, he can feel it, and it's driving him crazy. 

You'd offer to squeeze it if you weren't fighting. He knows that's a stupid fucking thing to miss, and want, but he likes you taking care of him. He loves that you don't care about the gross stuff, you'll do whatever if it makes him more comfortable. So he sits by the struggling campfire wishing you'd squeeze his stupid zit and say more than, "Hungry?" as you pass him a can of pasta. 

You eat in silence. Steve suffers it until he can't anymore.

"Do you want the rest?" he asks, offering you his half-eaten can of low-carb linguini. "It's boring," he warns. 

"Swap?" you ask, offering your bowl. You have a mixture of sliced water chestnuts, artichoke hearts, and half of a frankenfurter. 

You'd obviously taken the worse option. You could've given him the hodge podge, but you gave him the pasta. He feels bad for complaining and trades dinner with you.

"Do you…" 

Steve waits for you to finish. When you don't, he swallows around a chalky water chestnut and asks, "What?" 

"Never mind. Forget it." 

Steve raises his eyebrows but looks back at his meal. He was hoping you'd say sorry, because he's still feeling too proud but he wants to make up. He thinks maybe he doesn't deserve to make up if he can't bring himself to apologise —you were right that he should listen, even if he's tired. He should have more patience, just patience has never been his strong suit, and he's fucking exhausted and he knows you are too. He's sick of worrying if he did the right thing, and he's still mad at you, but he's starting to wonder if it matters anyways. It was a stupid fight that got too big. If you hadn't walked away, you might've been able to smooth it over. If he wasn't too stubborn to take the five big steps to your side, he could've done the same.

"I'm still annoyed," he says finally, "but I'm sorry for being a dick. Can we… gloss it over for now?" 

You usually give in pretty easily. You aren't eager to hold a grudge, a sucker for one of his tight hugs, but you seem pretty reluctant as you nod. He's not as forgiven as he'd like to be. It's fair. His apology wasn't the best. 

"Sorry," you mutter. 

"Am I a dick if I ask to talk about it when we've both had some sleep?" 

You shake your head, shooting him a nice, albeit small, smile. "I think that's a good idea." 

Robin appears as you're pitching your tent. 

"Okay, don't make this a big deal, but I'm sharing with Sarah tonight." 

You smile. Steve frowns. 

"Uh?" he asks. 

"We were talking about how you guys had your, uh, disagreement, and I mentioned that you're cranky because you never get to hook up because I'm always there, and she invited me. So that's what I'm doing. Maybe you guys will feel better after some time alone." 

"You think we're cranky because we aren't hooking up?" Steve asks, genuinely baffled. 

"Not really, but Sarah laughed. I," —Robin tucks her hair behind her ear, looking bashful in her huge hoodie— "really do think you could benefit from, like, privacy. Just have some time together. Don't argue again." 

"Thanks, Rob," you say. 

Robin presses her lips together in a funny smile and shoots you a double finger guns. "I'm a philanthropist." 

"Maybe you'll be less cranky when we see you in the morning," Steve says. 

"Please, Steven." 

Robin says goodnight. You and Steve pitch the tent slowly. He thinks you might be scared of being alone with him while things are still awkward, reluctant to meet his eyes, and you haven't smiled since the little one you offered at the fire. 

He sits at the entrance of the tent beside you and sighs. "I'm sorry." 

"You already said sorry." 

"I know. But I figured it couldn't hurt." 

You pull tufts of grass up in your hands, slouched forward into your own lap. He puts his hand on your back and rubs at your poor posture. Sometimes he worries that months ago, when you fell through damp flooring in a dilapidated building hundreds of miles away from here, you'd permanently fucked your discs. Your recovery was rough, and he barely noticed how much grief your back was giving you because he'd been so scared of the lump on the back of your head. He wonders if it still hurts. 

He gives it an extra soft rub to be safe. 

"Do you think things would be really different if we never met?" you ask. 

"Things would be awful–" He starts immediately. You cut him off. 

"Would they?" you ask, propping your face in your hand, elbow digging into your knee.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he asks. He's trying to be one hundred percent joking, but it's a solid 80/20, the 20 a startling hurt. "Would things be awful if we never met? Let me think about that one. Yes. Things would be awful." 

You smile weirdly.

He takes his hand back. "What, you think things would be better if we never met?" 

"For you." 

Steve gets this feeling like he's had hot water chucked over him, and his eyes start to hurt. They ache. He could cry for you, he really could. How can you even think that, for a moment, for long enough to ask him, and begin asking him an hour ago? You sat there for an hour thinking about it and this is still the conclusion you came to: you think things would be better for him without you. 

Steve takes your face into his hands. He needs you to be looking at him, straight at him and into his eyes as he tells you. 

"I would not be here without you." 

"But if you were–" 

"But I wouldn't be. And not because you saved me from geeks at the start," he says, frowning, furious, "or any time after that. I could be the best survivalist in the world and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." 

"Robin–" 

"Is my best friend. I'd die for her." His hands slide further back on your face. "But I wouldn't be here without you." 

"I make things so hard for you," you say. Steve watches helplessly as your eyes fill with tears.

"You don't, and if you do, I make things hard for you too." 

"I'm sorry for being miserable," you say, staring at his chin. 

He ducks his head to force you to meet his eyes. "It's okay, it's okay," —he wipes under your eyes with his thumb to catch a tear that hasn't fallen yet— "it's okay. It doesn't matter. You don't have to be happy, you don't have to be nice to me every second of every day, you just have to know what you mean to me and get a handle on it."

"No, 'cos I know I make it hard, I know I've been hardwork right from the start and I don't get easier. I'm always getting hurt–" 

"It breaks my fucking heart, but if you think that matters to me–" 

"–I'm not strong, I complain and I– I make bad choices, I cry all the time–" 

"Why do you think that?" 

"I'm messed up," you say, pulling his hands from your face. 

"There's nothing wrong with you." Steve squeezes your hands, shuffling closer to you on knees, desperate to set you straight. "Come on, Y/N. You need to be strong to get through this. You think you'd have gotten this far if you weren't strong?" 

"I got here because of you–" 

"I'm here because of you," he says firmly. Loud, angry, abrasive in the face of your heartsick tears. "Why can't you see that? Did I do something, to make you think you can't do this?" 

"You didn't do anything, Stevie," you sniffle, wiping your cheek with the back or your wrist, "and it's not the point." 

"What's the point?" he asks, much softer than before. 

You shrug. You wipe your cheeks again, stemming the rapid flow of tears spilling at the corners of your eyes. Your lashes are darkened triangles against your skin. "I don't know. I just wish you had someone looking after you who could actually look after you, rather than make you miserable all the time." 

"I'm not miserable." Steve takes in a big breath, hand tangling in the worn fabric of your shirt as he leans in too close. "Would you tell me why you're crying?" he asks quietly, tilting his head to one side. "Please. Just tell me what's wrong." 

"I don't want to fight anymore," you say, and you sob. 

"We're not fighting, baby," he says, hand slipping under your t-shirt. His palm roves the soft pouch of your stomach to your side, where he grasps at you, pulling you in toward him for a hug. His chin bumps into your shoulder, your wet cheek to his stubbly one. "This isn't a fight, this is me trying to make you feel better, honey. I don't want you to feel like this." 

"I'm worried you'd be better off without me," you mumble, lowering your head and pressing your eyes to his shoulder, the wet of your tears leaching into his shirt. "I'm doing it right now, I'm being fucking useless." 

"Why are you so afraid of being upset?" he asks, frowning.

"Because you never are," you say. You move into his touch, like you're trying to climb into his lap. Steve yanks you forward. 

"That's not true, you've seen me at my worst. You've seen me angry, and mean. Crying my eyes out." 

"You cry when things are bad. I cry all the time," you say, sounding very, very small. 

"Honey, I cry more than you think. I cried two nights ago. I cried when you were sick." He doesn't enjoy admitting it, because he wants to be strong for you, but he thinks his confession is a different kind of strength, and one you're in dire need of. "I'm sorry I don't always let you know. It's not fair. I expect you to tell me everything and I keep shit from you."

"Why did you cry two nights ago?" you ask, peeling away enough to look up into his face. 

He has to tell you, even if he doesn't want to. He should've told you when it happened. "I felt sick." 

"Yeah? Like nauseous? Do you feel sick now?" 

"Not really. I don't like seeing you cry, but I'm alright." Steve's hand slides down your side to the hem of your jeans, his thumb pushing into the waistband. "See?" he asks imploringly. "I felt like shit so I cried, and it doesn't mean you'd be better off without me. It just means I felt sick. You don't have to give meaning to everything, you really don't. I hate to say this, but you have to keep your head up. For me." 

You nod, sniffling and wiping your snotty nose with your sleeves. He bats your hand away and does it bare handed. There are much worse things in the world than this. In fact, he's happy to do it. 

"I'm sorry, for fighting with you and for crying all over you." You laugh, and Steve's heart soars.

"I love you, you idiot," he says. "I love you. Hold still a second." 

Steve climbs up on knees to press kisses from temple to temple, from temple to chin, and from chin to your lips. Your skin is hot and damp under his lips but he traverses unperturbed, trying to plaster each inch of your frankly gorgeous face in love. 

"I want you with me forever," he says, hoping you understand exactly the severity of what he means.

"I want you," you say. "As long as you'll have me. Forever and ever." You give a few quick nods, and the sadness drains from your expression, replaced with a relieved and ecstatic affection instead. "I really think I might be tired." 

"You think?" he asks. You laugh together, and he grabs your hand, giving it a sharp squeeze as he tacks on, "But I really need to listen to you, even if I'm irritable."

"We take stuff out on each other sometimes," you say. 

He squeezes your pinky finger. "We do. It's gonna happen. And I'm glad it's me and you, you know? I don't wanna fight, but I want it to be with you." 

"I want it to be with you, too," you say.

He can finally relax for the night. You make your way into your tent and lie on your backs, ankles hooked, a shitty paperback resting on your chest. The camp quietens as people head to their own tents for the night, though a gaggle of people stay awake at the fire, telling stories and laughing. Despite everything, there are moments when all of this feels fun. When Steve can pretend he's two years ago on a loser-group camping trip. And maybe he didn't know you then, but he would've seen you across the way and asked you out. Or he would've bumped into you at the communal showers and told you how to work the ice machine. Maybe you would've met at the lake. Maybe you would've hated one another. However you met in this distant what-if, Steve knows it would've somehow ended like this; your hand lifted to his hair and stroking wayward patterns, your breath sharp with spearmint. You'd brushed your teeth together over an empty can. Steve misses sharing a bathroom mirror with you hip to hip, but he'll take the small stuff whatever way it's packaged. 

"For the record? That was your stupidest question to date." Steve turns his head to you, tarp wrinkling under his ear. "Like, you're the queen of stupid questions, and that one still managed to surprise me. And you once asked me if I thought petroleum jelly had nutritional value." 

You flick his eyebrow gently. "I know it was stupid," you say, voice rough from a good cry. "I just couldn't stop thinking about it." 

He tugs you in for a forehead kiss, lavishing in the feeling of your skin under his lips. "You believe me, right?" 

He pulls away. 

"I believe you. I love you. I'm gonna keep my head up, Stevie, s'long as you start telling me when you need me." 

He thinks that's a deal he can make. "Deal. Easy." 

You grin at him. "Can I squeeze your pimple now?" 

"Yes!" He whips into a sitting position. "I've wanted to ask you all day." 

"It looks like an ingrown hair." 

"I'll have to stop shaving. Maybe I'll grow a beard." 

You don't bother sitting up, only beckon him toward you with a raised hand. "That won't be necessary, H. Just let me work my magic…" Your fingernail digs into his chin. "Ew, it's kinda gross."

"Please don't ridicule me."