#alright ill give you a hint

[pets-will-play-ask-blog]

Author! You've mentioned other stories you've written in the past not being as dark as this one. Did you just recently get into dark fics then?

I'm gonna say yes. I've never really been a dark fic writer. I suffer from intrusive thoughts brought on by OCD so I've always had ideas involving darker themes but I didn't start actually putting them on paper until now. And frankly, I'm glad I waited until I was an adult. I cannot imagine how badly teenage me would have handled the themes I write about now.

And it's not that my other stories are less dark. It's just that they're...less grounded? I suppose They're more surreal. The situations of tragedy and drama within them are still related to real world trauma- abuse, parental loss, PTSD, grief...but the worlds and the characters within them are way less realistic. More fantasy. With worlds that are purposefully meant to be fantastical and whimsical and very obviously not real. So it's easier for myself and the readers to distance themselves from the icky feelings that reading about those themes normally bring.

Not that PWP isn't whimsical and fantasy, but the characters and world are a LOT more similar to our actual reality. Yes, some people have animal features. But also- there's sex trafficking, and late stage capitalism, and uncomfortably realistic abusive relationships with uncomfortably realistic characters. Also, relationship and sexual trauma is something that I have been through. So it's a lot closer to home than anything else I've ever written about.

Let me put it this way: Those other stories are escapism for me. Pets Will Play is a way for me to actually deal with my own trauma without going to therapy because I can't afford it and talking about my feelings is hard.

[starrysharks]

very late night doodles holy fuck i am so sleepy

[flufflecat]

when my bill ouija board arrives im gonna take a roadtrip to the nearby definitely-not-a-cult spiritualist town and hire a tv psychic to pretend to talk to a ghost with it

[pedroscowgirl]

unexpected encounter

aaron hotchner x fem bau!reader

Warnings: smut! minors dni! p in v (wrap it up), creampie, power dynamics (he's your boss), teasing ? lmk if i forgot something (i prob did)

summary: You were off duty, enjoying a sunny afternoon in a tight, bodycon sundress that accentuated your curves, when you unexpectedly ran into your boss, Aaron Hotchner.

masterlist

a/n: i know it's fall but i just couldn't get this idea out of my head so here you go <3

(also it's 3 am rn and ill post my hugh story tomorrow for those who were waiting on it cuz now its getting a lil late)

The evening sun casts a warm glow as you step out of the café, its fading rays highlighting your sundress, a snug, bodycon fit that clings to your curves. It’s a casual weekend, far removed from the usual dark suits and crime scenes, and you feel a certain freedom in wearing something that shows off your figure. The dress is vibrant, hugging your waist and hips, and the neckline dips just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, nothing too provocative, but more than enough to draw attention.

You’re not expecting to run into anyone from the BAU, especially not your boss, SSA Aaron Hotchner. But as fate would have it, there he is, standing near his car across the street, his gaze locking onto you as if he’s frozen in place.

You pause, surprised at seeing him, and the moment stretches out longer than you expect. Hotch, the ever-composed leader, is staring. Not just a glance, but a full-on, wide-eyed stare. His usual mask of professionalism cracks slightly as his eyes trace the lines of your dress, lingering briefly on the exposed skin at your neckline before snapping back to your face.

"Hotch?" you say, your voice light with disbelief, trying to break the tension. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

He clears his throat, his expression quickly shifting into something more familiar stoic, controlled. But there’s no mistaking the way his eyes flicker back to you, like he’s struggling to keep his gaze in check.

“I could say the same,” he replies, his voice a little more hoarse than usual. "I didn’t mean to stare."

You chuckle, trying to ease the tension. “It’s alright, I’m off-duty, you’re allowed to stare.” You give him a teasing smile, knowing full well how rare it is to see this side of him.

Hotch seems to struggle with how to respond, his usual sharpness dulled for a moment. He’s not used to seeing you like this, out of your professional attire, out of the controlled environment of the BAU. He’s not used to seeing you as…anything other than an agent.

“I... uh… you look nice,” he finally says, and you swear you catch a glimpse of something like admiration in his voice, something he’s clearly trying to suppress.

You smile again, feeling a bit of warmth rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, Hotch.”

For a moment, it’s just the two of you standing there, the sounds of the city buzzing around you. It’s strange, he’s your boss, after all. But here, outside the confines of the BAU, things feel different. There’s no case, no profile, no killer to chase. Just Aaron Hotchner, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Well,” he says after a pause, breaking the silence, “I should… get going.”

“Yeah,” you nod, not wanting the moment to end. “I’ll see you Monday.”

But as you turn to leave, you can feel his eyes on you for just a second longer than necessary, like he’s not quite ready to break the spell.

And neither are you.

Monday rolls around, and you’re back at the BAU, your professional self once again. You’re dressed in your usual work attire, nothing flashy, just your go-to blazer and slacks. But something feels off. Specifically, Hotch feels off.

You notice it almost immediately during the morning briefing. Normally, Hotch commands the room with his calm authority, making eye contact with every agent to ensure they’re on the same page. But today, he’s avoiding your gaze. Subtly, of course, but after working together for so long, you can tell. When he speaks, his voice is as firm as always, but there’s something different, an edge, a tension that wasn’t there before.

He keeps the briefing short, his eyes barely lingering on you as he assigns the team to tasks for the case. The second it’s over, he quickly retreats to his office, leaving the rest of the team exchanging confused glances.

“What’s with him?” you whisper to JJ, leaning in as everyone gathers their files.

JJ shrugs. “I have no idea. He’s been quiet all morning.”

Emily slides in next to you, overhearing the conversation. “Did you do something to piss him off?” she teases, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

You roll your eyes but feel your stomach flip, wondering if you should tell them what happened over the weekend. You and Hotch didn’t do anything wrong, but there was definitely a moment. One you haven’t been able to stop thinking about either.

“I didn’t… exactly piss him off,” you say, your voice lowering. JJ and Emily exchange glances, their interest piqued.

“Spill,” Emily demands, her tone playful but insistent.

You sigh, looking around to make sure no one else is within earshot. “I saw Hotch over the weekend. Outside of work. I was, uh, wearing a dress.”

JJ raises her brows. “Okay…?”

“A bodycon sundress,” you clarify, feeling your cheeks heat up. “And it was… well, more revealing than what I normally wear around here.”

Emily leans back, clearly enjoying this. “So, you’re telling me Hotch saw you looking all hot and couldn’t handle it?”

You shrug, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I don’t know about that, but he definitely stared. I mean, he was stunned. He couldn’t even look away for a minute.”

JJ’s eyes widen in amusement. “No way. The Aaron Hotchner showed an expression on his face?”

“Exactly!” you say, laughing now that you’re sharing it with them. “I didn’t think much of it, but today? He’s been acting weird. It’s like he can’t even look at me.”

Emily grins. “You broke Hotch’s brain. Well done.”

JJ chuckles softly. “He’s probably just not used to seeing you like that, out of work mode. It might’ve caught him off guard.”

“Off guard is an understatement,” you murmur, thinking back to how he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “But it’s not like anything happened. It was just… a moment.”

“A moment that Hotch clearly can’t stop thinking about,” Emily adds. “You’ve thrown him off his game, and honestly? I love it.”

JJ gives you a more reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’ll get over it. It’s Hotch. He’s probably just trying to re-center himself. Maybe he’s worried about crossing any lines.”

You nod, but part of you wonders if there’s more to it. The way he looked at you—it wasn’t just surprise. There was something deeper, something he clearly didn’t know how to handle.

“Well,” Emily says, grabbing her tablet, “this should be fun to watch. Let’s see how long it takes for him to figure out how to act normal around you again.”

You laugh, but internally, you feel that same curiosity rising. What was Hotch thinking when he saw you? And why does it feel like it’s affected him this much?

The rest of the day drags on, but you can’t shake the tension between you and Hotch. Every time you walk by his office or catch a glimpse of him from across the bullpen, there’s this undercurrent, something simmering beneath the surface. You try to focus on the case, to act as if nothing happened, but it’s impossible to ignore the way his presence feels so much heavier today.

By mid-afternoon, you’ve had enough. You need clarity, or at least to know that this awkwardness isn’t all in your head. So, when you notice Hotch heading for the break room, you seize the opportunity.

You walk in just after him, the door swinging shut softly behind you. He’s standing by the coffee machine, his back to you, shoulders a little more tense than usual. You take a breath before speaking.

“Hotch?”

He turns slowly, his eyes meeting yours, and for a second, there’s that flash of something, surprise, maybe even desire, before he quickly masks it with his usual professionalism.

“Agent” he says, the formality of your title jarring. His voice is cool, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back.

You step closer, trying to keep your tone casual. “I’ve noticed you’ve been… distant today.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, but there’s a tightness in his jaw. “I’ve been focused on the case. Nothing more.”

You cross your arms, feeling a mix of frustration and something more personal. “Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looks away for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before his eyes return to yours. “I’m not avoiding you. I just—” He pauses, his expression faltering for the briefest moment. “I want to maintain professionalism, that’s all.”

You blink, caught off guard by the admission. “Is this about Saturday?”

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, confirmation, maybe. He looks almost uncomfortable now, like he’s been caught in something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I didn’t expect to see you outside of work,” he says carefully, his voice a little quieter. “And… I wasn’t prepared for how you looked.”

You feel a warmth rising in your chest, knowing now that you weren’t imagining things. “It was just a dress, Hotch.”

He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, his hands resting on the counter behind him as if he needs the support. “It wasn’t just the dress. It was…” He hesitates again, as if he’s struggling with how much to admit. “It was seeing you outside of this job. Seeing you as… more than just my agent.”

Your breath catches slightly at his words. More than just an agent? You hadn’t expected him to be this honest, to admit that there was something more to his reaction.

“And that bothers you?” you ask, your voice softer now.

“It complicates things,” he says, his gaze finally softening. “We work together. I’m your superior. I have to maintain a level of professionalism, not just for me, but for you, too.”

You step a little closer, feeling a pull between the two of you that you can’t quite explain. “But it’s not just about professionalism, is it?”

Hotch’s eyes search yours, and for the first time, you see the conflict written all over his face. “No, it’s not,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The air feels thick with everything unspoken, everything hovering just beneath the surface. You can feel the distance between you narrowing, both physically and emotionally, and it’s like a magnet pulling you closer.

“I don’t want this to affect our work,” he finally says, breaking the silence. But the way he’s looking at you now, his eyes soft, his expression vulnerable, makes you wonder if he’s trying to convince himself more than you.

“It won’t,” you assure him, your voice steady. “We’re both professionals. But we’re also human.”

Hotch exhales softly, his posture relaxing ever so slightly, like the weight of his inner struggle is easing. He still looks conflicted, but there’s a shift in his demeanor, a sense that maybe he’s not entirely ready to let this go, either.

Before either of you can say anything more, the door to the break room opens, and you both immediately step back into your professional roles as JJ walks in, oblivious to the charged moment she’s interrupted.

“Hey,” she says casually, reaching for the coffee pot. “You guys okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly, exchanging a brief glance with Hotch. “We’re fine.”

JJ looks between the two of you but doesn’t press further. “Good, because we’ve got a new lead on the case. Hotch, we need you in the conference room.”

Hotch gives you one last look before nodding to JJ. “I’ll be right there.”

It’s a warm, sunny afternoon when you arrive at the park for a team’s casual get-together, organized by Garcia, who insisted everyone needed some downtime outside the walls of the BAU. Laughter and conversation fill the air as the team relaxes, scattered across picnic tables and blankets.

You’re wearing that sundress again, the one that hugs your curves, the one that made Hotch’s breath catch in his throat the last time he saw you. It’s a bodycon dress that highlights your figure, with just enough of a neckline to show off a hint of cleavage, and when you walk up to the group, you immediately feel his eyes on you.

Aaron stands across the grassy clearing, wearing a simple polo and jeans that fit him perfectly. The dark material contrasts with the sunlit background, casting shadows across the strong lines of his jaw and the slope of his neck. He’s looking at you, his expression intense, his thoughts seemingly far away.

He’s quiet—Hotch always is during these gatherings—but you know what’s on his mind. It’s the same thing that’s been lingering between the two of you for days, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension. His eyes flicker from your face to your body, lingering on the dress, and you can see his jaw tighten. The rest of the team is laughing, eating, and enjoying the afternoon, oblivious to the tension that’s simmering just beneath the surface.

As you settle down near the picnic table, chatting with JJ and Emily, you can feel Hotch’s gaze like a physical touch. He tries to be subtle, to act like nothing is out of the ordinary, but you catch him glancing at you again and again. Each time, his eyes darken with desire, his body language betraying the thoughts racing through his mind.

You shift slightly, adjusting the hem of your dress, and you can almost feel the way his focus sharpens. Every movement you make seems to affect him, his grip tightening around his coffee cup, his posture stiffening ever so slightly. He’s trying to keep it together, trying to maintain that professional composure, but you can see him slipping.

From across the table, Garcia rambles about some new tech gadget she’s discovered, and Reid chimes in with his usual barrage of facts. But your mind is on Hotch, and the way his gaze hasn’t left you for more than a few seconds. You glance up, meeting his eyes from across the distance, and the heat between you is undeniable.

He looks away quickly, but you catch the way his fingers clench slightly into a fist before he releases them, exhaling as if to steady himself. You bite your lip, feeling a surge of confidence as you decide to tease him, leaning forward a little more as you laugh at something Emily says. You know exactly what you’re doing.

Hotch’s eyes flash again, and for a moment, you think he’s going to snap. His hand flexes against his thigh, and his gaze grows even darker, filled with barely-contained need. He wants to touch you, he needs to, you can see it in the way he shifts in his seat, the tension rolling off him in waves. But he can’t. Not here. Not in front of the team.

The rest of the group is oblivious to the magnetic pull between you two, but you know. And Hotch knows. His restraint is fraying at the edges, his focus divided between trying to keep up the pretense of professionalism and the urge to take you somewhere more private.

You catch his eye again, holding his gaze just a moment longer than before, and you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch, the smallest hint of a smile, or maybe something more primal. His control is slipping, and he’s fighting it with everything he has.

As the afternoon stretches on, the laughter and casual conversation continue, but all you can think about is what’s going to happen when this gathering ends. When it’s just the two of you. When he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

And by the way Hotch keeps looking at you, his thoughts following every move you make, you know it’s only a matter of time.

As you pack up your things, you notice him lingering by his car, his eyes still on you, and your heart skips a beat when he makes his way over to you.

"Need a ride home?" he asks, his voice smooth but heavy with something more.

You nod, sensing that this is the moment you’ve both been waiting for. There’s an undercurrent in his words, a promise of something more than just a simple ride.

The drive to your place is thick with tension, the kind that makes the air feel heavier, charged with anticipation. Neither of you speaks much. There’s no need to, everything has already been said in the heated looks exchanged back at the picnic, in the way his hand brushed your lower back for just a second too long as he led you to his car. It’s there in the way he’s gripping the steering wheel now, his knuckles white as he tries to keep control, though you can tell that his thoughts are anything but steady.

You glance at him from the passenger seat, noticing the way his jaw is clenched, the tendons in his neck tight as he stares at the road. His usual cool, collected demeanor is crumbling, and you know exactly what’s on his mind. You in that dress. The way he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he saw you at the park. The way you’ve been teasing him all afternoon, letting your fingers linger on his arm when you spoke, leaning just a bit closer to him than usual.

It’s like a silent game between the two of you—one that’s about to reach its breaking point.

The second the car pulls into your driveway, you can feel his restraint finally snap. The engine is barely off before Hotch is out of the car, quickly making his way around to your side. He opens the door for you, but as you step out, you can see the way his eyes are filled with a hunger that’s only grown stronger throughout the day. His hand is on your lower back again, guiding you up the steps to your door, but this time, his touch lingers. You can feel the heat of his hand through the thin fabric of your dress, and it sends a thrill through you.

You unlock the door with trembling fingers, your heart racing, knowing what’s about to happen. You step inside, and the second the door closes behind him, it’s like a dam breaks.

Hotch’s hands are on you before you even have time to turn around. His fingers curl around your waist, pulling you back against him as his mouth finds your neck. His lips are hot and urgent against your skin, and you can feel the rough stubble of his jaw scraping lightly as he kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath is ragged, and you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” he growls against your ear, his voice low and rough, filled with barely-contained need. His hands slide up your sides, his fingers tracing the outline of your dress, and the way he’s touching you, like he can’t get enough, makes your body heat up instantly. “Ever since I saw you in that damn dress…”

You gasp as his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you even closer, his hips pressing against you in a way that leaves no doubt about how badly he wants you. His mouth moves along your neck, hot and insistent, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, hiking it up slightly so he can grip your bare skin.

“Aaron…” you breathe, your voice catching as you tilt your head to give him more access. Your body is already reacting to his touch, your pulse quickening, heat pooling in your belly. You want him just as badly, have been wanting him since the moment he first laid eyes on you in this dress.

You barely make it to the kitchen before Hotch lifts you up, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he sets you on the counter with ease. The cool surface contrasts with the heat of his body pressing against you, and you gasp at the sensation. His hands are everywhere now, on your thighs, sliding up to your hips, then gripping your waist as he pulls you even closer to the edge of the counter.

He kisses you hard, his lips crashing against yours with a need that makes your head spin. It’s a kiss filled with everything he’s been holding back, all the tension from the past week finally spilling over. You kiss him back just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands continue to explore your body.

His fingers slide under the hem of your dress, hiking it up higher as his hands trace the curve of your thighs. The way he’s touching you is possessive, almost frantic, like he can’t get close enough. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he catches his breath.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. His hands slide up your sides, brushing over the neckline of your dress. “This dress… you have no idea what it does to me.”

You bite your lip, your heart racing as you look into his eyes, dark with need. “I wore it for you,” you admit softly, your voice breathless. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.”

Hotch groans softly "fuck you're such a slut for me" his hands tightening on your waist as he kisses you again, slower this time, but no less intense. "fuck yes aaron I am" you replied and his hands roam over your body, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress to touch your bare skin. You arch into his touch, your body responding to him in a way that makes it impossible to think about anything else.

One of your straps slips from your shoulder, and in an instant, Hotch freezes. His breath catches as he pulls back slightly, his eyes fixed on your exposed skin. The strap falls, and your breast is revealed to him. For a moment, he just stares, his eyes darkening even more as he takes you in.

“God…” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. His hands move to your shoulders, gently pushing the strap further down until your dress is hanging loosely off one side. His eyes flicker up to yours, filled with a mix of awe and raw desire. “You’re so beautiful.”

He leans down, his lips brushing softly over your exposed skin, kissing along the curve of your breast with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. But the tenderness doesn’t last long, soon, his kisses grow more urgent, more desperate, as his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin.

You moan softly, your head falling back as his mouth finds your nipple, his tongue swirling around it before he sucks gently, sending a surge of heat straight to your core. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter as he continues his assault on your senses, his lips and hands everywhere at once.

“I can’t… stop,” he groans against your skin, his voice rough and filled with desire. “I’ve wanted this for so long…”

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping you tightly as he pulls you against him, his erection pressing firmly between your legs. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping his shoulders as he moves against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“I need you,” he murmurs, his voice low and desperate. “Right now.”

You nod, breathless, as you pull him closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you slightly off the counter. His hands slide under your dress, pulling it up higher as he presses himself against you and takes off your underwear, his lips find yours in a heated kiss that leaves you both gasping for air.

When he finally enters you, it’s like everything else fades away. The world outside, the past week of stolen glances and restrained touches, it all falls away as he moves inside you. His pace is slow at first, savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, his lips brushing over your skin with every thrust.

You arch against him, your hands gripping his back as he moves faster, his control slipping as the need between you builds. His mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, your breasts everywhere, as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

The strap of your dress falls completely now, both your breasts exposed to him, and Hotch loses it. His hands cup your breasts again, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as he thrusts harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You’re perfect,” he groans, his voice filled with awe and desire. “Everything about you… I can’t get enough.”

You moan his name, your body trembling as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The way he moves inside you, the way he touches you, it’s all too much. You feel the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap at any moment.

And then, with one final thrust, you’re falling. You cry out, your body arching against him as pleasure crashes over you in waves. Hotch follows seconds later, groaning your name as he shudders, his body tensing as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your bodies still connected, your breaths mingling as you come down from the high of it all. Then, slowly, Hotch pulls back slightly, his hands still holding you close as he looks into your eyes, his expression softer now, filled with something more than just desire.

“You’re incredible,” he whispers, his voice full of awe as he brushes a stray hair from your face. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to keep my hands off you after this.”

You smile, breathless, as you lean in to kiss him again, slow and deep, savoring the moment. “Then don’t,” you whisper against his lips, and the way he kisses you in return tells you that he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness @devilslittlehelper

[nolovelingers]

WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

⋆ ★ movies :: scream ,, scream v ,, scream vi

characters used ᝰ.ᐟ billy loomis / stu macher / sidney prescott / wes hicks / ethan kirsch (landry) / tara carpenter / mindy meeks martin / chad meeks martin

🎧 cw — jealousy (obvi) ,, violence and dark themes (only for the ghost faces) ,, possessiveness ,, gn!reader except for stu and mindys part !!!

——————————————————————————

ೄྀ࿐ BILLY LOOMIS ˊˎ-

billy doesn’t really get jealous often. he’s extremely self-confident in himself and knows that there really is no one better than him. he knows you wouldn’t dare leave him for another, but that doesn’t stop the occasional feeling of possessiveness creeping through his mind at the sight of seeing you with another guy.

he definitely doesn’t mention it to you, not wanting you to know that the sight got to him, even if it was only slightly, and resorts to sending a glare in the person of interests direction when you’re not facing him. the second you turn around he gives you a sweet toothy smile, both cunning and sly all the same and he makes sure to lock eyes with the person while bringing you in for a deep kiss, hand gripping your face securely as if you were a possession.

and of course, he’d send stu to kill the person later that night; not feeling like their death was worth his own time.

彡 “billy, hey.” turning to greet your boyfriend with a chastened and quick kiss to his mouth, he hums, savoring the feeling of your lips moving against his that was all too short in his opinion.

“hey doll.” the corners of his mouth itched up, a smirk creasing over his face that held mischief, a dark sense of playful fun as he observed you, eyes quickly flicking from you to the boy you were currently talking to. he looked at the kid for not longer than a few seconds before returning his stone cold gaze back to you, like the man wasn’t good enough for his eyes to settle on.

“who you talking to?” he asks, only a hint of actual curiosity lingering in his voice, meeting your eyes with his and wrapping an arm around your lower body.

“oh, this is daniel. he’s in my history class.”

billy hums, returning his eyes back to the boy, who’s name was apparently daniel, in an almost predatory way. daniel felt unease through his veins as the loomis boy studied him, and smiled a bit. “nice to meet you.” he said, and billy nodded with a straight face, suddenly holding out his hand to shake. daniel accepted the gesture, loosely shaking his hand but finding himself wincing a bit at the intensity of the blonde haired boys grip.

“im billy. (y/n)‘s boyfriend.” quick to annunciate the boyfriend bit, daniel took the hint, gulping but nodding in understandment.

“alright well, i gotta run. ill see you tomorrow.” excusing himself from the conversation, daniel walks away from the scene, shaking his hand a bit as a way to soothe some of the pain from the hand crushing grip billy had him in; and you were completely oblivious as billy smirked in victory, guiding you back to the school parking lot and quickly taking out his flip phone to text stu about their next possible victim.

ೄྀ࿐ STU MACHER ˊˎ-

unlike billy, stu is an extremely jealous cretin who quickly doubts himself when it comes to his worth in the relationship. after his very first girlfriend, casey becker, left him in the snap of her fingers for a jock, he was left to be decently insecure.

he would do anything to prevent you from having any male interaction and if he could he would have a camera on you at all times to watch you go about your day and see how you’re interacting with others who aren’t him. when he actually witnesses you talking to a guy, he’s quick to jump in.

he’s not subtle at all about it and immediately gets very touchy with you, kissing your cheek and neck in front of the dude as a ‘joke’ and goes out of his way to mock and make fun of the person in question. he will whine and beg you to leave and once you’re away from the person he asks you millions of questions, especially whether or not you were attracted to them.

just like billy, he wants the person dead and for the rest of the day all he can think about is ripping their intestines out and crucifying them to a wall. his imagination runs wild with all the ways he wanted to kill him. he asks billy about it, but billy couldn’t be bothered to care that much and unless it was really, genuinely bothering stu he’d tell him to take care of it himself. after the first three guys billy had helped stu kill all cause of his jealousy, he couldn’t be bothered anymore and he knew you would start to get suspicious. every guy you talked to was disappearing at this rate.

彡 “hey babe, who’s this?” stu jogs up to you from behind, almost crashing into your back as he slings an arm around your shoulder lazily and looks at you with a shit eating grin.

“jackson.” the man introduces himself before you can to the macher killer, and stu swivels his head to the boy. his jealousy only furthering deeper as he noticed the man to be wearing a school football uniform, a jock.

“aww, i wasn’t asking you, jason.” stu’s face falls completely and you turn to him with a devastated look, feeling embarrassed in front of your classmate. “i was asking my beautiful girlfriend.” he pulls you closer to him, his big signature wide mouth smile making its way back over his face. “dont you think she’s beautiful? isn’t she just so pretty? come on jerry you can be honest, my girlfriends hot, isn’t she?” the boys tone had drastically went from playful to deadly, like he was testing him

“stu macher, this is my english teachers teaching assistant!” you warn, your face flushing a red color at stu’s outburst but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care at all as he doesn’t even look at you, taking a bit of a step closer to the jock.

“oh, so you’re smart then, huh? well, clearly not that much, wearing something as tacky as that. you get dressed in the dark this morning?” he sticks his tongue out, laughing at his own joke and apparently thinking it was the funniest thing in the world as he starts to giggle with a crazed look in his eye, and though jackson felt offended and wanted nothing more than to step forward and suckerpunch macher right in the face, something about the way his eyes held mania and instability freaked the jock out.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes and walking away from the couple. jackson doesn’t even make it three feet away and you can’t get the words out to scold your boyfriend for his behavior before he’s turning you to face him and holding both your shoulders, a serious look on his face.

“babe, be honest with me, did you think he’s cute?”

ೄྀ࿐ SIDNEY PRESCOTT ˊˎ-

sidney was a fairly innocent girl who wasn’t used to all the feelings that came along in a relationship, and she never could quite put a label on the word she felt when she saw you talking to other girls. not every girl, just the ones who in her own eyes were particularly pretty or were openly flirty.

she found it hard to trust again after her last relationship, obviously not ending well since he killed all/most her friends and then tried to go after her, but after some time once she started to heal and you showed her love and how a healthy relationship should look and act she was quick to ease into the breath of fresh air you gave her.

she pouts a bit when she’s jealous, and she doesn’t make too big of a deal out of it. depending on her scale of jealousy she’d either mention it briefly to you so you could reassure her or she’d just make sure to be extra lovey with you the rest of the day to earn more of your love and give you extra of hers.

unlike stu or billy she doesn’t make herself present in the conversation, she’ll usually glance from a distance and maybe bring it up to her friends to ask about the girl you were talking to. not that she’d do anything with the information anyway. if she ends up meeting the girl, whether it’s while she’s with you or running into her when it’s just the two of them, she’s very friendly and would even try befriending the person to see the kind of people you surround yourself with.

彡 sidney watched from a short distance the interaction you shared with a girl who’s face was unfamiliar to her. she stood by her locker, face half hidden by the door and taking a glance in your direction every couple minutes.

she couldn’t deny that there was something about seeing you talk to another girl who in her mind was one of the most gorgeous people she’s ever seen, definitely far prettier than her, making her stomach twist and turn with uneasiness.

gnawing her lip a bit she tried to pay no mind to it, being respectful as she waited for you to finish your conversation so you could walk home together like you usually do. her patience worked as it often did, and within minutes she felt your hands snake around her back, and a sweet kiss being pressed to her temple. “hey sid.” you greeted, and she hummed, leaning her weight back into your arms.

“hi.” her voice rasped, a soft and gentle whisper and a smile made its way to her features while she turned around to face you, holding her hand out for you to take, which you gladly did.

“ready to go?”

“yeah.” she smiled, and you briskly leaned in to connect your lips with hers. her heart fluttered at the action and all her worries melted away. there was no reason to be jealous, she was definitely overreacting. she trusted you and the love you had for her.

ೄྀ࿐ WES HICKS ˊˎ-

by nature, wes was a very trusting and caring person. he’s gotten jealous maybe a total of two times throughout your entire relationship. he may have occasional worries, but it’s not typically jealousy he feels. he gets more insecure than he does jealous and reflects it on himself; wondering if he’s really good enough to be your boyfriend.

he is often very protective over you and while there are times you notice his body tense or a light touch of his hand pressed to the small of your back it’s not really jealousy he’s feeling, growing up in a household where his mother is a cop he was raised to be on high alert at all times; afraid a guy might do something to mess with you or make you uncomfortable.

however, on the very very few occasions where it’s jealousy he’s feeling rather than simple protectiveness, he seems to go eerily quiet. his eyes dart back and fourth from your face to the persons, studying your interaction and the body language you’re giving off. if asked about it he’ll brush it off as nothing and force a reassuring smile that fades the second you look away and forms again when you look back.

he won’t mention it ever again and within a few hours he’s back to his normal self. but unless you’re able to notice his jealousy the second it starts, he’s not one to talk or ask about it.

彡 the sun was shining down on the both of you as you sat outside against the tree located right outside tara’s house. you had made plans with all of your friends to have a big hangout and like usual you and your boyfriend had strayed off from the rest of the group to have some alone time.

wes was always huge on private intimacy and liked it better when it was just the two of you. not anything against his friends, he loved all of them, it was just nice to spend time with just his partner. mindy, tara and chad payed no attention as the couple wondered off outside and perched themselves against a woodsy tree. wes had his back completely against the tree, legs widened while you sat between them, your back on his chest and his head on his shoulder while he held onto your body with protective arms; his muscles flexing against you.

you were laughing at something the bleached-haired boy had said when your alone time was cut short, the sound of a door opening and chad stepping outside.

“what’re you two losers doing?” he asked, a teasing lopsided grin on his face as he approached you two after closing the door.

“hey chad, just hanging out.” you greet him with a smile and wes greets him with a ‘hey’ as well, still keeping his arms secured around you.

“mind if i join you? those two girls are kind of driving me crazy right now.” he chuckles, sitting down in front of the both of you and not paying any mind to the fact that you were both cuddled up. “(y/n), you should’ve stayed inside. mindy started recreating a scene from the mummy, it was sorta funny but made me concerned about my relations to her.” you don’t question why chad had aimed the conversation towards you but it’s enough for wes’ jaw to clench against your shoulder before he brought his head up all together and off of you.

“really? wow, im sorry i missed it.” you laugh a bit and chad smiles and laughs with you as you do. you wish you could see your boyfriends face right now as he then removed his arms from around you as well, but since you were sitting up against him you couldn’t turn around and see without making it obvious.

you try not to pay any attention to his sudden change in behavior as you continue making friendly banter with chad, noticing wes completely going mute until he dismisses himself with a toothless smile and a small apology, going back inside and leaving you and chad alone and confused.

ೄྀ࿐ ETHAN LANDRY ˊˎ-

ethan gets jealous over you almost every other day, sometimes just by simply thinking about you with someone else. he doesn’t even have to see you talk to someone, or flirt, or interact; he often accidentally makes himself jealous at the idea of being jealous. when he’s jealous he then gets flustered, and has no idea how to express the way he’s feeling.

when he actually sees someone flirting with you though, it ignites a fire in him that would sometimes scare himself. obviously he’s a violent guy, but when it comes to a potential threat between your relationship it only intensifies. he’d kill the person in the most brutal way imaginable, even torturing or fucking with them before hand.

assuming you don’t yet know about his ghostface identity, he’s still the sweet, awkward and adorable ethan youve grown to know and love. in the moment he won’t do much about it, maybe standing behind you and locking eye contact with the person, resting a hand on your hip with fragility and having mock friendliness. the second they leave though is when he gets more vocal about it, pestering you with questions and dread spilling throughout his body the more he thinks about it.

however if you were already aware of his identity he wouldn’t bother to hide his disdain, looking at the mystery person with pure unfiltered disgust and hatred as he kept you close to him and dismissed you from the conversation himself. if they dared to try and intervene or call him out on his behavior they’d better prepare for a good beating, he wouldn’t hesitate before pushing them to the ground and kicking them in the stomach and all over their body repeatedly like a typical 80s bully. he’d come back for the final kill another time when you weren’t with him.

彡 “can we go? im tired.” a very grumpy brunette mumbled from his spot next to you, defensively staring at the male you were talking to. an ‘old friend’ of yours.

“one second e,” you dismissed him without so much as a glance, continuing in your conversation with the guy in front of you. he was maybe 5’10, dark brown hair and hazel green eyes that ethan imagined running red with blood and tears. ethan could definitely take him in a fight.

he was quiet for about a whole minute before he sighs, rather loudly, glancing around the room and waiting for you to notice him. when you don’t face him at his first sigh, ethan let’s out a second huff of air, louder this time.

and you ignore him again. and he sighs again. and again. and agai-

“ethan, i swear to god.” you lecture, finally turning to face him and the guy in front of you laughs a bit at the two of you, which only makes ethan feel angrier.

“im tired. please can we go. pleasee!” he whines, articulating his best puppy dog eyes as he bats his long and dark lashes at you. and of course it works, it always does.

you agree, waving your friend goodbye who understands and sends you off with a smile. as you walk back to your dorms the questions finally roll in.

who was that guy? where’d you meet? did he go to school with the both of you? how long have you known him? what’s his relationship with his family like? do you think hes funny?

you humor him as much as you can before the questions start to get more and more invasive and you finally shut him down, leaving him with a pout as he sadly stares at the floor, making you feel bad and quickly cupping his face and peppering kisses all over. he smiles finally.

by the end of the day, none of the questions actually mattered. ethan decided already the second you approached him that he was a dead man.

ೄྀ࿐ TARA CARPENTER ˊˎ-

contrary to popular belief, tara could actually get jealous quite frequently. though it’s not as often as others on the list, she’s lost a good amount of people in her life and isn’t about to risk loosing the few she now has left.

when she’s jealous she can get snappy as well as sarcastic, to both you and the person she’s feeling jealous of. it’s either that, or she’s just sickeningly nice to both of you to mask her feelings. so sweet in fact that it’s mostly taken as being mocked by the one on the receiving end, which is usually what it is anyway.

she’ll stand by you as you converse, her arms crossed defensively and an rbf like you’ve never seen, but if you try to leave the conversation or ask her if something’s up she’ll tell you to just keep talking to the other person in an annoyed voice.

彡 “you’re so funny!” you blush a bit, embarrassed by the sudden compliment and attention you were receiving from the girl in front of you that originally only approached you for a question she had about the homework in the math class you shared.

“you’re SO funny!” behind you, an annoyed tara mocks the girl, raising her voice to sound high pitched and squeaky as she defensively held her arms crossed against her chest.

“tara,” you mumble, glancing at her expectantly and she sends you a glare, huffing and turning her head away from the both of you.

the girl in front of you awkwardly scratches her head and you give her a sympathetic smile. “thank you maria. ill see you tomorrow.” she nods, sending you an appreciative smile back before glancing at your girlfriend for a second and then quickly away as she realizes the girl was already glaring in her direction before walking away from the two of you.

you sigh, turning to face your girlfriend who still looks pissed off, a grouchy look on her face and arms crossed as she meets your eyes. “tara.” you repeat her name, saying so many things without saying another word. she sighs, dropping her arms back to her sides and looking away from you now in a bit of embarrassment.

“sorry.” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.

“no you’re not.”

she smirks a little. “no im not.”

ೄྀ࿐ MINDY MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-

( ↺ please only read mindys if you identify as female !! )

mindy isn’t often the jealous type and doesn’t really see many people if any at all as a threat to her. especially for no reason. the only exception for her small bursts of jealousy is when someone knows you’re dating and still goes out of their way to make a move on you.

when this happens she gets rather ticked off, probably yelling at or lecturing the person for trying to hit on someone while knowing they’re in a happy relationship. and she’ll really specify that happy bit as if to rub it in their face.

her fits don’t last very long and though she may continue to pout over it for maybe 10 minutes max afterwards all it takes is a little reassuring and she’s back to her usual self. all in all, if she’s jealous she’ll speak out about it herself.

彡 “mindy, look at me.” you instruct your girlfriend, who in fact does not look at you as she zones off into the distance with an aggravated expression.

“i do not understand how some people have the nerve. i mean seriously, she knew you had a girlfriend, she knew that girl was me, and she still went out of her way to flirt with you.” rambling on, you’re unable to get the short haired girl’s attention as she’s lost in thought.

“mindy, will you look at me?” you repeat, currently crouched down in front of her while she rocked back and fourth on a recliner.

“it’s just- it’s so frustrating! she’s such a- a- a snake!” this emits a soft chuckle to part from your lips and you finally decide to just make your girlfriend look at you instead of desperately calling out for her which didn’t seem to be working.

“i love you.” you affirm, cupping the both of her cheeks. the martin girl blushes a bit, taken off guard.

“what?”

“i love you.”

“i love you too, baby.” she smiles, and you lean up to initiate a soft kiss, her current thoughts pausing temporarily.

by the time you pull away she’s looking at you like you’re the only thing left in the world, cheekily smiling while you continue holding her face in your hands.

“sorry for making a scene back there.” she apologies, referring to back when the entire situation went down and she ended up yelling at the girl who was trying to make a move on you in the first place.

“it’s okay. it was cute. turned me on a little.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.” you giggled, and mindy was fast to forget about the entire situation as her priorities shifted entirely to you.

ೄྀ࿐ CHAD MEEKS MARTIN ˊˎ-

depending on how long the two of you have been together is how chad would go about handling his own jealousy. if the relationship is fairly new or it’s only in the talking stage, he’s the type to go flirt with someone else to make you jealous back, even though you weren’t doing it intentionally.

if you’re about 3 months or so into the relationship though or if he’d liked you for a really long time he wouldn’t resort to that. instead he’d try his best to intimidate the person, keep an arm around you and amplify his personality.

he’d constantly interrupt the two of you rather rudely and make his own conversation, add his own thoughts or ask random questions to the stranger. he’s shameless about it too and does it all with a smile. he’d be friendly enough to the person, trying to make his own opinion on them.

would definitely be unnecessarily affectionate, holding your hand and pressing kisses to the back of your palm or making you randomly sit on one of his legs while bouncing you up and down.

彡 you groaned a bit, your boyfriend now interrupting the conversation for what felt like the twentieth time as he continued to make his presence known, both arms hung over your shoulders as he has you pressed into his chest and his head hovering over yours.

“chad, honey, what are you doing?” you finally ask, excusing yourself for a moment from your friend to talk privately.

“what?” he feigns obliviousness, a knowing smirk on his face as he reached his hands out for you again, pulling you closer to him and resting his hands on your waist.

“you know what.” you sigh, hating the fact you were already trying to fight back a smile the boy made contort on your face.

“just tryna get to know your friends.” he shrugged, leaning a little closer to you. “seeing what’s up. making sure there’s no competition.”

you roll your eyes, finally a small laugh leaving your lips.

“but chad, i get doing that to my guy friends, i guess, but do you really have to do that to the girls too?”

“what? my sisters gay, im just being precautious. nothing unusual.” he shrugged innocently and you smiled as he pulled you into a hug.

“wait, you have guy friends?”

.ೃ࿐ a/n : this took so long to finish , towards the last couple the quality kinda worsened cause i spent all day writing these and finished those ones at night

started 08.05.23. finished 08.05.23.

( scream masterlist )

©️nolovelingers 2023

[sunaluv]

hey!!! big big fan! your writing is amazing!

what if you did a you should come get your man but instead make it ‘you should come get your reader’

i just want to see characters get jealous basically lol. hope you’re doing well !!

🗣️getting rid of my drafts, drop some more prompts in my inbox.

Pairings: kaiser, reo

———————

KAISER

as the game ended and the fans started to filter out of the stadium, you hung back waiting for your boyfriend. now that the seating area was almost empty, kaiser could finally talk to you.

he called out to you as he jogged over. “did you enjoy the game, my love?” you took his outstretched hand and climbed onto the field.

“of course I did,” you swung your interlocked hands. “you were amazing as per usual.”

the two of you chatted aimlessly, walking around the field as kaiser started to come down from his post-game high.

"alright, I'm gonna go freshen up and get my stuff," he kissed the back of your hand. "wait for me?"

you nodded, eyeing the man as he vanished down the hall.

"i can feel you staring!" he called without looking back, making you chuckle.

deciding to be useful, you gathered kaisers left belongings off the bench and started to make your way towards the stadium exit.

"you kaiser's girl?" a voice from behind you.

startled, you turned around to see a guy dressed in the ubers uniform. you don't recognise him and you've met all your boyfriend's teammates, so you deduced that this guy is probably a rookie in training.

"that's me," you smiled politely, "can i help you with anything?"

"you sure can help me with something," he smirked, rubbing his chin. "for starters, you can tell me how that egomaniac managed to bag a gorgeous girl like yourself,"

how he managed to both complement you and diss you (indirectly) you found quite fascinating, but you weren't having any of it.

"he was a real sweetheart." emphasis on the sweetheart. "I'm sure if you use a more friendly approach you can get whoever it is your looking for."

the guy clearly didn't seem to get the hint. "so you're into nice guys, huh. why are ya' with michael then. guy's an ass."

"'guy' also thinks you should show a little more respect to your superiors, rookie."

smirking, you turned around to find your knight in shining armour eyeing the rookie with a smirk.

"my fault boss," his attitude was nonchalant. "keep a tight leash on this one though, or else i might get tempted again."

he smirked, trying to barge shoulders with kaiser as he passed, grunting under his breath when he didn't move an inch.

"you should go fight him, defend my honour." you nudged his side once he was out of earshot.

he chortled loudly, "you're such an instigator, I'm not fighting him."

"you'll do it if you love me?" you questioned blinking up at him with innocent eyes. the things you would do you see michael throw hands with someone.

his big hand pushed your face away from him. "ill do you one better and make his training with the ubers unbearable, how does that sound, hmmmm?"

a pout formed on your lips as you sighed. "...ill take it i guess."

REO

the clock has just passed midnight, but the party your boyfriend had invited you to was at its peak. enjoying the buzz of the alcohol that was once in your empty glass, you headed over to the bar.

"hey," you flagged the bartender down, "could i get a refill on this please?

the neon blue lights of the bar made the sparkle in his eye more evident when he caught sight of you.

"whatever the pretty lady wants," he brushed his fingers against yours when taking your glass. "what can i do for you?"

the brief contact and the intense eye contact quickly fought off the oncoming buzz. "the pretty lady is taken, but she is willing to forget about this if she could get a pornstar?" you offered.

"oh you can get a pornstar alright," he winked. "give me a sec, sweetheart."

alarm bells rang in your head as his back was towards you, meaning your glass was out of sight.

there was no way in hell you were gonna drink whatever he put in front of you.

he returned a short while after, sliding your drink across the bar.

"you know, if you wanted, i could give you another pornstar you'll really enjoy." he pulled back your glass when you reached out for it.

"no thanks. boyfriend." your smile came tight and fake.

"come onnnn, princess," he smiled wider. "aren't you having so much fun at this party? spend the night with me and i can make sure you can get into all the exclusive parties you want."

"she'll pass." came mikage's voice from your side. he wrapped an arm around you, in an attempt to smooth your tense muscles as he dragged the glass back over with two fingers.

the bartender's face hardened, "the lady can speak for herself, thanks bro."

"m' not your bro." reo's brows furrowed. "you're making my girl uncomfortable, did you put anything in her drink?"

the guy shook his head wordlessly, prompting reo to sip the glass.

"wait, what if-"

"don't worry, sweetheart," his hand dropped to stroke your thigh comfortingly. "it's clean, but I'm sorry this happened to you. i should've noticed sooner."

you relaxed with his touch, "it's not your fault, reo. sometimes people can't handle rejection."

"i'm right here ya know?"

two pairs of eyes stared the guy down, one neutral, one daring.

rolling his eyes, mikage turned to face the guy. "between you and me, you might need to find another bribe to pull ladies with because i can tell you now this will be the last gig you'll ever do."

the guy gulped under reo's intense gaze.

"alright man, in understand the ladys' taken, you don't need to go threatening my job."

"you threatened your won job once you tried it with her,"

you placed a hand on his arm as a reminder to be rational.

"i'm sorry baby," he pecked your forehead. "you ready to go home?"

you nodded.

[deepfivetraveller]

King Baldwin x Time!Traveler!reader

chapter 1

Chapter 2 here

Okay I’m a little new to writing romance so please take it easy on me. Btw I’ll try to keep y/n as neutral as possible but since this is set in the ancient era and religion is very important, y/n shall be hinted as being Hindu since that’s the only one that seems neutral in this situation.

“Alright that's all for the lesson. And since its complete I expect all of you to be thorough with ‘Life of King Baldwin iv’ during this weekend since there will be a test on this very topic next wednesday. Have a great weekend by the way.” The professor stands up and closes his laptop and all the other students start packing up.

“He had a pretty hard life didn’t he?” One of your friends chimes in. You look at her unsurprised. “You mean king Baldwins?”

“Duh! Poor man suffered an incurable disease almost his entire life! Imagine having skin infested in bacteria, euggh!” She recoils in disgust. “Imagine the cure to that disease being bacteria itself! Pretty sure Leprosy can be cured using multi antibiotic therapy.” Another friend joins in the conversation. You finished packing up your bag so you get up. “But no matter what, you gotta respect him. He never used his illness as an excuse to be a bad king.”

“That’s true….” Your first friend agrees. “He’s tough. When I catch a normal cold I give up all of my responsibilities since I’m sick. Wonder how hard it must have been for him.” All of you exit the classroom. A few minutes go by and topics have changed. A fun conversation lasted for a while before it was time to go, so you three parted ways.

As you entered your home your first thought was to take a cold shower after a long, hot and sweaty day. While eagerly hopping into the shower you get reminded of the conversation you had with your friends a while ago. What did king Baldwin even look like? There were no images in your textbook. Curiosity got the best of you, making you draw back the shower curtains to leave. You wrapped a towel and went towards the table where you kept your mobile, typed a quick ‘King Baldwin the 4th images’ and hit enter. Two images popped up. One being an actual painting from the 12th century while the other being an image reconstructed by scientists which looked…realistic to say the least.

His face in the second photo was majestic. His mouth and nose were almost non-existent, having only two triangular shaped holes instead of a nose. His skin was dry, withered and stretched while having the hue of a dry leaf during autumn. Even though he was severely disfigured his eyes were pure and bright, having a child like innocence towards them. King Baldwin was…Quite handsome.

Okay that’s enough now snap out of it! It’s probably just some AI prompt message image anyway. If anyone found out you found him handsome they’d call you crazy. Plus now is not the time to fangirl over a dead king, now's the time to study. In an attempt to distract yourself you pick up your books to do work. Hours painfully go by as you study but finally, finally it was bedtime. You could care less about eating dinner or even taking a shower, you plop yourself onto your bed and wrap the soft blanket around your body. Thoughts about King Baldwin strike your mind again. Seriously, what's wrong with you?! Why is this man plaguing your thoughts all day?

A sigh escaped your mouth from irritation. If only it was possible to console him for his losses or better yet, cure him entirely. The world would have been a better place if he had the lifespan of a normal man.

But there is no point thinking about this, time to go to bed now. As you try to go to sleep your body keeps doing the fake fall thing, annoying you to the core. And finally when your bodys heartbeat was steady and your breathing was quiet, your body did that fake fall thing again but this time it was actually a real fall.

Eyes widen as you try to grab onto the air to prevent your fall but of course, you fail. Adrenaline rushes through your veins for that split second before you finally make an impact on the cobblestone path?

Owch! That fall really hurt, especially at the back of your shoulders! You hope it’s not bruised there. But after that reality check, you look around only to find yourself in some village?

You can see a few small huts and buildings beyond the grassy field. Where are you? How are you here? Why are you here? Too confused and dazed from the fall, you try to look around for people for help. That is until a holographic screen with text pops up.

Congratulations Ms. Y/n. Your wish to cure King Baldwin has been approved by the ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. You are now at Jerusalem, Year: 1181.

“What?”

Yes it’s true Ms.Y/n, you really are in the 12th century.

Your blood is now boiling in anger. “Just because….Someone wishes pity over a dead king DOES NOT ACTUALLY MEAN THEY WANT TO CURE HIM!” You try to grab onto the screen to shake it vigorously but your hands go right thru.

Now now, let’s calm down and try to get over with this together I’m sure we’ll find a solution.

“Calm down…CALM DOWN?!?!?!? I’m in the middle of nowhere in Jerusalem during the 12th century and you want me to CALM DOWN???? I don’t even know French and not to mention I’M NOT CHRISTIAN!” You were screaming with your hand in the air. Pretty sure you woke someone up.

Y-Yes but that’s why I’m here. Don’t worry about communication, the language module for french had been uploaded into your brain while you fell here.

The screen flickers a little, maybe due to fear.

Uploaded knowledge? “But I’m a woman from the 21st century! I can’t live here! I’m wayy to accustomed to the privileges of my time!”

That’s one of my perks miss! By using currency of this time you may purchase products of your time thru me! The screen changes to an online store. For now you have access to basic necessities like food and clothes. As you complete missions you shall unlock other parts of the online market! The screens display brightness increases due to enthusiasm, convinced it has impressed you.

You however look at it in exasperated shock. “How is this even possible?” You say with dread in your voice. “Who sent me here?” You ask, no, demand.

Like I said You’ve been sent here by ₦ł₥฿Ʉ₴฿₳Ʉ₦Ʉ₴. I’m pretty sure you can’t read that since mortals don’t have the capacity to….

Mortals? Is this the play of some higher being? God even? Too many questions float through your head, making you visibly tired. You can feel the bottom of the skin beneath your eyes folding, an indicator you’re developing dark circles.

Ah. It looks like you’re tired. It’s night anyway. You should sleep.

“But where do I-”

“Excuse me madam.” You turn around to see a man standing behind you. “I’ve noticed you’ve been talking to yourself.”

So he can’t see the screen. From his ragged outfit he seems to be a commoner. He also genuinely seems worried so you guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask for help.

“Yes, sorry for that.” You say embarrassingly while you get up. “You see I’m from the family of wandering traders, here to sell spices from my land. I was talking to myself since I was quite irritated at how I didn’t have an inn for the night.” The explanation seems responsible enough I guess.

“But I don’t see any goods with you… And how did a young lady such as yourself travel alone? Where is your husband?”

Crap. He’s doubting you. You need to give him a reasonable explanation fast or he’ll call you a witch or something.

“Oh no sir you’re mistaken! My father is the one who has the spices, it’s his business after all. We had to split ways during travel due to inconveniences, I’m merely here to help him!” You put on your best smile to convince him.

“O-Oh I’m sorry madame! H-Here let me lead you, I know an Inn nearby.” Good. Looks like he believes you. But now it’s your turn.

“I’m sorry sir but how can I trust you?” You step back a little. “What if you take advantage of me? How shall I testify my innocence? The locals would definitely believe you over me.”

“No no please don’t! I’m a married man. My wife’s right there.” he points at the lady standing just outside the house, looking worried. You look at her and she nods her head in reassurance. “You seem like a noble from your land madame judging from your colorful dress, why don’t the both of us show you where the inn is?”

Hmm….Guess colorful clothing is rare here. And he really does seem like he wants to help.

“Very well then. Both of you show me they way.” The man eagerly tells his wife the incident and both of them show you around. The screen follows you, showing you a winking emoticon.

Congrats Ms. Y/n! You have officially begun your first mission!

[tiredfox64]

HIIIIIIII ur works r sooo good i read them one by one before going to sleep im tellin ya anyways do u still do requestss?? If u do,can i request kunglao x gnreader where we suck kung lao off under a table while hes talking to raiden????? Its fine too if reader n kunglao switched

Hush Hush Never Tell

Yip notes: Guess my works were your bedtime stories XD. Also how did you freaking know I wanted to do a concept like this??? And You picked Kung Lao I've been wanting to give him some love.

Pairing: Kung Lao x Gn reader

Warnings‼️: NSFW, Oral sex (both receive)

You sat on Kung Lao’s lap with your arms wrapped around his neck and your lips smothering his. A steamy make-out session was at play. You had Kung Lao all hot and bothered from the beginning.

He hadn’t seen you since he went to the Wu Shi Academy. He knew he had to focus on his training but his mind would wander to the thought of you. He would think about holding you and kissing you from head to toe. He would imagine how your skin would feel against his and where your hands would wander. Then you came for a visit. Finally, he got to spend time with the love of his life. And maybe he could get rid of that inner frustration that had been building up since the last time he saw you.

He was very grabby today. He squeezed wherever he could. You both grew more and more desperate to the point you started grinding on his lap. You heard his breathing grow heavy and he began to whimper. Oh yeah, things are getting spicy. Nothing could ruin this moment.

Knock! Knock! Knock! FUCK!

Both of you heard Raiden calling for Kung Lao. You didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, you acted quickly. Your first instinct was to slip off of Kung Lao and hide under the table. Luckily the other side of the table was covered so no one would be able to see you were down there, only Kung Lao. Since he wasn’t answering Raiden decided to walk in. Kung Lao scooted his chair into the table more to prevent his friend from seeing his rock-hard boner. The only hint that something was going on was the slight blush on his face.

You heard some of their conversation. Raiden asked where you were, and Kung Lao had to lie by saying you were out for a walk. Little did the champion know that you were close by. This conversation might go on for a long time so you might as well get comfortable and have some fun.

When you looked forward you realized that your boyfriend's boner was not going down. It was pushing up against his pants. You knew it was uncomfortable for him so you decided to help him out a little. There was already a reaction from him. His hand went down to hint at you to not do that but did you listen? Fuck no! You’ve wanted to do this for a long time and now was your chance.

When you pulled down his pants his cock sprang out. Clearly it was happy to see you too. You saw the droplets of precum at the tip. It began to drip down and you took the chance to lean it and lick it up. Kung Lao’s eyes changed from a wide-eyed panic to half-lidded. His eyes rolled back a little before correcting.

“Are you alright, Kung Lao? Are you ill?” Raiden asked, believing his friend was suffering from something.

“Ah yeah…yeah I’m perfectly fine.” He lied through his teeth.

He tried to close his legs to prevent you from doing anything else but it was useless. You placed yourself between his legs. You were gonna have your fun right now.

You began to leave kisses all over it. They were gentle but it had an effect on Kung Lao. His nostrils were flaring up and he didn’t know where to put his hands. You gave him little licks on his tip. You’re killing him with your teasing. He wanted to thrust his hips but that would bring too much attention. Seeing how his legs jittered gave you the hint and you gave him what he wanted. Your tongue began to swirl around his tip.

Kung Lao’s hands were going crazy trying to keep himself under control. One of his hands was scratching at the table while the other was concealing his mouth just in case he couldn’t hold in any moans. Raiden suspected something was up but didn’t ask. He decided to go on and on about what they needed to do in regards to training. Kung Lao was not taking anything in. All he was thinking about was how good you were making him feel. You grew braver as this went on so you decided to take him all in. He felt your tongue slide down as your warm mouth surrounded his cock.

You’re gonna be the death of him.

He let out a whine and he began shaking a little. Raiden noticed and had to ask since Kung Lao was acting very strangely.

“What is the matter? You are not yourself.”

Kung Lao had to think quickly. What did he decide to say?

“…hungry…” Good thinking, it’s realistic.

Raiden sighed before saying, “Typical. Fine, I will leave you be so you can get yourself food. But once you are done we must discuss our training routine.”

Raiden walked out of the room and Kung Lao immediately got to work. You felt his hands grab onto your head before he stood up. It all happened so fast. You felt his cock go deeper down your throat, causing you to gag a little. He thrusted in and out of your mouth. He was a panting and whimpering mess.

All your teasing made him sensitive. Combined with the fact he had jerked off this whole time even when he so desperately wanted to he was incredibly sensitive down there. If Raiden didn’t leave in time he probably would have came right in front of him.

His cock abused the back of your throat while his fingers grabbed at your hair. His pelvis bumped into your nose multiple times. You began to drool from the inability to swallow in time and the constant movement in your mouth. You felt him twitch and he began to moan. One more thrust and you felt his cum flow down your throat. He was pent up for a long time so there was a lot going down. You had no choice but to swallow it all. That orgasm was needed. He was shaking and sweating. He didn’t even realize the top half of his body was leaning on the table.

He slipped his cock out of your mouth before sitting back down. His head went back and you could see his chest rising up and down a lot from his heavy breathing. Your mouth was a mess. A mess of saliva and cum that was slipping down your lips.

You crawled out from under the table and began to stand up before feeling Kung Lao pick you. He placed you on the table and took your pants off in one fell swoop. He parted your legs before giving you a smile.

“Now’s my turn.” He did say he was hungry. Time to dig in.

His face was between your legs in seconds. Gosh, you forgot how impressive his tongue was. Swirling around and making it a wet mess down there. His lips felt like heaven. They are wonderful for kissing and giving kisses down there. You couldn’t close your legs since his hands were spreading them apart. Good luck trying to fight him, he’s too strong and hungry for you.

Your back rested against the table since you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself up. Your head hung off and you were trying your hardest to be quiet. Your legs began to shake and you tried to push Kung Lao’s head away from down there. He didn’t budge and that orgasm hit you like a brick. Your hands went from his head over to your mouth to cover it. Your moans were muffled but could still be heard by him. Prideful bastard, he loves hearing you moan for him.

You sure made a mess on his face. Kung Lao got on top of the table and crawled on top of you. His lips latched onto yours and you both got a taste of each other. When he pulled away you saw the mess you made but also the large smile on his face.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” He’s such a sweetheart, right?

Yap notes: I saw slugs this morning and that's cool. Not important but it's important to me. My cat finally came out and asked for pats and I told her I had to finish but nooo she needs pats. Now she is sleeping nearby. If only I could have my dog come near but he is moody right now. OH RIGHT THIS IS A FANFIC I GOT SIDETRACKED. I mean what can I say Kung Lao is a cutie patootie. And he has a big appetite like me when I'm not anxious. What am i gonna do for dinner? Adiós!

[raikkxz]

WALK HIM LIKE A DOG 4 — JB22 .ᐟ.ᐟ

ᯓ ˚₊➷ ❛. . . in which sebastian vettels sister gets her dream job to work along with him, but stumbles across an infamous playboy ❜ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

★ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃﹕﹙ yes/no - here ﹚ — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒﹕﹙hungover reader, purpose use of lowercase letters only, use of y/n, i'm lowk not very sure, probably not proof read well, lmk if there's anything i missed!!﹚ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆[s]﹕﹙jenson button 22 x f!vettel!reader﹚ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓﹕﹙not much. like at all.﹚ ★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙yall i need requests im out of ideas﹚

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YOU WOKE UP with a pounding headache. you could hear your alarm going off. groaning, you turned over in your bed to turn off the alarm. but to your surprise, you accidentally bumped into jenson, who seemed to have fallen asleep in your bed last night, instead.

jenson stirs, eyes opening half-way. "..morning." he murmurs sleepily. "how'd you sleep, love?"

*furrowing your eyebrows, you stammer." "..did i- did we- why are you-?"

"relax, darling." jenson hums. "you drank a *little* too much last night. and no, we didn't do any of the sort. you didn't answer my question."

"i slept.. well, i have a bad headache." you groan, laying back.

"stay her, ill get you more water." jenson assures you, getting up. he leaves the room and head to the kitchen to see sebastian there. jenson raises his eyebrows.

"good morning to you too. did you and my sister..?"

"no no no, it's not like that." jenson mumbles. "shes hungover as fuck, i was just.. taking care of her, alright?"

sebastian gives him a suspicious look, but shrugs it off as he leans on the counter, sipping his coffee.

"uhh, so do you and y/n live together?" jenson asks as he fills up a glass of water.

"oh no, im just staying with her for the time being until the next race comes up." sebastian says.

"ah, nice, i see." jenson nods before going back to your room. "hey, you alright?"

"yeah, i think.." you mumble, drinking your water. "my stomach feels like the insides are all twisted up."

jenson chuckles softly. "rest more, love. you need it."

you lay there for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling with jenson next to you.

"..hey, jense?" you ask after a few minutes.

"yeah?" he responds immediately.

"thank you." you mumble, turning to him. "thank you for taking care of me."

jenson smiles, pushing your hair away from your face. "anything for a pretty girl like you." he teases.

you laugh, nudging him playfully. "you're a dick."

"oh c'mon, you love me!" jenson grins.

"i do." you giggle.

jenson looks at you tenderly, his eyes filled with adoration.

"augh, this is worse than cramps." you grumble, twisting and turning in bed. you take another sip of water. jenson pushes the hair away from your face, making sure it didn't get in the way. you smile, appreciating the gesture.

"did i do anything.. *weird* last night?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"does dancing like crazy count? to be fair, i've met many people who've done that, so i don't know if that falls into the 'weird' category." jenson teases. you laugh softly, your head falling back.

"i suppose not, but my dancing is definitely crazy." you say jokingly.

"nah, you're definitely better than me." jenson laughs.

"..thanks again, jense. you're an amazing friend." you hum.

jenson smiles, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes.

you furrow your eyebrows. "is something wrong?"

jenson purses his lips, looking away. "somewhere along the way, you became more than just a friend. i can't keep pretending i love you only as a friend."

★ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎﹕﹙i tried adding more dialogue but like i said im out of ideas smhh. i might discontinue the series atp 😭﹚ ౨ৎ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓﹕ ﹙@gray4youuu @c-losur3 @ujws5 @namgification @faithshouseofchaos @isurvived3-11andimproud @somebodyonce-toldme @44lewico﹚

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notes, comments, reblogs, feedback and follows are greatly appriciated!

!! PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON OTHER WEBISTES/APPS OR COPY MY ORIGINAL WORK !!

[piastrinorris]

What Are Friends For?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: Stranger Things (series), 18+ (MINORS DNI), oral (m receiving), handjob (m receiving), masturbation (f receiving),

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: A late night post-Truth or Dare chat with your best friend has you admitting your own lack of experience, sexually. Thankfully, he's more than happy to tutor you.

A/N: finally got inspo for one of my wips! just another 12 to go 🙃

As Nancy and Robin work together to drag a near-catatonic Eddie out of Steve's living room, you nudge the party’s host’s foot with your own. “Alright, Harrington, truth or dare?”

He chuckles, “Seriously? Still? We’re the only two people left, right now.”

You shrug, “’M not ready to go home, yet. Unless you’re really willing to turf out your best friend onto the cold, dark streets of Indiana?” You look at him, doe-eyed, and he laughs again.

“Okay, fine, I’ll bite. Truth.”

“Who’d you lose your V-card with?” you ask plainly, and Steve, halfway through a sip of his drink, chokes on it.

“What the hell! Remind me who it was that insisted on the ‘nothing sexual’ rule when we started playing?” he sputters out.

You shrug, “Around the others, sure, but I’m curious. It’s like, the one thing we never talk about.” 

Steve sighs in defeat. “It was… Tina Langdon. At that party on the last day of sophomore year. The one you wouldn’t go to.”

“Couldn’t,” you correct him, “I was ill, remember?”

He scoffs, “Please, you were fine all day, you can’t fool me, you just chickened out!”

“This isn’t about that,” you shake your head, feeling yourself get flustered.

Steve grins slowly. “Yeah, it is! I know you, you were getting some heavy hints from… Who was that guy, oh my god, this is gonna bug me…” He falters, rubbing his jaw in thought.

"Greg Patowski," you mutter.

"Greg Patowski," he repeats in a reminiscent tone, shaking his head and looking up as he waves his finger up and down. "Alright, 'fess up, your turn now. Who was yours?"

Your cheeks burn hot. "Steve!"

He grins wickedly at you. "C'mon, dishing out what you can't take? That's not like you! You started this!"

After a moment, you bashfully murmur, "It was… It - you just…" Steve still looks at you with anticipation, so you blurt out, "It was Greg, okay?!" He scoffs in disbelief. "He - it was that night, too, actually. He came over from the party to 'check on me', we made out on my bed, it… went further. He was in the room and out again within ten minutes," you admit with a scowl.

Steve's jaw drops in shock. "Are you serious?!" You nod. "Who el-"

"No! My turn to ask now." You take another moment to compose yourself before asking, "W-what's your favourite, like, part of it?"

"Sex?" he asks, and you nod. He blows a long breath out before eventually answering, "Probably the stuff before it. Like head, god. Giving it? Hell, yeah. Getting it? I swear, I don't care what else happens," he throws his head back and smiles wistfully.

Shuffling in your seat, you ask, "H-how did you know what to do?"

"Hm?" Steve asks, and you die a little internally as the thought of repeating yourself, though it seems as though he's heard you. "Oh, well, Tina was, as you know, the grade above us, so she was already more… Experienced, and that helped a lot. She pretty much told me where to go and what to do." He shrugs. 

You're already nervous enough about having to explain yourself to him, when Robin and Nancy reappear at the doorway. "Hey," Nancy calls, making you jump. "Uh, we threw Eddie into one of the guest rooms. Rob and I are just gonna head home, now."

Steve frowns, "You carried him all the way upstairs? I could've done that for you!"

Robin glares at him from under her brow. "What, because two poor, defenceless young women couldn't handle it on their own?" She gives you a look which you silently translate and respond by punching Steve in the arm, which makes Robin laugh, "Nice. See you kids around!"

"Night!" Nancy calls after her before they both head out the front door.

Steve rubs his arm and pokes your shoulder. "So, Jumpy McPuncher."

"Good one," you deadpan, and he laughs.

"C'mon, spill. What's got you so worked up?"

"Well…" you start hesitantly. "You know I was telling you about the guy who's been kinda flirting with me at work?" Steve nods. "I was, uh, thinking of asking him out, but then I was thinking about the bigger picture, and how eventually that's gonna lead to - to, y’know, possibly sleeping with him, and I was wondering how to make it… Enjoyable, since I don't really know how to…" you falter through the end of your sentence, and Steve frowns.

"You've… Been with others since Greg, right?" You shake your head, and he looks at you incredulously. "What?! You've dated people since then!"

"Dated, sure, but I'd make up some shit about not being ready for a commitment before it got to that point," you admit quietly. 

Steve nods slowly, with a thoughtful frown. "Okay. So… You wanna learn how to please a guy?" You nod bashfully and his nod quickens as he hops up onto the couch you'd been leaning against. "Alright."

You look at him in confusion. "W-what are you -?"

He takes some pillows off of the couch and hands them to you. "For your knees," he explains.

"Are you…?" You ask quietly.

"Offering myself as your test dummy? Sure, if it'll help you out," Steve's reply is so casual. "That is, of course, if you want, don't feel like you have t- oh, okay," he smirks as you tentatively unbutton his jeans.

You snap your hands back into your lap in embarrassment. "Oh, sorry, did you want to do that?"

"No, no, if… If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, we really don't have to," he studies you with concern, but you shake your head.

"No, I… I want to. This is the best case scenario, right? I can learn, and not worry about disappointing - not that I don't care what you think, but like, you're you, you know?"

He smiles warmly. "Sure am, and you're you. And I'll guide you on what to do, but you gotta be confident with it, 'kay? Just get going with it, and don't take it personally if I tell you to do something a little different, alright?" You nod, and once again reach to undo his jeans. He shuffles them down to his thighs, and you can see a noticeable bulge in his underwear. "You wanna take it out, or me to, or not yet?"

"Can I…?" You clear your throat, remembering what he just said about confidence. "Can i just touch it over…?" You hold your hand to hover just over his crotch area and he smiles with a nod. The affirmation is oddly calming as you start palming him, and he hums out a soft moan.

"That feels nice," he muses. "Nice and gentle."

He keeps humming with delight as he watches you, and you notice something as you keep palming him. "You're getting hard, already."

"Doesn't take much, right?" he smirks. "Plus, you're doing so well, there."

"I, um… I know you're saying I should take things at my own pace, but I don't wanna take too long, should I take it out now?"

"Go for it," Steve mutters under his breath, still smiling.

You reach beneath the elastic of his underwear, take his shaft in your hand and move it out into view. Your eyes widen and your jaw drops when you see the size of it. "You, uh, you're much bigger than Greg Patowski."

He chuckles, "Good to know. Still wanna keep going?"

You nod, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah. So, what do I do from here?"

"Whatever you feel like doing," he shrugs. "You can use your lips and kiss it, or use your tongue and lick it, or you can get straight onto putting it on your mouth. I promise you, as long as it feels good for you, it's gonna feel good for me, too."

You study his member for a few seconds before tentatively licking along his length. He lets his head loll against the back of the couch. "Oh, god, yes. That feels so good. Mmm, and you look good doing it, too," he muses as he looks at you. You look up at him and chirp in questioning affirmation, and he bites his lip. "So good. You know, if you really wanna tease them, you can push your whole mouth against it without wrapping your lips arou- oh, fuck, just like that," he groans as you lean into your motions.

You sit back on your heels to frown, "But if I do that, there's still so much that I can't fit."

"So there is," he raises his eyebrows. "Why don't you try spitting into your hand and getting to work on the rest of it?"

After spitting into your palm, you smirk up at him. "Oh, you want me to get to work?"

He's about to give you an equally smug response when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and start working it. "Fuck, yes, there you go, just keep touching m- mmfff," he moans. "God, see? You're a natural."

Still stroking him, you experimentally run your tongue around his swollen mushroom tip, to which he grips the cushions next to him oh-so tightly. You finally wrap your lips around his member and sink down onto it as much as you can.

He moans so loudly that he brings the couch cushion up to his mouth to bite down on it. It makes you instinctively hum around his cock, which makes him squirm and whine more. You pull back again to look up at him in awe, and he asks, "What? Surprised that I'm moaning, or that you're able to make me?

"A little of both," you admit bashfully, and he sits back, spreading his legs further as he leans back. 

"Well, when you're doing such a good job, of course I'm gonna," he smirks.

"S'pose I've got a good teacher, huh?" You raise your eyebrows as you jerk him off.

He shakes his head, "Can't take credit for that, baby, this has all been you. Though, if you want a little guidance, why don't you try sucking your cheeks in while you're down there?"

You happily take him back into your mouth, revelling in his moans as he encourages you. Every ounce of praise he gives you tingles that shoot to your core, and every instance of him calling you a good girl has you light-headed.

You try and sneak your hand between your thighs, but it doesn't go unnoticed. With a chuckle, Steve asks, "You good?"

You whine, "Y're not… Th'only one who's… Enjoying this."

His smug expression stretches into a full-blown grin. "Yeah? You wanna touch yourself? Go ahead."

"Is this good? The right thing to do?" You ask as you reach inside your panties, face melting with pleasure as you finally make contact with yourself.

"Fuck, yes, baby, you look so fucking hot down there, getting yourself off to - what is it, huh? You like the praise? The moans? Or do you just really like having my cock in your mouth?"

That's the real answer, right at the end. You've never especially wanted to get this intimate with anyone, not even that one flirty customer you'd thought about asking out, but now there's only one person you ever want to be thus close with.

But he's your best friend. He's doing this in the name of helping you overcome your anxieties, that's all. You can't jeopardise what you've got with him.

"All of it," you whimper out, briefly looking over to glance at his fingers to allow yourself to imagine them as you sink your own inside you, getting back to sucking him off, making sure you hollow your cheeks every now and again like he told you.

With his moans, you lose yourself in the moment of imagining him touching you that as you hook your fingers inside of you, you instinctively keel over, sinking yourself further down on his cock. Steve lets out a long, stuttered groan at that. "Fucking shit, baby, y'almost got me in whole, god, wanna fuck the rest of me into you, too." You whine around him and he tuts, "Don't think you're ready for that, yet. You're gonna gag, and I don-"

You push yourself even further down, trying desperately to ignore your gag reflex, and he throws his head back to moan, "Fuck, yes, good girl! Such a good girl, taking all of that fucking cock, and holding it there, all while touching yourself, fuck. You're so hot, y'know that? Oh, fuck, baby, you need to breathe, c'mon," he reminds you softly, pushing you away. "That's it, oh, look at all that drool," he simpers, wiping the spit from your chin.

"Do… Do people like that? Seeing all… This?" You gesture towards your face, and he shakes his head.

"Don't know, don't care, doesn't matter. I fucking love it," he groans as you wrap your hand around his shaft again, stroking him all the way from base to tip. "Oh, shit, you really are a fucking natural at getting me off, baby. You gonna get us both off at the same time, yeah?" You nod, and his face contorts with his impending climax. "Fuck, get that mouth back on me, I wanna feel your moans against my cock coax the cum right outta me."

Not needing to be told twice, you happily comply, making sure you try to moan around him as much as possible. He strains out another moan, gasping out, "Fuck, so… So proud of you, look at you. Taking me so well, looking so fucking good touching yourself. Such a good little student, 'm gonna teach you so much more. How a real man eats you out, how a real man fucks you, fuck, so much for you to learn. Y'want that, baby? Tell me. Tell me with my fucking cock in your mouth."

"Wan' y'to hh-fuck me, hh-so bad," you whine, not moving, and he groans.

"You're so fucking cute when you talk with your mouth full, baby. Aww, you gonna do it? You gonna make me cum in that pretty little mouth of yours?" he groans, and you rub at your clit rapidly. "That's my good girl, fuck, look up at me with those eyes, so sweet, so sexy, while you get us both off, c'mon, baby, you can do it, atta girl."

The impending desperation in his tone mixed with his words finally sends you over the edge, moaning shrilly around his cock as you feel your orgasm press deeper than anything's ever felt before. You practically see spots as you squirt all over your fingers, trying desperately to stay focused on keeping Steve's cock in your mouth long enough to take all of his load, swallowing everything as he gives it to you.

He breathes deeply as he comes down from his high, smiling blissfully as he sits forward, cradling your face in his hands. His large, thick-fingered hands. He licks his lips to speak when the wet patch on the pillow you'd been sitting on distracts him. "Holy shit, did you squirt?!" You look up at him and shrug, and he strokes his thumbs against your cheeks. "From now on, I'm making that happen for you, 'kay?"

"So, you meant it? You'll keep teaching me?" You ask hopefully.

"In a ways," he shrugs. "I'll keep showing you what real pleasure feels like… But not for some… Guy who shows up at your work sometimes. Sure as shit not for some Greg Patowski type. I'm. Here to please, you. Got that?" 

You nod, licking your lips, a hint of a smile tickling at you. "Real hung up on Greg still, huh?"

"Yeah, well, it should've been me," Steve admits. "I wanted to make my move that night, but then Patowski bounced early, and everyone was talking about how he was bragging about how he was gonna seal the deal with you. And so, my young and stupid self went and drowned my sorrows with Tina."

You chuckle softly. "You know, when I heard knocking at my window that night, I really hoped it would be you. Always dreamt of you sneaking in through my window and having your way with me. But I like this better."

"You do?" he asks, leaning closer.

"Yeah. You were right, about getting with someone with more experience." You shuffle yourself closer to him, further between his legs, letting go your arms rest around his hips. "'Cause now you've definitely ruined other men for me."

He grins, pulling you up and scooping you I to his lap before grabbing you by the back of your neck and kissing you fervently. "You wrecked me a long time ago, baby. Glad to see you're finally catching up."

[tj-dragonblade]

[FIC] Past the Wit of Man (or, Bottom's Dream)

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: M Word Count: 3657 Tags: comedy, attempted comedy, comedy devolving into feels, identity reveal, sex worker Hob Gadling, advancing my Men In Lingerie agenda, long-haired Hob Gadling agenda, stretching timelines like taffy, Desire and Dream get along AU, but Desire is not actively in this, Dead Boy Detectives comic spoilers mentioned, miscommunication, Dream of the Endless finally uses his words, happy ending

Notes: Kudos props and huge thanks to everyone in the Mr Sadman discord who creatively interpreted a snippet I posted of something else and launched the whole idea of Hob working for a supernatural escort service; this would not exist without y'all and your beautiful brainstorming. ❤️

This fills the August monthly @dreamlingbingo prompt Identity Reveal, replacing square A2 (creature: Veela) on my bingo card

Summary: Hob is nicely settled in a new career and a new identity and does not expect to see his Stranger until 2089. The universe, apparently, has other ideas.

On AO3

~ "Your client is Dream of the Endless. He is extremely ancient and extremely powerful, an underpinning concept of the universe. Absolutely terrible about loosening up and letting himself relax."

"Don't think I'd be much good at relaxing if I was an underpinning concept of the universe either," Hob jokes, opening the profile that the Agency rep has just airdropped to his phone and thumbing through it.

The rep, a foppish vampire with curly white hair and impeccable fashion sense, arches one elegant eyebrow at him. "Apparently his most recent girlfriend dumped him quite harshly and his sibling has arranged this booking on his behalf; he's—and I am quoting here—'absolutely incompetent at managing his own happiness'."

"He knows he's been booked though, right? I'm not gonna catch the fallout because no one told him what kind of appointment this is?" It's only happened once, a prank played on a shy ace nixie by her well-meaning but ill-informed friends; all the same, Hob does not care to repeat the experience—particularly with someone potentially more dangerous.

"He is very much aware and in agreement, yes. We promised him our top companion." The rep dimples at Hob, a smile of saccharine sincerity that shows only the barest hint of fang. "And that's you, sweet Nick."

"And that's me," Hob agrees matter-of-factly, frowning at his phone, then turning it to show his guest. "No photo?"

The rep glances at the screen and makes a commiserative noise. "Oh, yes. Unfortunate, that. Cameras have a very hard time with this fellow, something to do with his general relationship to reality." His tone takes on a simpering air of great melodrama. "We were forced to use an artist's rendition instead! Tragic, really; it doesn't do him justice."

"Huh," Hob says, turning his phone back and studying the cartoony hand-drawn image. Guy looks like he's got some sort of steampunk insect for a head, dark and bolt-laden and bug-eyed, with a trunk that's strongly reminiscent of a disembodied spine. "Dream of the Endless, you said? Looks more like a bloody nightmare."

The rep gives an exaggerated roll of his shoulders, as if shrugging off his delivery duty now that it's done, and turns to leave. "Well whatever the case, an Endless is far above the average client, darling. Give him your best."

"'Course." Hob grins. "That's why you brought the assignment to me, after all."

"Just so." The Agency rep gives a lazy wave in parting and Hob closes the door, still scrolling through the profile as he makes his way to the kitchen.

"Dozens of titles and names", he murmurs, glancing through the list of them. "King of Dreams and Nightmares, alright. Contains the entire collective unconscious of every living being in. Every…universe…?" He shakes his head. "Has never taken a vacation ever. Bested Lucifer Morningstar and oversaw the reassignment of Hell—okay, wow. Billions of years old." He whistles, a long sound of awed disbelief. "Maybe I throw in a free massage for this guy; sounds like he could use it."

He shakes his head again, pockets his phone, carries on with getting breakfast together.

Bug-headed workaholic foundational concept of the universe. Won't be the weirdest client he's ever serviced.

~

It's been ten years since his stranger showed up late for their meeting and smiled so openly and named him friend. That had been their longest meeting yet, lasting all afternoon and on into the evening and it wasn't until the Inn had started closing up for the night that they wound down. His stranger had spoken briefly of the missed appointment in 1989, making clear that something at least mildly traumatic had kept him away and also that he did not wish to elaborate, and Hob had let it go. There was so much to tell of his own century past, his friend remarking with interest on a great many of his stories, and it was enough. His stranger, his friend, had come back, and they'd had a lovely long meeting. Perhaps in 2089 he would be comfortable sharing more of his own story, but even if not, Hob didn't mind. He was confident once more in the friendship he'd declared back in 1889 and willing to coax it out bit by bit, meeting by meeting. He had all the time in the world, after all.

Within a year of that meeting he'd wrapped up his teaching career, arranged for ownership of the New Inn to transfer to a 'relative' in the States who'd keep it running the next few decades, and started searching for a new career for his next identity.

He stumbled quite by accident into the broader supernatural world after being stalked by two dead teenagers helping that de Rais creep who wanted to steal his immortality. It all turned out fine in the end but opened Hob's eyes to exactly how much the supernatural had integrated into the modern world around him. And once old Hettie clued him in to the existence of a certain Service Agency catering to supernatural clients, his next career path was all but decided. What was he going to do, not seize the opportunity for fantastical sexual exploration when presented with it? Life was for living! Werewolves, vampires, sirens and fae and merfolk, the occasional ghost and even an extra-terrestrial or two; scales, feathers, tentacles, knots—Hob's shown them all a good time and earned a stellar reputation among the Agency's clientele. He doesn't plan to do it forever, but he enjoys exploring new avenues and stretching his limits and 'Nick Bottom' is the perfect persona to let him do so.

And now sweet high-priced in-demand Nick has been booked to rebound-fuck an uptight concept in humanoid form who looks like something straight out of a nightmare.

Hob can't wait to completely take this guy apart one orgasm at a time until he's a boneless puddle of satiation and send him home afterwards a brand new man.

Concept. Entity. Whatever.

~

The booking is scheduled for the following day and when the time comes, Hob is fresh and clean and set up in the Agency's most lavish suite. He's let his hair grow the last few years, sports a proper Hozier-like mane at this point, is wearing it down for this appointment. His beard is several weeks old, trimmed to artfully-scruffy perfection and well-groomed. He's lounging on the bed in a short open silk robe and a pair of lace panties that hug his hips and leave most of both arse cheeks exposed, a popular outfit in his repertoire sure to please the classiest of clients with the most discerning taste. Both pieces are a matching vibrant cobalt blue that complements his skin tone beautifully. He's wondering what fucking a concept is like, idly massaging his dick now and then to keep it primed, when finally there's a peculiar displacement of air and then a figure in dark robes with a weird spine-trunked bug-eyed head is standing in the middle of the suite. He's taller than Hob and inhumanly rail-thin; the robes plunge deep from the neckline, displaying milk-white skin without a hint of chest hair and clavicles that beg to be nibbled on. He's in profile, angled slightly away, and Hob has the distinct sense that this is a deliberate pose meant to make an impression, to instill awe and possibly fear in him.

So Dream of the Endless has a flair for drama, got it.

"Hello," Hob greets in his best breathless-and-sultry tone, rising from the bed to approach his client. He layers in a suitable amount of awe, pitching his voice toward 'smitten' with a subtle ring of sincerity to support it. "Oh, wow. You must be Dream of the Endless; I'm so delighted to get to meet you! I'll be taking care of you today; you can call me Nick."

The guy, the concept, Dream of the Endless, he goes stock-still as Hob speaks, and it's like the air in the room pauses with him. He turns, slowly, until Hob is face to face with his…oh, possibly that's a mask, then; the bug-eyed lenses are somewhat translucent in the light though Hob still can't see beneath them.

"There has been some mistake." The voice is deep and distorted through the helmet-mask, bone-rattling in an almost-pleasant way and, somehow, somewhat…familiar? "I was meant to be meeting with 'Nick Bottom'." The quotes around the name are audible.

"That's me!" Hob says, raking a hand back through his hair and shaking it to settle around his shoulders attractively, flashing his most charming smile. "At your service, love, whatever you need. I'm here to make sure you have a very good time, and—"

"Hob Gadling."

That draws him up short. He's currently Robyn Gadrin for tax-paying purposes in the outside world, but the Agency wouldn't give out his current identity let alone his true name, so how—

Hob's brain is babbling insistently about the note of familiarity in that voice and he finally lights on why as Dream of the Endless reaches up to remove his helmet.

Hob finds himself staring at the slightly-more-than-human-but-still-very-familiar face of his Stranger, his centennial touchstone, his friend.

Everything about his reality tips a little bit sideways, dominoes crashing one after the other in his brain until all that's left is that awful ringing alarm tone that features in emergency broadcast alerts on American telly.

Between them, the silence stretches awkwardly, until finally Hob breaks it, the first thing that comes to his tongue spilling out while his poor brain is still rebooting.

"Six-hundred some-odd bloody years, and this is how I learn your name?!"

~

It is five minutes later. Hob is sitting on the side of the plush bed in his short silk robe and lace panties, clutching a bottled water and seriously considering availing himself of the bar in the next room because his emotions are all over the place. His Stranger—Dream of the Endless, apparently—is seated next to him. His eyes are not the blue that Hob is used to, are fully black with actual stars winking in and out of them; it's gorgeous but uncanny. He's currently not looking at Hob, has got the weird bug-spine helmet gripped tightly in both hands. Which are still so pretty, Hob can't help noticing, his fingers longer and more spindly than normal, splayed wide around the curve of the helm, nails painted black. Or maybe not painted, maybe they just are black.

Pretty, regardless.

Not a helpful thought at this juncture.

It's not like he'd thought his Stranger was actually human, obviously, and okay yes the possibility of meeting up with him via this particular career choice had crossed his mind once or twice, might've featured in a private fantasy or two; but also he'd never seriously imagined it because it felt so entirely implausible that his prim and lofty Stranger would ever engage in something so mundane. So casual.

Apparently, Hob was wrong about that.

He's not sure how to feel about it, either.

The smooth inhumanly-pale chest on display in the plunging vee of those artfully-draped robes is also not helping anything.

His Stranger—Dream— moves slightly, glances at him with those starry eyes, flexes those pretty fingers on the helmet. "I will. Arrange. For another. To take your place, Hob, you need not—"

"Now hold on a minute," Hob interrupts, sudden direction presenting itself for his floundering emotions to flow. "What do you mean, 'arrange for another'? What's wrong with me?"

Dream, his name is Dream of the Endless, Dream looks perplexed. "Our. History—"

"Oh yes, our illustrious storied history wherein we have met all of seven times before now and, may I remind you, you took offense to my suggestion that we might be friends until you'd had time to digest it properly, yes."

"Eight."

"Eight?"

"I visited your dream, before undertaking a daunting journey from my realm to another. We shared wine. You gave a most thoughtful toast."

"I. Okay." He remembers that dream, yes; he remembers the wine that followed him out of it, and now with the knowledge that his Stranger is apparently King of all dreams and nightmares suddenly it all makes brand new sense. But he will process that later. "Eight. Still not a factor in my ability to do my job."

Mostly. It is his Stranger, after all, and it's not like he hasn't ever wanted—

"Sex would be. Awkward," Dream insists, and Hob loses it, never mind he'd half-thought the same thing until a second ago; Dream saying it makes him refute the assertion with everything he's got.

"You dare," he says, setting aside his water.

Dream boggles at him, cosmic eyes wide, mouth slightly parted.

"You. DARE. To disdain my professional services just because we know each other?!"

"Hob— "

"No. No, your booking was very clear that you were to have the very best, and that. Is. Me. So you will not be re-booking with another companion on the grounds that our acquaintance makes it 'awkward'; if you mean to partake of the services you've hired you will partake of them with me."

"My sibling."

"What."

"My sibling hired your services. Did they know—" He's half talking to himself and Hob sighs, forcefully pulling the conversation back on track.

"Yes, right; your sibling booked you and here you are. Did you want to get laid today?"

"You need not be so crude about it."

"Forgive me. Of course. Did you come here hoping to have a sensual skillful sexual experience with a stranger intent on your pleasure with no judgments or expectations placed upon you in return?" He makes a valiant effort to rein in his sarcasm. "Because I can still provide that. Minus the bit where we're not strangers."

Dream looks positively miserable, a sodden wet cat of a man in sex-appeal robes hunched on the edge of the decadently-plush bed, and there is certainly an understandable element of embarrassment to the situation but Dream is taking it so seriously. Hob is not surprised, exactly, but christ—he's more than willing to follow through never mind any feelings he may or may not want to admit to, and Dream is the one who'd agreed to the booking in the first place. You'd think he could handle this hiccup with a little more grace.

"It was my intent to. Do, as you say," Dream says at last, and Hob sighs.

"Is that still what you want, then? I promise I'll take good care of you." He's actually really warming up to the idea, not that he was cold to it to begin with. It's his Stranger after all. He's been willing to say yes for centuries. "They really did book you the best, and I would love to show you how well-earned my reputation is—"

"Hob—" Dream sounds pained, gives an artfully-dramatic shake of his head. "My wants are. Manageable. If no one else is available. I cannot simply engage with you so frivolously—"

Hob leaps up from the bed, stalks a frustrated few steps away and whirls back, spreads his arms. "Am I not appealing to you, Dream of the Endless?" He tosses his head, shakes his hair back, gestures at the blue silk and lace that he knows looks absolutely spectacular on him. "Would you like me to change clothes? I have a dozen more ensembles I'd be happy to put on if you'd rather peel me out of one of those. Would the Prince of Stories prefer roleplay? Golden-age pirate, biker bad boy, Mr. Darcy or Elizabeth, cowboy, librarian, Starfleet officer—I'll dress however you like." He's fired up, he's…it feels like anger but it's more like alarm; he is absolutely not about to let a colleague fuck HIS Stranger if Dream's looking to unwind. Not with all the thoughts he's entertained the last couple centuries, not when Dream is looking so entirely miserable about the whole experience. Hob wiggles his bare toes in the plush carpet, forcing a deep breath; he is jealous and possessive and protective all at once and has no idea how to safely navigate this storm to get Dream what he wants without pissing him off.

"Your…clothing becomes you greatly, Hob." He's sneaking a glance as he says it, like he's not allowed to look but can't help it. "Your clothing is not at issue."

"Then what is?" Hob rakes a hand back through his hair, frustration fizzling, careening toward concern. "If you're truly that put off by me, I'll let it go. But you're here, for sex, which you did say you wanted; this is my job and I'm good at it and you clearly need—" Someone to take care of you, he'd nearly said, and while Dream has been giving him so much leeway in this conversation he thinks that might be one straw too much for this particular camel's back.

Nice to know he appreciates Hob's hairy chest and his dick in blue lace, though.

Dream levels him with a look that almost puts him right back to 1889, and Hob has half a second to start panicking before Dream closes his eyes, draws himself up, sets his bloody weird helmet on the bedside table with a soft leathery clunk. When he opens his eyes again, they are resolute, resigned, the eyes of a man headed for the gallows despite the stars winking hopelessly in their depths.

"I do not wish to be intimate with you. When you view it as simply a job. I. Would like—but not. If it is a transaction. If I am merely a client."

Oh. Oh.

Oh shit, really?

Impossible.

Really?

"You want. You want it to mean something?" Hob is embarassed at how small his voice comes out.

Dream closes his eyes, something like shame written all over his beautiful otherworldly-pale face. "I had thought. At our fifth meeting. That perhaps there was the possibility of. Attraction, between us." He opens his night-sky eyes again, meets Hob's resolutely. "Had we not been interrupted…" He shakes his head. "I pondered the idea until next we met, anticipating the possibility of. Seeing, where we might have come to. But you named what was between us friendship, you named me lonely; I perceived your words as mockery and acted accordingly. I spent the next century with a surplus of time to wander my own thoughts. They turned to you, Hob Gadling, with regularity. As I expressed when last we met, I regret leaving our previous meeting so abruptly, so harshly. Your friendship is of great value to me. I am content to let it remain friendship, in the interest of keeping it. But I am unwilling to engage with you, who named me 'friend', as I would a lover when I have yet to fully bury the wish. That you might have been my lover in truth."

Hob is desperately trying to keep from bluescreening again and while he's focused on that, his mouth runs along without him. "You never even gave me a name, but you wanted us to be lovers?"

"I am. Aware, of how foolish my wishes—"

"No, oh no. Dream. Love." He absolutely cannot let him think that. "All you ever had to do was ask."

Dream looks at him, starry eyes full of misery with the faintest spark of hope underneath, glimmering with unshed tears. "I. Could not—"

"That was then. Water under the bridge. What about now."

Dream shivers, his more-than-human face wary and pleading and resigned all at once and the last of the fight drains out of Hob. He approaches gently, until he is directly in front of Dream on the edge of the bed again; he half straddles Dream's lap with one foot still on the floor and a bare knee sunk on the mattress beside him, threads both hands into Dream's hair behind his lovely ears, tips his pale face up.

"Ask me now. Please."

Dream's hand settles above his bent knee, a gentle, tentative touch; his eyelashes flutter, and the sound that leaves him steals Hob's breath. That hand travels softly around to grip the back of Hob's thigh, slides hesitantly higher, and then it's Hob making the helpless noise as Dream's fingertips card beautifully through his leg hair, run up beneath the short robe. Dream's spindly black-nailed hand caresses up over his exposed arse cheek, squeezes, and all the while Dream's beguiling uncanny eyes are fixed on him, wet and wondering, full of blossoming hope.

"Hob Gadling." His voice is hushed, almost reverent. "I should like to have you, as my lover. If you are amenable." His face is tipped up, so close between Hob's hands, and Hob.

Hob's shaking. He's actually trembling, pent up, a little scared; daring, as he leans down and his hair falls around them both, hoping—

He brushes his lips to Dream's.

He kisses his Stranger, his friend, his touchstone.

And Dream of the Endless, who is all of those things, kisses him back.

It's nothing like he might have imagined, and ten times as wonderful, and over before he realizes he's ended it.

"Do you mean it." His voice is breathless, the words spoken directly against Dream's mouth. It's a stupid question, in light of the entire conversation gone before and the hand still on his arse, but he can't help asking. This entire turn of events is just too good to be true.

"Yes."

But true it is, apparently, and Hob's heart soars.

"Then. Dream of the Endless. My Stranger. My friend." He presses soft kisses to those plush pink lips between each moniker, dizzy that he's allowed. "Let me add another title to the list, darling. Take me to bed; the suite is ours 'til tomorrow. Let me learn how you would have me. Let me show you how I would treat you. And let me, at long last, name you mine."

= Started: 8/21/24 Drafted: 8/27/24 Posted: 8/30/24

If you're looking for a spicier take on this concept, @delta-pavonis has you covered: Dossier 54392 - please, give it a read, it's delicious.

(and here, have a post-script-y epilogue-exchange of sorts that did not quite fit:)

= "You chose to name yourself Nick Bottom?"

"What better name for a callboy to the supernatural than the bloke who got unwittingly embroiled in a fae lovers' spat and ultimately survived the entire encounter unscathed? Feels pretty relevant to me. Empowering, a bit?"

"Nick Bottom was less 'empowered' than simply lucky, perhaps."

"Perhaps. I'll not turn my nose up at good luck, either. But a name like Bottom in this business is also too good a pun to pass up, and I figure old Shaxberd would approve."

"I believe he would, indeed."

"The irony being that fully half of my clients want me to top them, heh."

"I do not wish to speak of your clients while you are in bed with me."

"Got better uses for my mouth, have you?"

"Other sounds I would prefer to hear from it, yes."

"Fair enough. Why don't you tell me what you want, Mr. Sandman, and see if I can make your dreams come true."

"Must you be so cliché?"

"You love my clich—mmph—"

"Stop. Talking."

"Yes love."

(Dream will tell him about commissioning A Midsummer Night's Dream at some other time 💖)

= Nick Bottom's lines from A Midsummer Night's Dream that lent themselves to the title: I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was and also The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream

[dearqueerheart]

sorry just let me infodump for one second, ok? ok.

epic the musical has me in a chokehold (spoilers ahead, PLEASE GO LISTEN if it seems like something you’d be into). and i was rethinking on the song Monster. specifically, the part where he begins to justify being cruel by comparing himself to the foes he’s faced. polyphemus, circe, poseidon (i 1000% think the order matters, ill get there in a second). and all of that just shows how his, like so many dangerously intelligent men in greek myths, big flaw is hubris. overwhelming hubris. he thinks that he’s allowed to be cruel because a cyclops, a witch, and a god are allowed to be cruel. he is just one of so many greeks who think they’re as good as — or even better than — the gods.

and there are hints of this throughout the entire show up until that point. he attempts (and succeeds in, after facing tragic losses) to deceive polyphemus by drugging him with the lotus fruit, believing that he is more powerful and intelligent than the cyclops. he tries to reason with poseidon after being asked by the sea god for an apology for blinding his son, but he does this in SUCH a manipulative way. poseidon tells him, “i won’t kill your men if you apologize to me,” and ody goes, “alright bet,” and gives him such an incredible non-apology (“poseidon, we meant no harm”). he is too fucking proud to apologize, and will attempt to MANIPULATE AN OLYMPIAN GOD in order to protect that pride. it’s wild.

he actually does successfully “defeat” circe, but only by literally begging her (“i beg you circe, grant us mercy”) to save his men and help him get home. he wins this fight because he puts his pride aside for once in his goddamn life, and rescues the scouting party because of it.

so here’s why the order matters in the song monster: he’s working himself up to comparing himself to an olympian. he doesn’t list his foes in chronological order. he lists them in amount of power and intelligence. if you just take what he’s saying at face value, he says “well, polyphemus was justified, and circe was justified, and poseidon was justified, then i must be, too!” but if you read deeper, he’s comparing his evil deeds to the evil deeds of people far more powerful and complicated and experienced than him.

in the thunder saga, both scylla and zeus manipulate this pride. scylla uses it to drop odysseus’ guard, inviting him to compare himself to her, and to find kinship with her, as they’re both “monsters” (“deep down, you know that we are the same”). and zeus tests his pride, to see how deep it fully goes, and possibly to reveal to odysseus himself how prideful he is. like poseidon and athena, zeus may be trying to teach odysseus a lesson, albeit significantly harsher than the latter. (“if i had to make you choose the lives of your men and crew or your own, why do i think they’d lose?”) it’s one of my favorite moments in that song, because it’s really just zeus pushing all of odysseus’ buttons to force him to make the choice that zeus wants him to make.

anyway that’s all. it’s just so cool and i have a lot of thinks!! i could make a whole essay just about the gods’ desire to teach odysseus but i’ll save that for another time.

[aventurineswife]

aventurine x reader!!: 🤍

req with hanahaki, but it’s a condition reader was born with {rather than the traditional unrequited love type of things, but aven doesn’t know that} basicallyyy: reader hides their condition from him, until one day aven finds out, and is worried it might be his fault

noticing how extra clingy he’s become, reader decides to ask him about it, he asks about their hanahaki, and we get cute fluffy ending <3

{basically chronically ill reader looking back on this, but hanahaki is very interesting :D}

hope you’re having a wonderful morning/evening/night <3 🤍🫧

“I won’t give up on us, even if the skies get rough”

Summary: You have been hiding a lifelong condition, Hanahaki Disease, from Aventurine. Though the disease isn't caused by unrequited love, it still manifests in the form of flowers growing your lungs. As Aventurine becomes more clingy and concerned about your health, you finally confess the truth. Aventurine, feeling a mixture of guilt and concern, vows to support you through your condition, offering comfort and care.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Hanahaki Disease, Chronic Illness, Fluff, Comfort, Emotional Support, Angst (with a fluffy ending), Established Relationship, Relationship Growth, Vulnerability, Healing, Sweet Moments, Caretaking

Warnings: Mild illness (Hanahaki Disease), mention of chronic conditions, light angst, feelings of guilt and concern, unrequited love not being the cause of the condition.

A/N: THIS ACTUALLY SUCH A GOOD PROMPT?! AND ALSO ORIGINAL TOO!! LIKE MAN I WAS DONE CRYING OVER CHARACTER GETTING THE DISEASE BECAUSE OF UNREQUITED LOVE!! ☹️💔

The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting soft, golden hues across your shared living space. Aventurine stands in the kitchen, flipping through a deck of cards absentmindedly, his gaze shifting occasionally in your direction. You’ve noticed how his attention seems to linger on you lately, how his glances feel like they carry a silent question he hasn’t yet voiced. And though he’s always been affectionate, his recent clinginess has you wondering if something’s on his mind.

Today, after all the little moments of unspoken worry and his fingers brushing your arm a little too often, you decide to bring it up.

"Aven, love,” you begin gently, meeting his gaze, “Is everything alright? You’ve been...extra close lately."

He hesitates, his ever-present smile faltering just slightly. "Ah, am I really that obvious?" He chuckles, but there's a hint of nervousness behind it. "It’s just...I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been coughing a bit more lately."

You freeze for a second, feeling your heart quicken. You’d tried so hard to hide your condition from him, carefully coughing petals into tissues, tucking them away when he wasn’t looking. Your condition was a lifelong burden, not caused by any recent heartache but simply part of who you are. But now it’s clear he’s been noticing more than you realized.

“Aven, it’s not... It’s not what you think,” you say softly, reaching out to take his hand. “I know what you’re thinking—that it might be because of you. But it’s not. It’s something I was born with.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Aventurine’s confident composure breaks entirely. He stares at you, brows furrowing, genuine worry and perhaps a bit of guilt swimming in his eyes. "You mean...this wasn’t something recent? You’ve...you’ve had it all along?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. "It’s always been there. The doctors don’t know why, but it’s just a part of me. I didn’t want to worry you, so I hid it."

He exhales, visibly relieved but still concerned. “You shouldn’t have hidden something so big,” he murmurs, brushing a hand through your hair, fingers gentle and affectionate. “I... I hate thinking of you going through that alone.”

His tone is soft, filled with a depth of emotion you rarely hear from him. "I just wanted things to feel normal," you whisper, resting your forehead against his. "But lately... it’s been harder to hide. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t trust you."

For a moment, he’s quiet, his hand slipping down to cradle your face, his thumb tracing gentle patterns against your cheek. “I’ll help you through this. You’re not alone in this anymore, you hear me?” His voice is resolute, his determination clear.

A small, hesitant smile finds its way onto your lips as you nod, feeling the weight of your secret lighten. “You really don’t have to...”

“Oh, but I do,” he insists, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and finally your lips. “I’m already envisioning ways we can handle it together. I’ll bring you tea every morning, make sure you rest more, and maybe bring a few cards to distract you when things get rough.”

You laugh softly at his playfulness, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. The tenderness in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you—it’s as if he’s promising to take on part of this burden just to keep you smiling.

“I’m lucky to have you.” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him.

He smiles, holding you close, his voice a gentle whisper in your ear. "And I’m lucky to have you, petals and all."

With Aventurine by your side, you realize that even the things you once saw as burdens feel a little lighter. The two of you, together, find comfort in each other’s embrace, knowing that no secret or struggle can stand between the love you share.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 15 all chapters

AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING

-You wake with a pounding head, and total uncertainty if your adventure the night before had all been a dream.

Did John actually tie you up with his belt? And did you beg like a hungry little kitten for his cock?

And he didn’t give it to you?

Jesus fucking Christ.

You know you’d sensed all along that there was something dark swimming beneath the surface in Mr. Wick, but you’re not quite sure this was what you expected.

You look down at the little purple bruise on the inside of your thigh, and you know it had all been real.

A hot flood of embarrassment fills you as you remember more from the night before. You are mortified, and frankly, a little scared. You’re not sure you can actually handle a man with tastes like Mr. Wick’s, and you also know that once you’re in his company again you won’t be able to think anything through, or frankly, deny him anything he wants.

He has this drug-like effect on you. You would like to blame the wine for the night before, but deep down, you know that mostly it was just hunger.

You could easily forget who you really are, caught up in the web of a man like John.

The first hint of morning light is peeking over the rooftops. You know that if you are going to make your escape, this is undoubtedly your best opportunity. You tie back on your shoes, preparing yourself for the worst walk of shame you’ve ever endured. Even with your new found flexibility, you are only able to get the zipper of your dress half up your back.

Motherfucker.

The morning concierge gives you a knowing look as you walk through the lobby, and you narrowly resist the urge to flip him off.

How ironic, that the day that you want to flee this beautiful city with your tail tucked between your legs, is the day you finally seem to get your bearings. You make your way back to your hostel, taking off your platforms and carrying them half way. When an early morning wanderer tries to hit on you, you finally snap, yelling at him in a mixture of English, Spanish, and broken Italian, so furious that he’s actually the one who flees. You catch the word pazza, which you think means crazy.

He has no idea.

When you get back to the hostel, hallelujah if the fucking door isn’t unlocked this fine morning. How novel.

Your beautiful dress is wrinkled from sleeping in it. You hang it up anyway, and hope no one steals it. You pound two Aleve from your toiletry bag with some stale water, and think a hot shower might fix some of your ills.

Too bad the water heater is only set to tepid. You wash away the grime, but not your anxieties.

You go to breakfast, completely stuck in your own head, when you hear, “Y/n?”

You look up to see Javi sitting at one of the tables with a cornetto and a cup of the weak coffee the hostel provides for free.

You offer him a tired smile and sit down across from him.

“Are you alright?” he asks, and it’s a little touching that he knows you so well after only a short time in his company.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I had a…weird night.”

That’s when Kelsey, the Australian girl who helped you with your zipper the night before, saunters up with a shit eating grin. “There she is. Noticed you didn’t come home last night. How was your date?”

“It was…something,” you answer with what you know isn’t a convincing smile. “I’m tired,” you try to cover.

Javi is still looking at you, like he doesn’t believe any of what you’re saying.

Knowing you will not be able to process any of what just happened to you in the boisterous bustle of the backpacker hostel, you eat a quick bite and rise. “Think I’m going for a walk,” you say.

“I’ll join you,” offers Javi, and you can’t figure out how to say no without hurting his feelings.

You walk out the front door together, chatting about something silly. He manages to make you laugh, until you look across the street. Your mirth dies like a bird struck with a stone.

John is there, leaning against the building like a tall dark omen, and he does not look happy. He stalks over to you, giving Javi a forbidding look before turning to you.

“You shouldn’t have run off like that. I was worried.” There is something chilling in his tone. It reminds you a bit of the way he’d scolded Brian that one day, but times ten. Somehow, his teeth seem sharper in this tense moment in the buttery Venice sunlight. 

 “I’m a big girl, John.”

John glares at Javi again, but the younger man stubbornly stays at your side, not taking the hint. “We need to talk,” says John, taking your elbow.

“You don’t have to go with him,” says Javi with a frown, grasping your other arm. You feel like you’re stuck between two dogs with a bone, and it’s too much.

“Both of you, let go of me,” you snap.

Miraculously, this does the trick, though goddamn if there isn’t something like murder glinting in John’s eyes as he does it.

If you weren’t in public on a crowded street, you have a feeling it wouldn’t have worked at all.

“I am going for a walk. Alone. Thank you, Javi, you’re very sweet. John, should I choose to talk to you, I know where you’re staying.”

You turn on your heel, and flee down the street.  

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

hello I hope your having a good day! I was wondering if you could write for the arcana mane 6 comforting reader when she had a bad/stressful day? Js something fluffy and cute :3

Case of the Blues

|| main 6 x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader feeling down, the main 6 comforting her, brief hints at sex but nothing actually said or overly hinted at

|| Summary; when the main 6 find reader, they comfort her to the best of their abilities. Each in their own styles.

Requests open!

Started; November 9th

Finished; November 9th

~~~

Countess Nadia

She knows by now what all your tells are, it didn't take her long to figure out you were feeling down. Nadia would call for Portia, requesting your favourite comfort food to be made for dinner that evening. Then Nadia would call off anything she had to do for that day. Luckily, today there wasn't anything too major. Just small meetings with the court that Nadia could just reschedule anyways.

Getting you in her arms would be her top priority. Once Nadia had you in bed, she'd shower you in kisses. Asking what was wrong and if there was anything she could do for you. If you told her, Nadia would sit and listen. Providing advice should you ask. She always seemed to know just what to say, especially when it came to you.

If you decided on being silent with her, Nadia would never force you to speak to her. But she would feel a little hurt that you were shutting her out. Instead, she would focus on the physical comfort over emotional and mental. Giving you any kind of attention you wanted... yes, any. Nadia was yours just as much as you were hers; something she would never let you forget. Not that you had any complaints, though.

And it worked nearly every time, making you feel better than you had all day.

Count Lucio

Believe it or not, he does notice when his favourite magician is feeling down. Lucio doesn't always know what to do at first, asking some of the palace workers for advice until he settles on something he likes. And figured you would like too.

When he finds you, he scoops you up into his arms. Ignoring your protests at being carried, saying how he's "trying to be your hero! let me do my thing!" and eventually you calm down. Allowing him to carry you to the palace's luxury baths.

At the baths, he tells the servants there to leave the two of you be. Then disrobes you and himself before heading in, gesturing for you to follow him.

Once settled in his arms, he holds you close. Pampering you and kisses and asking how you're feeling. If you tell him, he does his best to listen. And if its a rant about someone in particular, Lucio hates that person along with you. "ugh I can't believe they did that!" "no way???" "nobody speaks to my mc like that and gets away with it". Honestly Lucio lives for the drama.

But if you choose not to tell him, much like Nadia he's happy just providing you with kisses.

Portia Devorak

Just like you, Portia's pretty exhausted after her day in the palace. But when she comes home to find you looking rather down, almost subconsciously petting Pepi in your lap... she knows what she's gotta do. Portia's the type to worry about herself last; if at all. So you know this girl is doing everything she can for you.

Making you a calming tea, your favourite snacks, then cuddling up with you and Pepi. Listening as you rant to her. Much like Lucio, if the rant is about a particular person... Portia is your number one defender. You may need to hold her back from marching out of the cottage and finding whoever it was that wronged you herself. How dare someone make her favourite girl in the world sad? She'd handle it, if you let her.

Julian Devorak

Oh boy. When he found you feeling down, he was all over you with concern. First Julian made sure to cross off any illness possibilities; checking your forehead, etc. When he was satisfied that you were alright in that sense, he'd run off to get you water and a snack. Just to be extra sure about your health and all. And when he'd return, Julian would sit and listen as you talked to him about your day.

He would feel bad for you, wishing that whatever had you feeling down was happening to him instead. Despite Nazali's warnings at not being so self sacrificing. Julian loved you, he couldn't help it. He hated seeing those he cared about in any kind of pain he couldn't fix.

But Julian would damn well do anything he could to try and fix it. Giving you whatever kind of comfort you needed. Cuddles? Stories? Kisses? Laughter? You name it, you got it. Even if he may have to pull a few strings.

Asra

Asra's known you for ages, after all he taught you to be human again. So of course he would immediately recognize that look in your eyes. He'd ask you what was wrong, bringing you upstairs to talk about it as Faust came and joined you. Lounging in the space between the two of you.

You would talk to Asra; there was little you felt you couldn't admit to him. It had always been easy having conversations with the magician. He'd listen, letting you get everything out before offering comfort and especially advice. Even offering to do a tarot reading for you, should the situation require another set of eyes and advice.

You'd listen to everything he had to say, taking in his words like a fresh breeze on a rough day. Finding it was exactly what you needed to hear. As it often was. He'd then give your hand a squeeze and lips a kiss, before making your favourite meal for dinner. Comforting you was something he had become skilled in doing over the years. After all, you were his mc.

Muriel

Muriel would return to his hut to find you cuddled up with Inanna. He could tell you weren't quite yourself. He'd give you the time you needed, knowing that sometimes people just need to be left alone until they're ready. And by the time you were, he was making dinner for the two of you as he felt your arms try to wrap around his back. Muriel would look to you, bringing you in a little closer. Placing a soft kiss to your forehead.

He wouldn't ask what was wrong right away. Waiting to see if you would start the conversation. If you did, he would listen. Occasionally nodding to show you he was paying attention as he made dinner. But if you didn't talk first, he would feel a little flustered as he'd awkwardly stutter out the question. Asking you how you were feeling.

Should you decide to say nothing about it to him, Muriel would respect that. Being a man of so few words himself he hardly minded. But he would be bothered about whatever seemed to have you so down. Wondering if it was something he had done or someone else. As long as you assure him it wasn't his fault, he'd be okay.

~~~

Notes; not used to writing for Portia, Julian, Asra or Muriel. So I hope you all found them to be decently accurate 🙏

[hoesplay]

First of all, your drawings are so cuute☆ second of all, i know that you have like two sae requests, but if it isn't a bother or anything could i request another sae one wherein his s/o flinches when he raises his hand (to fix his hair or sum) during an argument of theirs? If you don't want to do this request then it's alright with me! Thank you and may you have a pleasant day ahead ♡♡♡

𝔽𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕦𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕊𝕒𝕖 𝕀𝕥𝕠𝕤𝕙𝕚

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 (𝘐'𝘮 𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨) 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭𝟬𝟲𝟵 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝘄: 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘅𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘆, 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗼𝗰, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝘀𝗲𝘅 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 (𝗵𝗺𝘂 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴)

All relationships have ups and downs. It’s nothing unusual for a couple to find discord occasionally. Of course, you had your fair share of arguments with Sae, but sooner or later you were bound to have one of those big fights. You didn’t give it much thought before, you always believed you were blessed when your friends ran up to you teary-eyed in need of comfort after having a scandal with their significant other. Sometimes you wondered if you would be in that position, too. You were curious how your boyfriend would settle things in such a situation, but at the same time, you weren’t. You know best how insensitive he can be, even though it holds no ill intention towards you.

Lately, your job became stressful, and after long days at work, you started progressively complaining more, picking up arguments over small stuff and the whole package. “If you don’t like it, then just quit. I earn enough for both of us anyway.”, he snapped back at you once. You were aching to rebut by mocking his job, but you couldn’t complain. You had a lavish life, despite being in your early 20s, that most of the people would die for. You kept your job for your own sense of security, you would feel bad if you had to rely on Sae for all financial reason.

Your shitty week became a shitty month and it started to take a toll on your house chores and your sexual life. Your stress was contagious and it started to irritate your significant other as well. At first, he started shushing you so you can avoid conflict, then he started to complain himself, and there you were, having your worst conflict yet. You don’t remember how it started, but it grew into a yelling contest. Your throat was burning, you felt tired and very anxious. Your heart has beating faster and faster in your chest, but you couldn’t stop arguing. It pained you a lot and his bluntness was adding fuel to the fire. As your lungs fought for some air, he stood silent, clearly pissed off. The quite was unnerving and you became aware of how hard you were panting, as if you just ran an entire marathon. You were avoiding eye contact, trying to focus on your surroundings, like trying to escape, but you had nowhere to run.

In a spare second of peace, you realized you should give it a rest, call it a night, and talk with a clear mind tomorrow. Sae seemed to take the hint, seeing how exhausted you were, eyes glossy and shoulders slightly shaking. He wasn’t pleased that he didn’t win the argument, but for you he was willing to compromise. You took a step towards him in your wish to initiate a hug, but at the same time, your boyfriend brought his hand up to fix his hair backwards with a loud “tsk”. The sudden raise of his hand caught you off guard as you flinched, a small yelp escaping your throat. At this gesture, Sae was confused, as he tried to look at your face hidden behind your hands. Your form was shivering, back slumped and hair covering your features. He tried to approach you, but you were quick to take steps backwards. “What the fuck, (Y/N).”, he felt more betrayed than ever. You didn’t like his choice of words, so you went straight to your bedroom, without looking back.

You laid in bed, finally letting all the tears fall free along with hiccups and heavy breaths. Your mind was playing tricks on you, repeating the incident over and over. You know he wouldn’t hurt you, your body reacted before you could process. You are aware that you should apologize for reacting this way, but a part of you is hoping he would come after a few minutes to comfort you. Your mind blanked and soon you passed out. When you woke up, your throat was sore, the pillow below you was wet and your whole body was aching. In your daze, you moved your hand to feel for Sae, but he wasn’t in his usual spot. You got up to check the time; it was 1 a.m. Then it hit you. He won’t come to console you. The sting in your heart brought fresh tears in your eyes and discomfort in your veins. You could almost hear how it shattered in half.

You jumped out of the bed and made your way to the living room in search of him. Of course, he was sleeping on the couch, with his head on the decorative pillow and covered by the light blanket you two use during movie nights. Taking a closer look, you noticed his eyebags and how disheveled his hair appeared to be. His lips were chapped and bitten raw and he was hugging himself, probably in an attempt to give himself more warmth. At this sight, you fell on your knees, hand clutching at his back, mumbling apologies over and over. “That was the biggest insult you could have told me as your boyfriend.”, he started, voice ragged and slightly shaky. He was still facing the couch as he continued. “I know I’m not the nicest and I’m far from being the kindest, but I was never aggressive towards you.”

Oh, how you knew. Coherent sentences left you, all that remained were apologies and your hard attempts to breathe through the sobs. He turned around facing you, arm extended and making room for you to fit on the couch. You took the invitation without hesitation, burying your face in his chest and letting it all out. He caged you in his arms, swinging his leg on top of yours. You moved your hands under his shirt, wrapping them around his slim waist. You giggled softly as his messy hair tickled you. The steady rhythm of his heart soothed yours; here is where you found your anchor, your ground to lean on when you’re tired.

Everything was a mess, but you make a mental note to apologize properly once you cleared your head. He wanted to ask you what triggered that reaction, but, taking a social cue for once, he realized it was not the moment. All that mattered in that second was that, despite everything, you still had each other. You will solve the rest tomorrow. Together.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ! :)