#also it turns out if you're really depressed about the way you look it might just be because your roots are outgrown

[lazylittledragon]

i'll take a nicer photo tomorrow but i think maybe this is the best hair refresh i've ever done for myself

[mariasont]

hi love 🫶🏻 could you write spencer x reader inspired by taylor's "renegade"? there is one fic like that but spencer is as the one taylor sings about there and i was thinking you could maybe do the opposite where reader is the one who this song is about? idk if my explanation makes sense 😭 anyway, have a nice day!!

Messy - S.R

a/n: okay i wasn't sure if this is exactly what you wanted but i hope i did it justice and im so thankful you sent me this request <3 im so sorry it took soooo long for me to get to it, ilysm i hope you're having the best day

also this one is so near and dear to my heart like i choked myself up writing this hahahah so i hope you all enjoy

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: depression, unhealthy coping methods, hopeful ending <3

wc: 1.5k

The clock on the wall ticked quietly, a soft sound that somehow seemed louder in the silence of the apartment. The hour hand had long since crept past midnight, but you stayed where you were--curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, a forgotten book spread open in your lap. This is where you had been for an amount of time that you were embarrassed to admit.

The words on the page blurred together, your eyes tracing the same sentence for the fifth time. You weren't really reading. Not anymore.

The sound of Spencer's footsteps broke the relative quiet as he appeared out of the darkened hallway. You didn't need to look up to know he was watching you, a concerned crease in his brow and sleep tousling his hair. You could feel his gaze--soft, searching and damningly knowing.

"You're still awake." It wasn't a question.

You shifted, turning the page like you were engrossed in the story, even though you hadn't absorbed a word. When you glanced up at him, you shot him a smile--a practiced one that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Couldn't sleep."

Spencer didn't say anything right away, but you could hear him moving closer, the creaking weight of his steps seeming hesitant--like he wasn't sure whether you wanted company or space.

You weren't sure either.

The thought of him sitting next to you wrapped around your lungs like a too-tight band, the way it always did when someone got too close. And yet, the thought of him staying away constricted something deeper, something you weren't sure you could name.

Finally, the corner of the couch dipped as he sat beside you, close enough for the invisible wall you had built to feel less solid. It felt like something similar to sunlight filtering through a curtain's tear.

"What's on your mind?"

You blinked, fingers picking at the worn edges of the book's pages as if they might pull apart and reveal something you weren't able to put into words.

"Nothing." You said it too quickly. Brittle. Then, because you could feel his eyes on you--seeing through you--you added, "It's silly, really. Just overthinking.

You tried to make it sound dismissive, punctuating it with a small laugh that you were sure came out quiet and hollow. "You don't need to worry about me, Spence. I'm fine."

"Fine," he repeated softly, like the word tasted wrong on his tongue.

His voice was so gentle, but you could feel every last bit of unspoken concern wrapped inside it, the way it always was when you said you were fine. You hated that--hated that he could see through the cracks you worked so hard to hide. You wanted to tell him it was better this way, safer for both of you. You didn't want to scare him or worse drag him into the parts of yourself that felt sharp and broken.

You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, cataloging your body language, the way your smile faltered, the way you fidgeted with the book like you needed to keep your hands busy to avoid cracking open.

Spencer tilted his head, continuing to study you, but he didn't call you out on the lie. He never did--not directly. Instead, he adjusted his posture, sinking further into the couch like he intended to stay.

"What are you reading?" He nodded towards the book in your lap.

You glanced at the cover and felt the heat creep up your neck. 

"Oh, um... something I grabbed off the shelf earlier." You flipped it shut, careful not to let him see how little progress you'd actually made. "It's good. Just... taking my time with it."

It was such a small thing to lie about, but you were clinging to any shred of normalcy. You didn't want him to see this version of you--the one who stared blankly at pages, lost in spirals you couldn't quite explain.

"That's okay, you know," Spencer said quietly. "Taking your time."

You knew he wasn't talking about the book, not really. Before you could deflect, his hand moved gently across the space between you, his fingertips brushing up and down the length of your arm.

The touch was so soft--barely there--but it distracted you. You exhaled, a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, and let your eyes flutter shut for just a moment. It had been so long since you let yourself be in his presence, let yourself lean into him without pulling away.

“Did you know that depression physically changes the brain,” Spencer said suddenly, his voice low and conversational, like he was talking about a science fact and not you. “It affects the hippocampus, the amygdala—the areas responsible for regulating memory, emotion, and stress.”

You swallowed, opening your eyes again, fingers still fussing with the book. “Spence…”

He continued, his tone gentle, as though he were easing you into the truth. "The hippocampus actually shrinks during prolonged depression. That's the part of the brain responsible for processing memories, for distinguishing between what's important and what's not. That's why it feels so hard to concentrate. Why sometimes everything feels... too much, even the little things."

You stilled under his touch, gaze focused on the closed book. The words he was saying were clinical, sure, but the way he was saying it made your heart clench.

"And the amygdala?" he continued. "It's the emotional center of the brain. In people with depression, it becomes overactive, and the body starts reacting to stress like it's always in fight-or-flight mode. Even when there's no threat. Even when you're safe."

Spencer paused, letting the words sink in, his fingers tracing slow, soothing lines down your arm. You could feel him watching you, but you couldn't look at him yet. You weren't sure you wanted him to see the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“I’m not trying to analyze you,” he added quickly. “I know it probably sounds like that. But I'm telling you this because I want you to understand that it's not all in your head."

He hesitated, then nudged you gently, his hand squeezing your arm as if to reinforce his words. "This isn't some character flaw or something you've invented. Your brain--your body--feels this, physically. It's real."

You blinked, and the first tear fell. His words cracked something inside you--not because they hurt, but because you hadn't realized how badly you needed to hear them.

"It's like..." Spencer searched for the right words, brow furrowing. "It's like being stuck in a room with a broken thermostat. You're freezing, and everyone else is telling you it's warm because they can't feel what you feel. But just because they can't see it doesn't mean it isn't happening. You're not imagining the cold."

"You're not a problem that needs solving," he murmured. "You're not too much. You're enough, exactly as you are."

Something snapped in your chest--sharp, small, and unexpected.

"I'm not trying to save you," Spencer continued, like he could sense the thought forming on your tongue. "I just... I want you to let me stand beside you. Even if it's messy. Even if it's hard."

You sniffled, swiping quickly at the tear trailing down your cheek, and glanced up at him with a small, wobbly smile. 

"Even if it's messy?" Your voice trembled slightly, but the hint of a laugh broke through--soft and fragile, like glass. "You hate messes."

Spencer's lips quirked into a smile, and for a moment, the tension in the room shifted. The air felt a little lighter.

"That's true," he admitted. "But I'll make an exception. For you."

You let out a watery laugh, the sound catching somewhere in your throat, and it startled you--how good it felt to laugh, even through tears. Spencer smiled wider, like seeing that microscopic spark of light in you was enough.

He shifted closer than, his hand sliding from your arm to cradle your cheek, his touch soft and careful, as though he were afraid you might pull away. "Even if it's messy."

And then he kissed you--soft and slow, his lips brushing yours with infinite gentleness, as though he were trying to tell you everything he couldn't express aloud. For a heartbeat, you tensed. The instinct to pull back, to close yourself off, flared up like it always did. But Spencer didn't push; he simply stayed, giving you a choice.

So you let yourself lean into him.

The tension melted from your shoulders as you kissed him back, the faint taste of salt lingering between you where tears still clung to your lips. His hand stayed against your cheek. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you finally let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

"Do you want to go to bed?"

You glanced at the book still resting on your lap. The Bell Jar. Your hand hovered over the book's spine, the instinct to cling to it, but you let your hand fall away.

"Yeah," you said softly. 

The book stayed on the couch, closed, forgotten as you rose from the couch and let him guide you toward the bedroom.

And maybe, just maybe, the glass was beginning to crack.

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[sulumuns-dootah]

WHB characters boyfriend HCs

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Written mid October as a way to make myself feel better. Might turn this into a series, if anyone is interested ^^

Characters: Satan, Paimon, Beelzebub, Gusion, Michael

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Bike rides and bar dates - I can just imagine going for a drive through Gehenna's streets, tightly holding onto Satan so you don't fall off a the high speed (Just like Minhyeok when Juno drove him to school in chapter 6)

Okay, on the theme of bars: kinda funny but I imagne him holding his hard liquor much better than something with little-to-none alcohol

Lots of lovebites and hickeys

Despite stuggling to sleep normally, when you're with him, it's the exact opposite and whenever you cuddle, he's out within minutes

His love language is bullying

During his depressive episodes, you're the only one he'll let near him

NSFW HCs

That horn style might as well be called handlebars, bc you sure will be holding onto dear life ( joke stolen from Trixie Mattel)

He has a thing for when someone rides his boots

Kinda obvious one, but a lot of BDSM in the bedroom

If you're a monsterfucker, he wouldn't mind changing into his other form for you

    ༺☆༻

Shopping dates!!

If you wish to, your relationship can be fully off social media despite Pai practically living on them

Matching stuff!

Loves doing your makeup (even if you don't wear any)

Café dates!

Ultimatelly, you're their new photographer for their posts

Overall the vibe of your relationship really gives me the two best friends who also fuck vibes

Every night is a slumber party!

NSFW HCs

If you get periods, they'll make sure you have all the stuff in the world you might need

And if you require some special attention down there, they're more than excited to make you feel good

I can imagine a lot of roleplay with cute outfits for the both of you

    ༺☆༻

Even when you're not with each other, there's at least a fly following you around to make sure you're okay

His clones do prove useful for more than just sex - putting new fitted sheets onto your mattress? done and done!

Every date is in a new location you never even knew about

Despite his memory being shit, he'll remember all the important and small things: your favorite scent? favorite dish? flower? yep, all memorised or turned into a tattoo on his inner wrist!

Oh, speaking of tattoos... You two get a matching one to seal the deal on your relationship

Instead of proposal with a ring, Beel proposes with a piercing needle and giving you the choice of what he'll pierce (you can even pick multiple spots!)

NSFW HCs

Let's get the obvious out of the way: Yes, he loves eating you out so much he'd spend the next century between your legs

And yes, you can say goodbye to deodorants/perfumes

Surprisingly not into food play tho... If you look any more yummy, he might actually eat you :D

    ༺☆༻

Workaholic baby :(

Like seriously, you sometimes have to cleverly lure him away from his math problems

If you're a student, you've won the jackpot! He might not be an expert in your field, but he knows how to help you learn

Gaming nights with some insane hard puzzle games

A cute scenario: Gus taking off his glasses before leaning down to kiss you deeply

I already mentioned this in my post about confessing a crush to him, but he might neglect you a bit from being so into his work so make sure to sound off and let him know

NSFW HCs

Someone gets a bit hot and bothered after your study session together

Ooh! I absolutely can't forget a good ol' teacher/student roleplay

He's most likely originally from Gehenna bc of how horny he got from the thought of having a headache, so I HC that he'll come seek you out after getting one to fuck the life out of you

    ༺☆༻

His hair is 100% pure silk

Your relationship probably started with Mikey first seeing you and not being able to read you, so he decided to keep his remaining eye on you to see what's the story with you

Somehow ended up accidentally(?) falling for you

He's definitelly the most likely demon to get unhealthily obsessed with his s/o

A lot of attachment issues after loosing God and Lucifer

That mom friend for sure (even literally a mom - kinda makes me wonder how he'd react to all the lesser angels he made giving him Mother's day card)

One daydream plot i came up with is that if I were in Hell and Michael showed up, I'd just pretend to be fully delulu that he's into me, but isn't ready to tell me yet The whole "Aw, you came to see me? Does that mean...? that you're ready to confess to me...?" He'd just get disgusted and leave and then everybody claps

NSFW HCs

Kinda obvious, but he's iffy about sexual subjects at first

Still doesn't mean he hasn't thought a few times about breaking out of his chastity cage

Once you break down his restraints, he's maybe even freakier than some demons in Abaddon

Maybe there's a good reason God locked his angels up

Okay, hear me out: Michael x MC x Raphael (yes, death is almost guaranteed, but what a way to go!)

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Me or him (part 4)

~ part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: felix x afab!reader x hyunjin genre: angst, smut word count: 3.2k warning/s: swearing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v (don't do it), creampie, no happy ending!!! a/n: this is the last chapter of this mini series! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i had fun writing it🫶🏻(and also made myself cry while writing this last chapter dkdldl) ~ check out my: Masterlist

The last few days, you were nothing but miserable. All day, every day you thought about what you did and the more you thought about it, the more it depressed you.

Felix has been texting and calling for days. But you couldn't deal with him and the last thing he said before he left that night.

'I'll never give up on us.'

What he said made you even more mad in that moment. You tried calling Hyunjin but it seems that he blocked your number as soon as he left the apartment and your life.

You knew there was no going back and there was no way he would ever forgive either of you but you wanted to at least tell him how bad you felt for betraying him and breaking his heart.

Changbin came to pick Hyunjin's stuff up and he gave you the cold shoulder as soon as he saw you.

"H-how's Hyunjin?"- you ask quietly as Changbin packs his stuff.

"How do you think he is?"- he scoffs, not even looking at you.

"I- I know I fucked up real bad. But can you just tell him how sorry-"

"No, y/n. You don't get to apologize and feel better because of it. Hyunjin deserves more than a shitty apology you're making just because you feel guilty. I hope you feel guilty for a very long time cause you really broke his heart. Both you and... Felix. I don't wish anything ill upon anyone usually, but honestly whatever karma you two get, you deserve it."- Changbin says, shoving the last of the boxes closed.

You're silent. There is nothing you can do, you know Changbin loves Hyunjin like a brother and nothing you say to him in this moment can repair what you've broken.

"Also, here's anything you gifted to Hyunjin or him to you while you were together. He doesn't want any of the stuff to remind him of you so sell them, throw them away or something. I don't know."- Changbin shrugs, bringing in a box.

"Goodbye, y/n."

-

Your apartment might as well be completely vacant cause that's how it feels. Half of your closet is empty. Hyunjin's favorite snacks are gone from the pantry. His paintings that adorned the walls were gone, the paint on the wall lighter where they used to hang, leaving just a shadow of what once was.

The smell of his skin has almost completely faded away from your sheets. You can't even sleep in your bed because every time you lay down in it, you remember how you said your lovers name in the most intimate moment shared with your boyfriend, and your chest squeezes in anxiety.

You sleep on the couch, you force yourself to eat, you exist at work, your days seem to be seeping into one long painful experience. It's like you're barely even real, like the world is moving around you in slow motion and you're just there.

You can't take it.

You can't take being alone.

-

Your hand trembles as you lift it up, contemplating if you should actually be doing this.

It's still not too late to turn back and just go home. But what are you going back home to? Empty walls? A cold bed? That damn box of things that remind Hyunjin of you that you still didn't manage to bring yourself even to touch?

No, you can't go back there. Not like this.

So you ring the doorbell.

"Coming!"- you hear his muffled voice.

The door opens and a disheveled Felix widdens his eyes at the sight of you.

"Y/n!"- he gasps.

"I... I didn't know where else to go."- you say weakly.

Felix stares at you for a moment, the look in his eyes becoming softer.

"Come in."- he says and steps aside.

You end up sitting on his couch, where everything started. Pretty ironic, you think. He sits down too, and the two of you struggle to say something.

"Didn't you say that you don't ever wanna see me again?"- he asks quietly.

"That didn't stop you from calling and texting."- you answer equally as quiet.

"Well, I said I wont give up on us. That wasn't a lie."- he says and you sigh, finally finding the courage to look at him. He waits for you to say something and you stare at him, his eyes still warm when they look at you. You hurt him too though, haven't you?

"Felix, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't really mean it. I was angry at myself and I took it out on you. I mean that's no excuse but we both did a really shitty thing. I feel so fucking guilty, sick to my stomach for hurting someone as wonderful as Hyunjin is."- your eyes water. "I think about it every day. I really hope he can heal and find someone better. And I... well I want to try giving us a chance if you still want me."- Felix's eyes widden.

"But I need to know that you feel guilty too. I need to know that you know what we did was wrong."- you add, wiping away tears that slowly made their way down your cheeks.

"Ofcourse I feel guilty, y/n. I'm not some kind of monster. Hyunjin is- was one of my closest friends. I broke his heart too, I betrayed him too. And I do think about it. But, I can't help also thinking about you every day. I still want you, I want to be there for you. I want to be yours."

Your heart speeds up when you hear those words and you wordlessly lean in, closing the gap between you and Felix. His lips are soft against yours and only when he reciprocates the kiss, you realize you missed him.

"Wait a sec."- Felix gently grabs your wrists, leaning away from you.

"What is it?"- you ask as you notice his lips trembling.

"I don't want this to be just fucking to you. I don't want to be a rebound. I want to have a real chance of a relationship with you, like we're starting from the beginning."- Felix's eyes are big as he scans your face.

Your chest tightens.

"I... Okay."- you nod. "But I need you now. I missed you."- you confess and it's exactly what Felix wants to hear.

"I missed you too. I thought I'd never see you again."- his hands cup your face as he talks between kisses. "I need you too."- he adds and kisses you more passionately as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Something in your gut feels wrong, something nagging at you in the back of your mind but still you let Felix take you to his bedroom. It looks exactly how you remember it and everything smells like him. He kisses you, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands holding your hips tightly.

You're drunk on the taste of him, it's all so familiar, so comforting that you lose your mind to his touch.

You grip his waist and turn him around, pushing him down to sit on the bed.

"Y/n..."- Felix lets out a shaky breath as you place your palms on his thighs, spreading his legs apart before you slowly kneel down in between them.

"Fuck..."- he whines as your hand comes in contact with his hard, clothed member. You grip him and move your hand on him, feeling him grow under your touch.

You don't want to waste too much time so you hook your fingers in his sweatpants and slide them down with his boxers and Felix whines as soon as the cold air hits his leaking cock.

You lean in and lick at his tip gathering the precum, swirling your tongue around until you take him in your mouth and suck gently. Felix grips at the bed, the sight of you on your knees, pleasing him like that makes his heart beat fast.

Drunk on the feeling of his cock heavy on your tongue you keep taking more and more of him in, swallowing and humming around him, driving him crazy with desire.

His hands tangle in your hair and he grabs a fistful of it, pushing his hips up and accidentally making you gag around him.

"Ah, shit!"- he whines as his cock twitches inside your mouth.

You bob your head faster and moans keep spilling from his lips as you bring him closer to the edge.

"Stop, stop, don't make me cum yet!"- Felix whines and you lift off of him, licking your lips and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Let me taste you too, sweetheart."- he says, his voice deeper than usually and his pupils blown, the nickname he always uses for you making your pussy throb.

Pretty soon, you're naked with him between your legs, his tongue lapping at you hungrily like he was deprived of actual food for months.

His fingers work to open you up as he sucks on your clit, tongue darting out to tease your wetness.

"Missed your taste."- his voice is muffled as he speaks into you, his eyes closed in pure bliss as he keeps eating you out.

"Lix!"- you whimper as your hips spasm towards his face, his fingers finding that gummy spot inside you. "Ah, don't stop."- you say and he speeds up, making your legs shake and your heart race as he keeps hitting that sweet spot, his tongue lapping at your clit.

Pleasure washes over you and you explode, squirting all over his face and the bed.

"Shit, sorry!"- you gasp and Felix chuckles.

"Don't apologize, that was really hot."- he smirks, fingers caressing your wet folds. "I guess this pussy really missed me."

"It did."- you whisper breathlessly, as he leans in again and gives you a few kitten licks.

"I missed her too."

"Felix"- you tug at his hair and try to lift him up. He looks up at you and smirks, his thumb on your clit.

"Want something?"- he asks.

"Don't tease me now. You know what I want."- you whine.

"Say it, sweetheart."- he says, his deep voice sending vibrations through you.

"I want your cock, please."- you give in immediately and Felix smirks triumphantly as he slides his hands up to cup your breasts, hovering over you. One of his hands grabs his neglected cock that's screaming for any kind of attention and he gives it a few pumps, the tip caressing your wet cunt.

You grip at his arm, nails digging into his skin as he pushes in, your pussy molding around the shape of him, the familiar stretch.

Felix loses himself as soon as he feels your warm, wet walls clenching around him and he fucks you with vigor.

"Oh my god!"- you whimper, holding onto him for dear life.

"Fuck, I missed you so much."- Felix whimpers, face buried in your neck as he keeps shoving his cock inside you, waves of pleasure making you feel like you're floating on air.

"More, more, more..."- you keep chanting.

"I love you, I love you, y/n."- he says desperately holding onto your hips, but you only moan in response as you spasm, your juices spilling all over his cock.

"Felix!"- you moan his name as he keeps fucking you, hips snapping into you strongly.

"I'm close. Can I cum inside? Please, let me cum inside."- he begs repeatedly and you've never seen him this desperate.

A brief thought of a rule runs through your mind, one that the two of you have already broken before. The one where you told Felix that he can't come inside you, only Hyunjin can, and your mind races, a pang of guilt hitting you again.

"Please, y/n, I can't hold it much longer."- Felix ruts into you sloppily.

"Okay, you can cum inside me."- you whisper, nails digging into his back as he growls lowly, hips picking up speed again.

Between his low grunts and the whispered 'I love you's', his hips stutter as he finishes, his hot cum filling you up and making you feel incredibly wet.

"You didn't say it back."- Felix whispers as he pulls out and lays next to you, facing you so you face him too.

"I'm sorry."- you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I'll wait for you."- he says.

"Okay."- you say as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

-

Felix promises he'll work on himself and on your relationship. You promise you'll work on yourself too and give this a real chance.

And you really try but deep down you know you don't love Felix the way you loved Hyunjin which makes you even more confused at why you even started the affair, and how you ended up sharing pancakes on a date with him instead of celebrating four years with Hyunjin.

Felix looks happy, the happiest you've seen him and you can't even count how many fake smiles you fed him. It's wrong and it makes you feel like an even worse person than before.

The box of stuff Hyunjin returned to you is buried deep inside your closet, still unopened and untouched. It's been a few months and you still can't make yourself sift through it or even just throw it away.

Whenever you're at home, you want to run away because your apartment still reminds you of Hyunjin, and you still can't let Felix in and you definitely don't want him in the bed you and Hyunjin shared. So you go to Felix's place but whenever you're there, he's there and he doesn't want to leave you alone for a moment, and his apartment just reminds you of the many times you ran into his arms behind your boyfriend's back.

Felix is too excited, too happy and you know he's not stupid, you're pretty sure he can feel that you don't love him the way he loves you, he's just trying to ignore it.

Maybe it's best if you actually start fresh, away from everything and everyone that remind you of the biggest mistake you've made in your life.

-

"Lix, can we talk?"- you start one afternoon, as you hang out in his apartment.

"Yeah, what's up?"- he asks, his attention on you.

Oh, boy. Even though Felix wasn't a saint, he didn't deserve to have his heart broken but the more you thought about it, the more you came to the conclusion that it would be best if the two of you went your own separate ways.

"This isn't something I'm doing just like that, it's something I thought over and over about and I'm doing this with a heavy heart- but I think we should separate. And for real this time. I mean actually never talk again."- Felix's face morphs from sadness to annoyance as he listens to you.

"Why would you say something like that? I thought we were making progress. I thought you-"

"Felix, please, just listen for a sec. I'm sorry but I don't love you like you love me. I care for you but that's as far as my feelings go."- you say and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. "I don't want to keep lying to you because I feel like I'm doing that constantly. I can't move on from what we did to Hyunjin, I can't heal or become a better person. Neither can you, because this isn't healthy. Our relationship was never healthy. And I think both of us are just keeping each other stuck and lying to ourselves thinking that this could work when it started out as betrayal to someone who cared about both of us. We can't build a healthy relationship on that. I said I'd give it a chance and I did but I can't do this anymore. Not to myself and not to you. I want you to also be happy and find someone who will love you properly."- by the time you finish talking, both of you are crying.

"I don't know what to say, y/n. It just hurts a lot to hear that you don't feel the same for me because I've been loving you for years. I know that I made the first move and I was wrong for that. I was wrong to come between you and Hyunjin. B-but I thought if he had a chance to start over, maybe you'd grow to love me. Obviously, I can't force you to."- he sniffles so you grab his hand.

"It's really over now, huh?"- he asks, squeezing your hand.

"I'm really sorry Felix. For everything."

"Me too."- he nods. "P-please just let me kiss you and hold you one last time."- he whispers.

"Okay."- you whisper back and Felix presses his lips on yours, the taste of salty tears making your heart ache. He puts his arms around you and holds you tightly. You hold him too, while you both cry. But it's better this way. It's better to start completely fresh, for all three of you.

"I'll always love you."- he whispers.

"I know you will."- you whisper back and Felix smiles sadly.

He watches as you walk away from the window, lips trembling, still not completely aware that that is the last time he'll ever see you.

-

You're sitting on your floor crosslegged, the box Hyunjin returned in front of you.

You think it's time to finally open it.

You slowly lift up the lid and look into it.

It's like a time capsule of your moments together. There are three sketchbooks inside, filled with sketches of you. You smiling, cooking, sleeping, existing. Just you through Hyunjin's eyes. Cologne you bought him that makes you tear up because it brings up memories of his scent that he always left on your sheets and your skin. Shared jewelry he always got for the two of you so you could be matching. Couple rings you wore that made you remember all your friends teasing you that you got engaged within 3 months of dating. Your favorite t-shirt of his, the one he gave you to wear the first night you made love. Since then it became yours and Hyunjin loved seeing you in it, nothing else just the shirt and your pretty legs. There were tickets to art exhibitions you went to together, where Hyunjin would pull out his camera and take pictures of you and the pretty paintings surrounding you. Tickets to concerts you attended together, where you would dance like crazy and have fun like you had no worries on your mind. At the very bottom there were some photos. Photos of you, Hyunjin and Felix when the three of you first became friends. The smiles you had in the photos, pure happiness to be in each other's company, innocent and unaware of what the future holds.

You start crying as you put everything back in the box fast. You don't know how long you lay on your floor crying and hoping that this was all a bad dream and the three of you were still friends and your feelings weren't complicated and you didn't fuck everything up and no one's heart was broken.

But, sadly your reality slaps you in the face. The reality where you ruined your relationship and your friendship. The reality where you betrayed someone who loved you selflessly. The reality where you gave false hope to someone who cared about you. The reality where in the process of breaking hearts, you broke your own heart too. You hope one day you'll be able to pick up the pieces.

Today is not that day.

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @selinia86 @ihrtlino @hash2013 @yongbokkiesworld @xxkhxndlelitexx

[oshygoshy]

“do you think i’m pretty?”

word count - 567 words

warnings - cringe couple activities (im so lonely) also i'm not sure abt some chars so i put question marks but these can fit any and all ur faves. lmk if i forgot anyone!!

a/n - back from the dead. school started up again and im depressed and i have so many exams next week but here i am procrastinating!! maybe one day i'll write something again but in the mean time have this (it's been marinating in my notes app for like 3 months by now)

“yeah, you’re cute. adorable, even...” 

he said with a million-watt smile, his fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes against your thigh. you raised an eyebrow, questioning his taste. right now, you were wearing his old pajama shirt and bottoms which were both faded and fraying at the hems. out of all the times to call you cute, did he really choose right now? 

he leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose lightly, his fingers making their way up to your hands from your legs. he held them in his own warm palms, and kissed the corner of your lips. “don’t give me that look,” he whispered. “i think you’re the cutest wearing my clothes, y’know.” he kissed your cheek. “it makes me feel at home,” he said against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile with him. something about his charm was infectious, and no matter how much you might doubt yourself, you knew he would always love you, tattered pajamas or not. 

hinata, bokuto, komori, yaku (demon senpai or not he definitely has a soft spot), aone, asahi, hanamaki, yamaguchi? aran? tendou? kenma? kageyama?

“beautiful. absolutely gorgeous,” he breathed.

your eyes widen, taken aback at the sincerity of his tone. a light flush couldn’t help but creep its way up onto your cheeks, and you look away, abashed. his fingers brushed against your cheek, tilting your face back at him. “why are you being so shy?” he questioned. “i mean it. truly. even the simplest things you do make me fall in love all over again.” his thumb rubbed soothing circles against your soft skin. "every time you fall asleep on my shoulder, every time you raise an eyebrow at me, and even right now when your cheeks are glowing pink make my heart stutter like we're on my first date," he said with a laugh. you could feel your cheeks burn aflame at his honesty, and couldn't help but look away. “quit blushing,” he teased. “i can’t focus when you’re looking so pretty like that.” 

akaashi, sugawara ("little shit") koushi, sakusa, the hirugami bros (acting like they don't have a combined word count of 20 in the entire series), iwa chan, daichi, semi, kita, ushijima?, tsukki?

“you’re pretty sexy.  hot, if i dare be promiscuous.” 

you roll your eyes at first, huffing through your nose and turning your attention back to your phone before he drags you back to his side. “i’m being serious,” he murmured into the side of your ear, his breath tickling your skin. “it goes beyond your looks, you know. it’s the way you walk, the way you carry yourself…the way you’re so confident in our relationship and in me,” he said, heartfelt. “that kind of unwavering confidence? unbelievably hot.” he leaned back, taking in your entire body. “also, you have a nice ass, which really helps.” he deserved the slap he got, but he couldn't help but grin at the sound of your giggles. he placed a chaste kiss against your temple, his hand looping around your waist again. "keep doing whatever you're doing. i'm in love with you, always. it's hard not to be when you're so irresistible," he whispered against your skin. 

kuroo, THE miya twins, meian, futakuchi, daishou, konoha (that legendary "nah, don't wanna" panel lives in my heart), oikawa, mattsun fs,  suna, noya, i would say tanaka but i don't want to be a homewrecker

[willieverseetheland]

jingle bells.

spencer reid x fem!reader summary: spencer gets a little too tipsy at the office christmas party.

WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, language, spencer being a dork

fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers

I know christmas has been over, I just felt inspired.

wc: 1.4k

You've always loved Christmas. It wasn't the holiday itself; it was how it brought people together. Everything just feels so cozy and bright. So when Penelope asked you to help her decorate for the party, you were more than happy to do so.

Although your job can be very depressing at times, the office environment is truly amazing. Everyone is so kind. You couldn't ask for better coworkers. However, there's one fellow profiler you've grown rather close with these past few months.

Spencer Reid was one of the first people you became friends with at the BAU, other than Penelope of course. He's such a good friend, and always seems to be genuinely interested in what you have to say. He notices the little things, like when you were always complaining about your feet being cold, so he bought you fuzzy socks. Or when he overheard you talking to Emily about how badly you wanted this decorative plate set for your new apartment, and he got it for you for your birthday. He's truly the best friend a girl could ever ask for. But recently you've been wondering if it's only platonic love that you feel. Could it be more than friendship? You find yourself putting extra effort into your appearance, but you just chalk it up to wanting to better yourself. You have also noticed how when you shop, you choose clothes you think he might like.

Sometimes you catch yourself wondering if he feels the same way. Does he lie in bed at night thinking of your voice and laughter the way you think of him? Does he get flustered when your knees brush together during debriefs? Does he get that fluttery feeling in his stomach when you lock eyes from across the room?

Now that you're thinking about it, you really fucking like him. You feel like a teenager with a schoolgirl crush. God, how could you let this happen? You know that co-worker relationships rarely work out. But you're an adult, you can be mature about it, right?

You snap out of your daydream and realize its already 6:00. The party starts in an hour, and you only have a quarter of what you need to do done.

"Hey Penelope, think we could get some Christmas music going? I work faster with music playing!"

"It's like you read my mind y/n!"

The sound of bells fills the room and suddenly you find yourself feeling very festive. You hear Penelope humming along.

You work quickly to get the last of the lights and tinsel strung up. You wish it could look like this year-round. You check your watch. 6:53. Everyone should be arriving soon.

You hear the elevator ding and see Derek walk out with a plate full of what is most definitely store-bought cookies.

"Wow, you ladies really outdid yourselves."

"Hello Derek and thank you" you smile.

People begin to arrive one-by-one. Emily, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi. Everyone says their hellos and get settled. Some make their way to the booze faster than others.

It's 7:25 and Spencer isn't here yet. You feel a pit begin to form in your stomach. You were really hoping to see him tonight. You decide to grab yourself a drink and socialize, take your mind off of him. He'll show up eventually, right?

"Y/N! Hey! Where's your other half?" Emily chuckles and raises her eyebrows. You can tell she snuck a few shots in the elevator.

"I assume you mean Spencer. Not sure actually." So much taking your mind off of him. And what did she mean by other half? It's not that obvious right?

You scan the room, hoping to see Spencer, but you don't. However, you do catch Rossi getting rather comfortable with new forensic photographer.

You finish your drink and wander off to get another. Looking at your watch you see that it's 7:47. You're starting to feel a little hopeless. But right as you turn to rejoin the party, you see him. Those big brown eyes and fluffy hair.

"Hey Y/N, sorry I'm late. I had to go pick up some last-minute gifts."

Weight falls off of your shoulders at the sound of his voice. You feel overwhelming relief now that he's here. You had spent the last hour, or at least what felt like an hour, with your jaw clenched and a heavy feeling in your stomach. You hate feeling this way. You know you need to talk to him, but you don't want to screw up a good thing.

"It's alright Spence, I'm just glad you're here now." You give him a warm smile and place your hand on his shoulder.

He gives you his classic dorky smile in return, and you feel those all too familiar butterflies swell in your stomach.

As the night goes on, the wine flows and sounds of laughter fills the room. You stay by Spencer's side practically the whole night. Now you understand what Emily meant. You notice he's had quite a bit to drink. Definitely not more than Rossi, but more than usual. You feel like he's being more playful and affectionate as well. But you assume it's just the alcohol. You desperately hope he's flirting, but you don't want to look too far into it.

Your thoughts quickly dissolve into the air as the room goes silent and Rossi's rather loud voice announces it's time to exchange gifts. You give out your gifts and accept the ones given to you. You receive a cinnamon roll scented candle from Emily, a pair of heart shaped earrings from Penelope, a fuzzy blanket from JJ, and various trinkets and gadgets from others. Spencer hands you a slender box wrapped in shiny blue snowflaked wrapping paper.

"I wonder what this could be." You raise your eyebrow playfully and give a small laugh.

You carefully tear off the wrapping paper and open the box. Inside is a necklace with small heart shaped locket.

"Go ahead, open the locket." he has a drunken grin, and his eyes are eager.

You open the locket and inside is a picture of you and Spencer from your birthday. You feel a warmth spread over your face and you can't help but smile.

"Oh my god Spencer, this is- thank you so much, really." You pull him into a tight embrace. Relishing in the feeling of his arms around you for just a moment. You pull away, smile faltering slightly.

"Would you walk with me? Outside? It's really warm in here." His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are a rosy pink. His drinks have definitely caught up with him now. No wonder he feels warm.

"Of course, are you feeling okay?" you ask with sincerity.

"Yeah, there's just a lot of noise. Just need some fresh air s'all."

You two slip out into the crisp, December night. The sky's clear so you can see the stars. Your breath creates mini clouds in the night air.

You look over at Spencer and wonder what's going on inside that brilliant brain of his. You've always been so fascinated by the way he thinks.

"You look so beautiful right now. I-I mean you always do, but in this moment you..." his voice trails off like he has more to say, but doesn't know if he should say it.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You let out a quiet laugh.

You can hear carolers singing jingle bells in the distance.

You glance up at him and see that he's looking at you. His eyes reflect the full moon. There's a sadness in his eyes but also an admiring, soft expression.

"y/n."

"Yeah, Spencer?" You place your hand on his forearm. His mouth opens and closes slightly like he doesn't know if he should say what he's about to say.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, y/n." his voice is soft and trembling ever so slightly. His eyes jump across your face, searching for a reaction.

You feel like your brain might short circuit. You're overwhelmed with emotion. You feel a sting as your eyes prick up with tears.

"Spencer, I don't know what to say." You see his smile fade and fear that may have been poor choice of words.

You decide maybe words won't do how you feel justice.

You step closer to him, placing your right hand on his cheek and the left just below his jaw. You breathe in deeply and pull his face to yours. You place a soft kiss on his lips. He then grabs the sides of your face deepening the kiss. You feel heat creeping up your neck, and the whole world feels as though it's melting away.

You pull away, catching your breath. He looks starstruck, like he can't believe what just happened. And honestly, you can't either. You almost want to ask him to pinch you.

"I love you too, Dr. Spencer Reid."

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Saying You Hate Them

As a disclaimer, I'm going to say that these are reactions to you saying it and meaning it, not just being silly or dramatic. However, I'm also kind of assuming in most cases that this is NOT you saying "I am terminating our relationship entirely and this hate thing is a permanent situation."

The rest of the characters are below the cut.

Lucifer

"Very well. You're entitled to your opinion."

Depending on the situation, he might just shrug it off. It isn't like he hasn't dealt with his fair share of unfair whining from people who are upset with him. It would probably take a pretty emotionally charged situation for him to actually take you seriously.

In that case, he probably wouldn't quite know what would be best to do. He'd give you your space, but generally speaking, his demeanor wouldn't be significantly different. If things remain tense for more than a few days, he'll probably attempt to do the mature thing and sit down with you for a conversation to talk through your differences.

Mammon

"Pfft! No ya don't!"

Stage 1. Denial. You're so full of it. You couldn't possibly hate him, the Great Mammon, the first demon you ever made a pact with. You're just blowing off some steam. You'll get over it in a minute or two.

Stage 2. Anger. It's been a minute or two. You aren't backing down. Well, whatever! He isn't gonna sit around and let some whiny human talk shit about him! So he's going to maturely stomp to his room and maturely slam the door and maturely turn up some music obnoxiously loud.

Stage 3. Bargaining. Brooding has done whatever good it might have done, so he'll start to think of ways to change your mind about hating him. He's really an awesome guy, so it shouldn't be that hard. Obviously, the best way to let someone know you care is by spending money on them. So he'll go out on the town with a credit card and max it out on objects that are very pretty and shiny but really aren't your taste. (The fact that Mammon's taste is not the same as everyone else's taste mystifies him.)

Stage 4. Depression. The shopping trip having earned him nothing but abuse from Lucifer, he'll spend some time cooped up in his room and mope and sulk but definitely not cry, because how pathetic do you think he is? He ain't cryin' over one puny human!

Stage 5. Acceptance? Wait just a minute. You're so full of it. You couldn't possibly hate him, the Great Mammon, the first demon you ever made a pact with. He should stop sulking and go talk to you. Definitely not to beg you to forgive him or anything, but maybe if you squinted, it might look like that. Please don't hate him. Please?

Leviathan

"...I guess I should have known."

This is one of the choices that leads you straight to a bad ending. Ignoring him is one thing. Teasing him is another thing. Snapping at him when you're annoyed hurts, but he can justify it. But if you tell Levi you hate him, it will take a monumental amount of effort to undo that damage.

He'll probably assume you've always hated him, and that your friendliness was all an act. He won't be willing to take you at your word if you if you try and tell him that you didn't mean it, because how is he supposed to know that you aren't lying this time?

Satan

If he's (relatively) calm:

"You don't actually mean that. You sound like a child."

His reaction is a little bit like Lucifer's in this case; he'll leave you alone for awhile and not try to keep up the conversation. He won't really believe you actually hate him either. But he is a lot more insecure than Lucifer, so there's a part of him that nags at him... What if they actually hate you? He'll probably be irritable and difficult to approach when those thoughts are especially prevalent. Unfortunately, this is the sort of situation where Satan is immobilized by conflicting thoughts on what's going on, so it will probably be up to you to start a conversation and talk about whatever happened.

If he's very angry:

"Get out of here if you don't want to get hurt."

Whether that's a threat or a warning can be up to interpretation. I imagine that, as the Avatar of Wrath, there's a part of him that feeds on hate, so if Satan was a different sort of character, he'd say something like 'You fool! You're only increasing my power level!' But Satan being Satan, he'll spend some time in whatever room you've left him in and trash it before he calms down, feels extremely ashamed, sulks and/or broods for awhile at a complete loss for how to fix things without rolling over and looking completely pathetic, and, quite possibly, works himself up into another burst of rage from sheer frustration.

Ultimately, he'll probably be more comfortable talking things out through texts than in person (or starting the conversation with a text, then speaking face to face).

Asmodeus

"Hahaha... What...?"

He won't believe you for a second! Partly because, silly, of course you don't hate him, but also because his worldview does not allow for the possibility that someone he cares about might hate him. If he even considers the possibility that you might possibly, hypothetically mean it, he's in for an entire, earth-shattering identity crisis.

If you don't apologize pretty quickly or at least amend the statement to something he can accept, Asmo will head up to his room and hole up in there for awhile, obsessively tracking his social media accounts and pampering himself in the bathroom. You're lying, though. Look at this face! It's impossible to truly hate a face as beautiful as his.

Beelzebub

"Oh... Sorry..."

First he'll look like a deer in the headlights, and then he'll look like a kicked puppy. If he understands what led you to say this, he'll try and fix it, but if he doesn't, he will... (Select an answer below.)

A) Play video games with Levi. B) Go clubbing with Asmo. C) Eat. D) Learn to break dance.

If you guessed C) Eat, then you've been paying attention during your Obey Me! lessons.

And honestly. Honestly! Why would you say something like that? Maybe he's not your favorite brother, but we all know it's simply not possible to actually hate Beel. We all know you're full of it. So knock it off.

Belphie

"...Beel, did you hear something?"

Yep, Belphie is going to pull out all the pettiness he can scrounge up. He believes that the best defense is a good offense, and he's a pro. He'll act haughty and unbothered, ignoring you and looking entirely unbothered between sulking sessions under the covers.

Pettiness aside, you have, knowingly or otherwise, tapped into a source of deep anxiety in your relationship with Belphie. He has not forgotten the whole...incident that took place when you freed him from the attic. He knows that, reasonably, you probably should hate him, and it's amazing to him that you don't seem like you do.

Once tempers have cooled, it might be worthwhile to talk over what happened back then, just the two of you. It was pushed aside too quickly, and you both probably have things you wish you'd said.

Diavolo

"It seems I've upset you. Please know that I never meant to offend you."

He'll see that you're angry with him and give you your space, but he won't be as torn up about this as some of the others. Why? He simply won't believe you.

He has seen your soul, and it is not the soul of a hater.

Barbatos

"Oh?"

Yeah, get in line. Considering the amount of time travel shenanigans this guy has probably pulled, I have no doubt he has amassed more than his fair share of enemies. More than that, he already knows this is just you blowing off steam. Like Diavolo and Lucifer, this is just water off a duck's back.

Although, depending on how irritated he's feeling at the time of the incident, he may or may not wear a smirk as he gives his noncommittal response. Barbatos might be the man with the multiverse in the palm of his hand, but he is not above being petty. Watch your back for a few days.

Solomon

"Ah... It seems I've hit a nerve! I think I'll give you some time to cool down."

He'll back off and leave you to manage your anger in peace. Then he'll settle in to focus on some project or another that requires his undivided attention. He doesn't want to deal with all the unpleasantness that your words stirred up. Honestly, didn't he get past this sort of thing a few centuries ago? What's a little spat between friends? You don't actually hate him; not after all he's done for you. He can't possibly be feeling insecure...?

Nope, all he's feeling is itchy because of the toxic gas that's starting to pour out of his cauldron. He should open a window.

The Angels

I can't even do Simeon and Luke, because they'd both just be so confused and sad that I'm not sure where I'd go with it besides scolding you for being a bully. You don't just say "I hate you" to angels who are either extremely sweet and attractive or actual children.

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader (6/?)

Not gonna lie, kind of a vent TvT

Seeker!reader has a bad day. Some depressing thoughts, but comfort at the end because *spongebob gif* I NEED ITTTT

Unfair.

The war is fragging unfair.

Rolling over on the berth to face the wall, you curl in on yourself.

You know it’s childish, but you don’t care.

You were meant to be at training half a joor ago. Not training with Starscream. If it was, you might have been stirred by a fraction more purpose, more motivation, enough to drag yourself up and into the skies like nothing was the matter. However, this was solo training. Drills that you’d learned and were supposed to practice daily. Starscream doesn’t usually check whether or not you've been doing them - his optics are keen enough to detect whether or not you’ve been practicing at your weekly sessions.

So it’s a surprise when he bursts into his habsuite - you check your internal chronometer - in the middle of the day, clearly on the hunt for you.

You don't need to turn around to know that he's furious. “What the scrap do you think you’re doing?” Starscream hisses. "This is a war, you know. We don't have time to be lazing about!"

Like you need to be reminded.

However, the rage in his voice becomes increasingly venomous as he stalks angrily towards you. "You know better than everyone else that trust is scarcely found aboard this ship. You know I cannot spend every joor of the solar cycle watching you. Can I not even entrust you with this one simple thing?"

Okay, that hurts. That really hurts, and it's even worse because you know how stressed he is. What happened to not being a burden? It's not like you're unaware of the precious trust Starscream has in you. You don't want to add to his ever-growing list of troubles, but it seems that the universe won't allow you a moment of weakness in peace. Had you ruined that trust between you all in the span of one afternoon?

Sluggishly heaving your frame up, it takes you a while to get to your pedes. Self-loathing weighs you down, heaviness in every step as you berate yourself for essentially rolling over and giving up, even if just for half a solar cycle. Starscream certainly had no such luxury.

"Sorry, sir. I'll go now."

"Don't come back until you can execute it with your optics closed," Starscream growls. He doesn't leave, though, watching you trudge past him with your wings down. You don't look at him on your way out, but he can see that your optics are dim. The defeated slump of your shoulders doesn't sit right with him, and his wings prickle with irritation, optics narrowing when it's clear that you have no intention to say anything. Hadn't he told you not to shut him out?

The wind whistles through the long grass as you trudge across the open plain to your launch pad - a glorified dirt circle burned into the Terran earth from countless precision landings, but you liked it. It was a physical symbol of the innumerable hours you'd poured into training. Well, that didn't mean anything anymore, did it?

Ordinarily, you liked days like this - it felt like the wind was calling to you, urging you to spread your wings and soar. The whistling musicality of the winds also reminded you of your native Vosian - there was something nice about windy days, to feel the lyrical tones wrap around your frame, brushing playfully over your plates and you would shutter your optics and remember home. However, you're unable to find pleasure in it today.

Where you were overwhelmingly numb earlier, a burning despair overtakes you as you take flight. The first set of maneuvers has your altmode screaming through the sky without having warmed your engines first - even as they sputter, working frantically under the weight of your despair, you push yourself even harder. Greater speed, sharper turns. Your pedes slam into the earth with a cacophonous boom at the end of the first circuit, chassis heaving at the sudden burst of exertion. But it's not enough.

Two circuits turns into five, ten, fifty, a hundred… and it’s the one hundredth and fiftieth circuit which forces you to stop your self-inflicted punishment, because you more or less crash land to the ground, all sense of precision lost. There’s no point in trying to stay upright - to your dismay, you realise that your wings are so sore, the right one more than the left, that the unevenness of the strain is tipping you off balance and rendering you unable to walk properly. In your second, shameful surrender today, you allow yourself to collapse to the ground, laying spread-eagled and woozily shuttering your optics against the flare of warnings on your HUD.

You lie on the grass until the burnt orange dusk, awash with purple and pink hues, fades away into darkness. One thing you’ll never tire of, though, is the view of the stars offered by the Terran planet on clear nights. The stars have been your constant during your time on Earth, distant but reliable in their presence. Like someone you know, you think. Absently, you’re wondering if Cybertron is visible from Earth when the sound of dry grass crunching underfoot reaches your audials. Those steps can only belong to one bot, you think, and right on cue, your star appears above you, an unreadable expression on his faceplate.

“A hundred and fifty drills, sir," You mumble tiredly.

For some reason, the expression on Starscream's faceplate morphs abruptly into displeasure. Even more surprising is the way he ex-vents and settles heavily beside you on your landing pad.

For a moment, you both look up at the stars.

"When was the last time we talked about something other than training?" Starscream says.

There's an underlying note of exhaustion in the rasp of his voice.

"I don't know, sir."

"Exactly!" Starscream growls, exhaustion abruptly forgotten in favour of agitation. Feeling the sharp spike of distress in his EM field, you wonder why you're worth so much emotion. Sure, you want to be closer to him. You really look up to Starscream, but as much as it hurts that he purposely keeps you at arms length, it hurts more because you understand why he has to keep his distance. This unexpected display of emotion catches you off guard. Silence falls over you both, and you wonder if it's worth apologizing for how he found you.

"I was weak today," You mumble. "It... it won't happen again." Your timid words are quickly lost to the suffocating silence, stolen away on the winds. Little do you know that it's taking everything in Starscream not to rage outwardly at the skies, at Primus himself for allowing this to happen to you. What he'd feared was coming true - even a spark that shone as bright as yours could not wholly avoid being tainted by vicious Decepticon values when you were exposed to them day in, day out.

He'd forbidden himself from lingering on the thought, but it now bursts unbidden into his processor - you should have been able to grow up in Vos, happy and free. No civil war, not even war with the Quintessons, even if it meant you would never have met. As long as it meant you would have lived a long and happy life. The strength of one over another? He'd been disgusted when so many of his fellow seekers had promptly abandoned their values to impulsively throw themselves behind a leader clearly lacking in experience. Seekers were social creatures - true strength was found in unity, but that was a concept that Megatron simply would not and could not begin to understand.

You have nothing to be ashamed of, he wanted to tell you, you've been doing remarkably well without a social group, without a trine, when your only option is me - he wanted to laugh bitterly at that. You hadn't voiced a word of complaint, sure, but you hadn't been given a choice in whether or not to stay by his side, and the thought twisted unpleasantly through his spark.

The unpleasant feeling only coils tighter around him when he ex-vents tiredly and catches your flinch in your wings - clearly expecting to be berated once again. He feels like he's losing you. Mid-solar cycle, when you looked so resigned with your lot. Had he tried to keep the fight in you alive? On reflection, you'd grown more withdrawn recently. It felt increasingly like a losing battle to keep all of you here, keep your spark untainted by war.

He refuses to believe that it's impossible.

"Come here," Starscream says instead, patting the ground in front of him. "Back to me."

Like you could ever ignore what he commanded of you, despite your exhaustion. Slowly but determinedly, you drag yourself across the long grass to him. Starscream waits in silence, uncharacteristically patient, optics tracking the shaky grip of your servos in the soil, the grimace of pain that flashes across your faceplate.

When you finally manage to arrange yourself in a seated position in front of him, he takes stock of your wings with a critical optic and suffice to say, he does not like what he sees. You've really pushed it too far this time. Plates strung tight, mechanisms locked up with all the tension, wings hanging unevenly at the joints due to imbalanced use - no wonder you couldn't make it back to base. He'll have to be stricter with your posture next time - a pained whine of static escapes your vocaliser even as he keeps his touch feather-light, tracing gently under your ailerons where the mechanisms are most strained. It doesn’t help that your plates feel tender as well, underlying mesh strained to its limits. “Bear with it just a while,” Starscream murmurs, starting to knead with purpose - you gasp and shudder as he digs his fingers in between your wing joints to alleviate their stiffness, firm but not punishing.

“I taught you better than this," He scolds, but the rumble of his voice is low, pitched at a tone intended to soothe. “Training is a privilege, not a punishment. How are you going to progress if you treat your frame so carelessly, hm?”

Starscream is clearly in no mood to elaborate on his display of frustration, so it's back to familiar ground for you both. You'll take it - it's an olive branch that you're grateful for. "Won't happen again, sir," You mumble, wincing as he digs into a particularly sore area.

"Damn right," Starscream growls. "I won't be so lenient next time. Understand?"

You suppose some things don't change, like Starscream's inability to show concern without disguising it under ten layers of empty threats.

Still, olive branch.

"Yes, sir."

Previous / Next

[muffinsin]

Hey, it's platonic anon again, I hope you don't mind me asking, as I have been feeling a little bit insecure lately, if you do one with alcina + daughters separate reactions to a fem head maid reader slowly getting deeper in depression because she has a little pudge that she doesn't like, but it just makes he look like a teddybear, and the maids have been making fun of her recently, and then she stops showing up to work all together, staying in her room and only eating one meal a day?

-platonic anon

Awhh, this is hella adorable, absolutely! :) Imma have to remove Alci though, hunny, I don't write for her though might occaisonally include her in pieces when I feel like it

Also oops, this got way longer than I thought it would, so imma have to split it into 3 parts. This one’s Bela’s

Let's get into it! :)

Masterlists found at pinned; rip, my linking is busted

Bela

Being involved with the maidens by far more than her sisters, professionally so even, Bela notices when you don't show up for work immediately

And at first, she's willing to turn a blind eye to it, thinking that maybe you're simply too tired too work, or in need of a vacation

She does admit, there isn't all that much of that at the castle

But, she likes you

And as such, she's willing to ignore that you aren't working as you should be

That is, for the first two days, at least

She is sure: you know to come to her when in need of a break

It's not like she won't grant you one, so long as it isn't harvesting season or the beginning of winter and all staff members are needed

But it isn't, and your disappearance starts to feel a little...odd

Now, she wouldn't describe herself as someone caring for the maids, head maiden or not

But, she likes you

A kind, loving, hard working woman

Someone she finds: she enjoys spending her time with, and someone she has enjoyed getting to know

Not showing up to work is so...unusual for you. So out of character

And as such, despite what she's sure her sisters would say, she seeks you out

Knocking on the door to your room- despite not having to knock at pretty much any door in the castle due to her status- she waits patiently until you open the door for her

What she takes in has her gasp in surprise and take a step back momentarily

Your room is warm, yes, but the air has adapted a strange scent that has her scrunch up her nose. She never thought she’d want to open a window

You’re curled in bed, underneath the blankets, but she still sees the thick clothing covering you

Briefly, she worries this might be too warm for a little human, but drops the thought again

- temperature wise, you seem well and healthy enough

She takes a step closer again, her golden eyes finding yours at last

You seem…off

Yet now that she stands in front of you, she seems at a loss for words, unsure what to say

It’s not like she’s used to cheering up anyone but her sisters

Glancing to the side, she sees multiple plates by your nightstand

One for each day you spent in your room

Is that all you’ve eaten?

In her mind, she recalls: humans are supposed to eat three days a meal. Especially those hard at work

You don’t speak, only stare at her, as if too tired and drained to do much

For once, she doesn’t mind the lack of respectful bows and what not

For once, she supposes she can let this be a casual, friendly conversation

Still unsure of what to say, she sits by your bed, her flies buzzing anxiously

You look up for a moment, your eyes trailing across her face, down her neck and to her exposed collarbone, her chest and slim hips and waist

You can’t help but fiddle with the blankets, can’t help but compare her build to yours

Normally, you don’t care

But the words from the maidens, the mockery aimed at you, hurt recently

You almost wish you could be like Bela, so confident, so strong, so strikingly beaufiful

You only ever want to be that, you think

“Did…something happen?”, she asks eventually, frowning slightly, as if unsure about her words

She really isn’t sure about this, or how to go about this, and just hopes her awkward words come out right

For once, she wishes she was a little more like Daniela and could effortlessly keep this conversation up and ask whether you’re alright without this awkwardness

You gulp, pulled from your thoughts

It’s a little unusual to see her like this- so…out of her element, almost

Still, you treasure her company, and see what she’s doing

“I’m fine”, you lie, pressing your eyes shut and refusing to whimper

You don’t want to lie to her

You want to tell her all about it, want to even throw your arms around her and cry

Bela’s just always had this aura about her that made you seek her favor and praise

At the same time, you don’t want to drive her away now, don’t want to “bother” her with your problems

She frowns, confused. Hearing your heart quickening and picking up the scent of your sweat, she’s hardly fooled by your answer

Only does she not quite understand why you’d lie. Especially to her

Instead, she does what she often does when her sisters lie to her and she sees through it. She stays quiet

You whimper as her golden eyes stay on you, a gentle gaze, but one that tells you she’s awaiting your response and giving you the opportunity to correct yourself

And, wise enough, you do so

You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you pull away the blankets and pull the hoodie covering you up just slightly, just enough to show her the small pouch at your belly from under your top

Alas, she doesn’t react, unsure what this means

While having been taught to express herself always, Bela is almost a stranger to insecurity- at the very least as it comes to her body

She’s never felt worried about the way she looks, paying little mind to it

You envy her

Then, just when you cover yourself up again, she asks again;

“Did something happen, little one?”

You crack

The nickname is enough for tears to run down your cheeks and- to your surprise- you feel her arm wrap around you

You’re pulled to her, sniffling

You pick up her scent, her elegant perfume and the metallic scent of blood lying underneath, only picked up this close to her

And briefly, just briefly, you have a dark thought, wishing she could just kill those that treated you so unfairly

With her arm around you, you feel impossibly safe- likely unlike most others that are this close to her

You begin to talk, begin to tell her of everything

Of the mockery, of the laughter

Of the little, stabbing comments made here and there

Of the looks

Of the mean glances and words

Of your insecurities and the growing feeling of anxiety and emptiness in you

And Bela?

She doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t talk. She only listens to you, humming occasionally to let you know you have her full attention

It’s a wonderful feeling

As you elaborate and cry a little more, she holds you tighter

She seems a little less awkward now, as if used to hold someone when they cry, and briefly you feel a strike of envy, wondering if there’s other maidens held by her and comforted like this. Then, the feeling fades when you figure; it must be Daniela, her younger sister, who you know cries easily from own experiences of holding and comforting the young woman after one of her episodes

You find, Bela offers the best hugs, though, and likely quite the rare ones

You stay close to her, breathing out a sigh of relief when you finish talking

It’s almost like speaking about it helped

She doesn’t quite understand their behavior, writes it off to the general behavior of scum

She finds, as such, they deserve to be treated just as certain way, too

You’re granted another day of staying in your room until Bela insists you return to work

More surprisingly, though, you find a maid, one of the newer ones, a little shy, but friendly, bring you a meal three times a day that day

She doesn’t say a thing, too nervous in the castle still, but you’re certain she was tasked to do so by Bela

And when you do return to work, anxious and dressed in slightly bigger clothes than normal, as if you could hide away, you find no trace of those who mocked you

Perhaps wickedly, you wonder what happened to them, whether they’ve been dragged away, killed, mauled, toyed with my the sadistic Dimitrescu sisters

Whether Bela in particular killed them. Is killing them. Is hurting them

But it’s like they never even existed, instead

You hear no screams at night. No whispers of what might have happened at all

It’s almost like your problems dissolved into thin air…

And you know you have none other than Bela Dimitrescu to thank for it

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 19

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You stare straight ahead, to humiliated to look at the man next to you. You haven't since you woke up. 

You wallow in confusion, trying to piece together the void in your mind. It's all blank after the shower. No matter how much you try, it just makes your head hurt. 

"You didn't eat much. You feeling okay?" He breaks the silence as he comes in view of the hospital. 

"Yeah, not very hungry," you murmur.  

"You know, I read the insert with the pills, that's one of the side effects. Plus it can really knock you on your butt. Must be what happened last night." 

"Please," you beg; just the mention has you squirming. 

"And fatigue can be a symptom of depression so that might also be why--" 

"I'm sorry," you hide your face in your hands, "I don't remember. I don't want to talk about it." 

"I told you, sweetie," he slows and finds a spot among the lot, "we just slept, alright? I just wanted to keep an eye on you otherwise I would've let you have the bed." 

You curl your fingers and dig them into your eye sockets. He doesn't get it. She doesn't hate him. 

"Please," you sniffle and sit up, "don't tell my mom.' 

"Don't tell--" he hits the button to kill the engine and unbuckles his seat belt, "there's nothing to tell, right?" 

"Yeah, but if... if she thought..." you stammer as you swipe away a glimmer of tears, "she's sick. I don't wanna m-make it worse." 

"Alright, sweetie," he reaches between the seats and squeezes your shoulders, "it can be our little secret." 

You nod a gulp. Your chest racks with the air trapped inside. He lets his hand brush down your arm. 

"Sweetie, it's okay. I'm going to take care of you. You and your mom," he retracts his touch, "now let's go say good morning." 

You undo your belt and get out as he opens the back door. He takes out the balloon and flowers he stopped to pick up on the way. He had you sign the card but your mom will know it wasn't your idea. You're too stupid to think of that. 

You offer to help but he waves you off. You go through the visitor's entrance and up the elevator. He approaches the nurses' station and greets them easily. He makes you feel worse for how sure he is of himself. The world isn't scary to him. The world doesn't mind him being there. 

As you get to your mother's room, you stop short. He nearly collides with your back and he chuckles. 

"Here, honey, you take the flowers," he offers the bouquet, "she's going to love them." 

You turn and take them without argument. They're your only defense. You enter slowly and Steve follows. 

"Morning, honey," he chimes past you, "surprise!" 

"Emf, Steve?" She gurgles as she turns her head one way then the other, "oh, Steve, you're here." 

"Just like we promised," he goes to her and kisses her forehead then gives her the card, tying the balloon to the bed rail. "Brought some flowers." 

"Shouldn't have done all that," she's back to her act, smiling for him as she sits up with an exaggerated effort, "I'll be coming home." 

"I know, just wanted to brighten your day," he shrugs, "we were real worried. Both of us." 

Your mother's eyes skim in your direction and narrow, "she didn't give ya too much trouble, did she?" 

"She's perfect, hon," he assures. "Really, she's been a lot of help. I was in a state and she took good care of me." 

"She did?" She wonders.  

You try not to react. He's lying but you wouldn't want him to tell the truth. You just keep your mouth shut and come forward to offer the flowers. 

"Here," you say, "love you, mom." 

She takes them with a brittle silence then quickly resumes her preening, looking at Steve as she inhales the scent, "oh, so lovely." She lowers them and rests them on her lap, "you didn't happen to bring coffee? I'm dying for a cup." 

"Ah, gee, you know, it slipped my mind," Steve says, "guess there were bigger things." 

"I'll... I'll go to the cafeteria and get some," you offer and feel around your pockets. You forgot your change purse. Shoot. "Erm..." 

"Here," Steve reaches in his back pocket, "it's on me. If you can grab me an orange juice and something for yourself. Thanks, kiddo." 

He hands you a folded twenty from his wallet. You take it reluctantly and glance at your mom. Her eye twitches but she keeps a placid expression. You turn to leave as she quickly forgets you. 

“I missed you so much,” she whines. 

“I know, honey, but we should talk...” 

Those words chase you out the door and prickle the hair along your neck. What are they talking about? He said he wouldn’t tell her. 

You can barely see straight as you walk the halls, losing yourself several times before getting to the elevators. When at last you’ve reached the cafeteria, you struggle to remember what you’re there for. You grab the coffee and an orange juice and pay, keeping the change clutched tight. 

You head back up, lightheaded from the motion of the elevator, and float through the halls, unseen and unbothered by the bodies around you. You feel invisible. Sometimes, you wonder if you’re even a part of the same world. 

You stop outside your mom’s room, the door open. 

“Steve, it’s a lot...” she mutters gloomily. 

“Trust me, Holly, alright?” 

You cough and step through. You put the coffee on the table near your mother’s bed and turn to offer Steve his juice and change. He accepts them as they both stay quiet, almost as if they’re not telling you something. 

“Thanks, kiddo,” he speaks at last and tucks the money away, “you didn’t get anything?” 

“No, it’s okay.” 

You glance at your mother, expecting a gripe. ‘Good you don’t want her spending all your money’. She just reaches for the coffee, a tick in her cheek as she finds no sugar or cream with it. Another mess up.  

“Well, I’ll go get the doctor, have him check you out and see if you’re ready to go,” Steve claps his hands. 

“Sure,” your mother hums and pops the lid off her coffee, “you’re a life saver, honey.” 

- 

Steve drives you and your mother home, a layer of exhaustion settling around all of you. You don’t think your mother got very much sleep at the hospital and your own did little to nip away at your constant sluggishness. Even Steve yawns as he pulls onto the avenue and pulls into your mother’s driveway. 

You get out as he helps your mother from the front seat. You trail them up the porch and skirt around to open the door. Even as you try to be helpful, you feel like you’re in the way. 

Your mother’s hand is shaking pretty bad as Steve gets her into the recliner. You watch from the archway and wring your hands. It feels like forever since you’ve been home. The break in routine has you restless. 

“I’ll stick around for a bit but I got a buddy stopping by later. I’ve been putting it off and he’s starting to get pushy,” he explains, “but you can always call me. Kiddo,” he stands straight, hands on his hips, “you got my number? So you can text.” 

“I don’t have a phone,” you frown. 

“I’ll call ya,” your mother insists over you.  

“Okay, well, I’ll make you something to eat before I head out. Did they give you your meds at the hospital?” He asks. 

You see your mom hesitate. She’s never been one to be coddled. She always told you to back off but with him, she can’t break the facade. Her cheek ticks and she flutters her lashes, her tremour worsening. 

“Oh, Steve, I don’t feel so well. Do you have to go?” She moans. 

“Honey, did you take your meds?” He repeats more firmly. 

“Ugh, yes, okay?” She huffs and drops back on the recliner. “You don’t have to remind me I’m sick.” 

Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head, “I’m making sure you don’t get worse. Don’t talk to me like that.” 

“I’m sorry,” she heaves and hides behind her hand, “I’m so stressed and it’s just... horrible to not be able to stuff on your own.” 

“Doesn’t mean you get to take it out on everyone else,” he reprimands. He sounds mad. You’ve never heard him like that. “Look, I gotta get moving around here. You think about what we talked about.” He turns and winces as he sees you, almost like he forgot you. “Kiddo, why don’t you go chill out? It’s been a long morning.” 

You nod and quickly retreat, thankful for the opportunity to be alone. 

[sweaterkittensahoy]

So, imagine you're a teenager from rural Arkansas who grew up working on the family farm equipment. And you grow up in the poverty of the Depression, then as you first come to an age of understanding the world, a war breaks out.

And then that war hits Pearl Harbor.

And you, teenager from rural Arkansas, end up a mechanic because you grew up working on farm equipment, and you're really fucking good at it. And at the age of 19--probably the same age your parents married, frankly--you're in charge of a whole crew of other mechanics for an entire bombing company. And you are considered the absolute best of the best. You're not just respected; you're talked to as an equal. You're teased by men way above your own status but in a friendly and welcoming way.

And you are so goddamn good at what you do that one of the very best pilots in that whole company absolutely believes that you can fix a serious issue while he taxis on the runway and you balance on the landing gear.

And then you do it.

And then that pilot doesn't come back.

*

And imagine you're a guy from Wisconsin with wishes of being a gangster from New York City, so you create yourself a bit of a persona, all charm and swagger and quick smiles. And you go to flight school and meet a guy who looks like your childhood best friend, and when you nickname him the same as that guy, this other guy doesn't stop you. And he doesn't like any of your vices. But he doesn't care that you have them. He doesn't mind being around them. Enjoys watching you act out and enjoys riling you up as well.

And he tells you, "You need a pass to London," and you invite him along, meaning it, but also not surprised when he turns you down. Because he doesn't paint the town red. He has fun in his own way. Like picking up a full-grown Husky and dancing with him to the slow song the band is playing.

And you go to London and drink and fuck and start realizing your own mortality. And then you see how bad the bombing run really was, and you call in and find out that your dearest friend in the world (so dear that no matter how casual you come off, everyone knows how devoted you are to each other), didn't come back.

From a raid you could have been on.

*

And imagine, one last time, you're a navigation genius who makes the best charts in the whole company. And your best friend is damn near as good as you but just needs a little confidence. So fucking good is he, in fact, that he can pick up on the fly when you're sick and take care of those boys you both care about so much.

You give him your good luck charm and tell him to keep it. He never tells you he kisses it or puts it where he can always see it when he's scared.

And your best friend knows you don't actually like the part where you have to be in the bomber, and he gives you a gift: When asked to be the one to stay on the ground (where he wouldn't have to fight air sickness to do his job), he says no. And gets you the job instead.

Because you love each other. You care for each other. You take care of each other.

And then he doesn't come back. On a mission you personally plotted for the whole company. On a mission that might have been yours if you'd stayed in the air.

And his wife says hello to you in all her letters and the way she signs her name makes your best friend smile like nothing has ever gone wrong in the world.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 20)

Hello lovelies, and welcome back to Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics! It's been a while, and for that, I'm sorry. I've been (and still am) going through a bit of a depressive episode. November's typically a tough month for me for a couple of reasons, but it hit harder than usual this year. Still, I wanted to come back and bring you another installment of Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics, just in case anyone needs a little Sterek to get them by like I have.

Side note: I'm actually thinking of doing a some, like, "feature" posts where I rec a single fic at a time, regardless of whether or not I've already rec'd it through this series, and actually explain what I like about the fics. Give a little endorsement, if you will. As much as I love all of the fics I have recommended throughout this series, I definitely have some go-to staple fics that I re-read with far more frequency than others. I can think of at least 3 off of the top of my head right this second...

Idk. Would any of you be interested in that? I might do it no matter what, just to have something to engage my brain a bit, but I have also been nearly catatonic with brain fog and just a general exhaustion of life, so. We'll see.

Okay, enough of my yappin'!

As ever and always, thank you all so much for all of the love and support you've shown this series. It genuinely warms my heart when I get a notification for this series, and I appreciate you all so much. I hope you've all found some new favorites and/or got to dig back into an old favorite or two along the way. There won't be too many more parts, but I'm going to try to stretch this bitch out to 25 parts because it's a tasty number to my brain.

I hope you're all having a good day, if not a great one! Smoochies and squeezies, lovelies!

List and links to previous parts below the cut.

************************************************************************

DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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The Horror of Our Love by Melpomene (Aconitehart) (E | 1/1 | 4,941)

"I'm not wearing a muzzle," Derek snaps.

"Look, if you wear this then we're golden! There's no way you can bite through this, Deaton said so."

"Oh well, if Deaton says," Derek says snidely. It's a silly argument. Sure, Deaton is shady and enjoys bending the truth on occasion, but unless it's a complex assassination plan he wouldn't lie about this. Something that Stiles knows that Derek is aware of.

"There's really no reason for him to lie," Stiles points out. "What's your real problem with it?"

"It's demeaning," Derek says through gritted teeth.

"What? No! Lots of werewolves have to wear one of these," Stiles says, waving the muzzle around. The leather and clasps jingle.

Derek sneers at him. "Wolves who can't control themselves."

"Pot and kettle, buddy. Wait, wait," Stiles says hurriedly when Derek turns to leave, "let's just... let's try it, okay? Come on, have I steered us wrong before?"

-

In which Derek can't control himself while having sex with Stiles and needs to be muzzled.

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Burial Rituals by aurevell (G | 1/1 | 4,989)

The necromancer freezes halfway over the fence, stuttering to a halt the second Derek flashes his red eyes. It’s an awkward pose to hold: leg hiked up over the waist-high bars, hands gripping the rail for balance. The fence’s wrought-iron spears dig into his calf a bit as he settles, clearly caught off guard.

“Uh,” he says lamely, his face pale in the scant moonlight. “Shit.”

Derek guards an abandoned cemetery. Stiles is the necromancer trying to break in.

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Devoured by Hedwig221b (E | 1/1 | 5,298)

Breathless, Stiles shifted his gaze up and went red from the knowing smirk on the deific face. The man’s red eyes sparkled in the moonlight, glowing like two fires on the tips of the candles. One of his thick eyebrows was lifted in amusement.

He was the most beautiful being Stiles had ever seen. As was probably expected, considering he was the god of sexual desire.

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Satisfaction Brought It Back by Snare (E | 1/1 | 7,223)

Derek doesn't know how nobody else seems to notice the large, ever-present bulge in Stiles' jeans. He can't help but be curious about it, he just - he just wants.

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Lay Me Out by Melpomene (Aconitehart) (E | 2/2 | 8,967)

"This is weird," Stiles tells him. His hands are still on Derek's chest. "Is this weird? Are you even sentient enough to think things are weird?"

Derek's tail wags back and forth, brushing against his calves and stirring up the fallen leaves. And the licking? It doesn't stop. Derek keeps at it, licking Stiles' cheeks, his forehead, that sensitive spot behind his ears. Stiles tries to twist away, much braver now that he hasn't been mauled, but there's no escape.

"Okay," Stiles croaks out. He pushes at Derek's shoulders, his chest. "Let me up, big guy, come on."

When Derek doesn't move, Stiles arches up, trying to wriggle free, but then he feels something wet and sticky against his stomach where his shirt has ridden up. He cranes his neck down and sees Derek's dick. It's distinctly non-human; red, with a tapered tip. Clear fluid drips from it.

"Oh holy god," he says, horrified and fascinated. "Is that - oh fuck."

-

In which Derek has sex with Stiles while in the Alpha form

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to be with those I like by sheafrotherdon (E | 1/1 | 9,323)

It's Deaton who tells Derek that Stiles is back in town, a broken marriage behind him, his daughter in tow.

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How We Got Here by Areiton (E | 1/1 | 9,718)

Maybe if you fight the creatures of the night together like they did, if you bury enough friends and strangers and enemies, you don’t lose touch.

He thinks that’s why he and Derek are friends--because Derek understands his nightmares, understands the nights when he can’t talk, and the nights he can’t stand the dark.

OR: Against all odds and expectations, Stiles and Derek have become respectable adults ( WHY?) and friends.

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Lunches, Knitting and Definitely Not Dating by attackofthezee (noxlunate), noxlunate (T | 1/1 | 10,107)

“So, I uh, managed to get myself pregnant.”

“You what?!”

“Got myself pregnant. Y’know, up the duff, knocked up, a bun in the oven, in a family way, eating for two, with child. I could go on Dad, really, stop me before I exhaust the list of pregnancy euphemisms. There’s still caught an 18 year STD, my eggo is preggo, building a person-“

“Stiles.”

“Hosting a parasite, harboring a fugitive-“

(Just a weird mpreg fic with Derek and Stiles totally kinda dating without realizing it, and Stiles figuring out this whole having a baby thing.)

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(they say) this should feel something like fire by dallisons (E | 1/1 | 11,163)

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

"Turn it off." The pack looked up, stunned into silence by the first words they'd heard from him in weeks.

Stiles stood, trembling - his knees weak. He tried to run and collapsed, his bad leg failing him once again. Derek caught him. "Turn it off," he said, his voice unmistakably a growl.

The water continued leaking from the loose faucet, and all Stiles heard was Erica's blood against the concrete. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip.

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Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of by Lissadiane (NR | 1/1 | 14,953)

It's a cold, snowy night and Stiles is halfway through his shift at the campus coffee shop when a tall, dark and handsome stranger walks in, one who seems unaware that he's being haunted by a wolf.

In which Stiles Stilinski sees the ghosts of animals with unfinished business, and Derek Hale is unaware that his dearly departed sister left a few things unfinished.

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Untouchable by Hedwig221b (E | 1/1 | 17,128)

The day Stiles Stilinski entered the Berkeley campus was the day all the alphas went absolutely fucking nuts.

See, omegas were rare, even more than redheads. Got to be extremely fucking lucky to even see one in a lifetime. They were supposed to be these ethereal creatures of beauty and elegance, irresistible and blinding.

And Stiles Stilinski was exactly that.

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Camaro '68 by ZainClaw (E | 1/1 | 17,707)

Derek huffs, arching one eyebrow. "I'm not a fugitive." "You look like a fugitive," Stiles insists, practically beaming. "Maybe you should start wearing cardigans."

In which Stiles is a hitchhiker and Derek a runaway whose paths cross at a gas station in the California desert.

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Cross a Canyon (with a broken limb) by theroguesgambit (T | 1/1 | 18,010)

“You never graduated,” Stiles says, just to say it. To test it out in the open air. That's... huh.

--

Stiles spends his senior year battling troll-gremlins, taking on an unexpected tutoring job, and definitely not falling for a certain sourwolf (even though everyone else seems to think he is).

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Do You Wanna Date My Avatar? by Renmackree (T | 9/9 | 18,399)

Scott frowned, grabbing the game case and reading it out loud.

“Become the Hero you've always wanted to be. Battle monsters, witches, dragons, and all the mythical beasts of the World of Fantasy. Play as a Human, Elf, Dwarf and other special races included in the basic game. Stiles this so stupid. Who the hell would want to play as a Werewolf?” Scott threw the game back on the bed and leaned back in the chair.

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We Only Get Better by Ninna_7 (T | 8/8 | 22,741)

Stiles doesn't call him these days. Not since he left Beacon Hills that last time. Not since Stiles left the FBI internship programme in favour of studying Forensic Psychology at NYU. Stiles has texted him a few times in the past, but he never called. Not anymore. Back then, however, whenever Derek received a call from Stiles or called Stiles in return, it was purely for survival's sake. So Derek doesn't know what to expect from this call. If he's being honest, he's scared of it.

x

Or: It's been years since Stiles and Derek last spoke, but a phone call from the human reconnects them. They have the chemistry, the history and the shared trauma. With time and each other, maybe they can have more.

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part-time soulmate, full-time problem by Renmackree (E | 1/1 | 27,111)

Stiles had seen it all in his five years of supernatural shenanigans, but never in his life would he have guessed returning to Derek's old stomping grounds in New York, especially under the guise of Derek's magical Mate.

It was going to be an exciting summer.

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The Light in the Woods series by DiscontentedWinter (5 works | G-M | 36,507)

1. The Lights in the Woods (T | 8/8 | 12,293) To honour a treaty with the people of a strange land, Derek Hale, prince of the kingdom of Triskelion, has to marry Stiles. 2. The Gift of the Trees (T | 1/1 | 4,780) Stiles is everything that Derek ever wanted... almost. 3. Moonflower (G | 1/1 | 3,331) Stiles and Derek's son finds his magic. 4. The Path of the Wolf (G | 1/1 | 5,206) Faolán has to find his own path. 5. The Heart of the Wolf (M | 4/4 | 10,897) Etienne Argent is rescued by a strange young man in the woods.

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In Any Version of Reality by alisvolatpropiis (E | 7/7 | 39,853)

Standing next to not-Derek – whoa, holding not-Derek’s hand? – is someone who looks remarkably like Stiles. Is Stiles, a slightly-altered replica, just like this guy both is and isn't Derek.

It’s not like looking into a mirror – one, because looking into a mirror actually makes some kind of sense, and two, because not-Stiles looks older too, mid twenties maybe. And the tips of his short, spiky hair are dark purple, and he’s got a lip ring and he’s shirtless and covered in tattoos and what the holy hell?

“Time travel?" He's sufficiently freaked. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears his dad laughing.

“Not exactly,” not-Derek says, and shit, even his voice sounds exactly the same, disconcertingly gentle. He gestures behind him, and Stiles looks over his shoulder, where behind him, scattered across the porch and in the front yard, are more…Dereks and more Stileses.

Fourteen total, including the two at the door, he notes distantly, eyes feeling like they’re about to pop out of his head from bulging so hard.

Seven other Dereks. Seven other Stileses.

Seven Derek and Stiles pairs.

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The Moon Gave Me Permission by Melpomene (Aconitehart) (E | 9/9 | 57,572)

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” Scott says, eyeing Stiles’ fries. “But Derek Hale is back in town. I saw him at the gas station the other day.”

This piques Stiles’ interest. Oh yes it does. Like any good true crime aficionado, Stiles has his favourite case. His pet cold case. His hometown murder. The thing he brings up when he’s tired of small talk and just wants to get real.

The Hale Family Fire and the suicide of Katherine Argent.

Stiles knows this case inside and out. He’s racked up thousands of karma points on reddit for his thoughtful analysis, his pictures of the crime scene, and of his reporting of local gossip. Beacon Hills is a small town, small enough that Stiles is the only one on the Unresolved Mysteries subreddit to have actually seen the burnt out shell in person.

He’ll tell anyone who listens what he finds fascinating about the case. Absolutely no shame. He’s read all of the articles, he’s pestered his father’s deputies for more information, and he’s read every cold case compilation book that so much as mentions it.

No one knows this case like Stiles does.

-

In which Derek Hale is a man with a dark past, and Stiles is completely obsessed with him.

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The Soul Knows What the Heart Wants by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (M | 9/9 | 163,779)

“Holy—shit,” Stiles breathed, Bacon stopping in what he was doing, still staring at him intently, as if begging him to understand, for someone to finally understand. Stiles felt like he’d been electrocuted and he leapt out of his chair, kneeling in front of Bacon and grabbing at his furry face. “Holy shit! Oh my God, are you—wait, holy—you’re not fucking with me, right?!”

Bacon let out two quick barks, which Stiles chose to interpret as ‘no.’

“Oh my God, are you a real person in there?!” Stiles shouted in the wolf’s face, staring him right in the eye. He was still holding the wolf’s head with both hands, but Bacon dipped his muzzle in confirmation and Stiles officially lost his mind.

“Oh my God!” he shouted again, releasing Bacon to clutch at his own hair. “Oh my God! Dude, for real?! You’re—holy shit! Holy shit!” He didn’t know how to react to this news. He had no fucking idea how to react. This was a person?! But how?! How was this a person?! People didn’t just turn into wolves!

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************************************************************************

[lawofangie]

Hello. I just saw your post about your manifestation journey while struggling with depression and I’ll probably just be another rant about “how difficult it is to manifest”, but honestly I just want to talk a little bit.

I’m at work right now. I’m a trainee in a law office and my relationship with my boss is deteriorating gradually.

While I was at school, I would always think that I would be happier at a job, because I like to feel useful and competent. But now that I have a job, I just feel miserable.

I already received complaints twice about “being distracted” and “not doing my best”, which came as shocking because I’ve been doing my best. I have two bosses and while one looks like she really appreciates me, the other one might be the contrary.

I always fails to do what she wants me to do.

So I have been having really tiresome dreams. I had one where they asked me to type a document and after a while it turns out it was a “you are fired document” and asked me to sigh it.

They laughed and said that “I wasn’t doing enough” and “I wasn’t attending my classes at college” which I WAS but it didn’t matter.

I actually can’t imagine my life better. It’s like my mind just blocks it from me. I feel like I can’t delude myself even if that’s what I want the most.

I really want to just escape and live happily but I just feel trapped and miserable. I think I can predict what you are going to advice me but…I just don’t know what to do. I’m scared.

this is actually kind of relatable. i've felt similarly at many points in my life, i struggled to function, i thought external things would make me happy, applying the law was difficult. i couldn't imagine my life any better either. i understand where this is coming from, i'll try to give less generic advice, but i'm going to be brutally honest, and, this still won't be anything special. its important to remember that regardless of what i say here, manifestation is still just assuming you have your desire and persisting in that fact.

anyways, it honestly gets to a point where you have to realize that you're just wasting your time feeling trapped and scared. you're doing yourself a disservice. no one and nothing can save you, nor is anything or anyone going to. as unfortunate as your circumstances are, you have to do it yourself.

you have to take what you want and prioritize that above how you feel, anyone's made you feel, and how anyone feels about you. your life is meant to revolve around you and no one else. its YOUR life for a reason.

you SHOULD NOT waste the best years of your life being miserable, feeling like a failure, like a victim, like you can't change, like you're trapped like this forever when that's completely illogical. everyone and everything changes. people change in age, appearance, personality, sexuality, preferences, etc. it's physically impossible to be incapable of change unless you're not alive. people change all the time.

you genuinely do not have the time to be so self loathing and miserable, not when you're going to literally grow old one day. and according to those who've made it there already, that day comes fast. do you want to look back at your life at 80 and see what you wasted it doing? when all this information was right in your face? when all you had to do was take a chance and have some faith in yourself?

changing yourself isn't impossible, you're just too scared to assume anything good about yourself, perhaps because you've gotten so used to being miserable. "changing yourself", by the way, just so we're clear, simply means to assume something new about yourself. for example, you already believe you are a failure, and to change would be to simply assume you're successful. that's quite literally it. you just believe in something without physical proof, that's assuming. we assume all the time. you're just assuming about yourself now. the law is extremely simple to utilize, but it's the simplicity that leads to people overcomplicating it themselves.

also, delusion is, by definition, a false belief that is resistant to change, even when presented with evidence that it is not true. an assumption, by definition, is a belief that is taken as true without proof or evidence. you need to realize the difference here. we are telling you to assume, not to delude yourself. we are promising you that the "proof" comes after you've fully accepted it as true. we're not telling you to actively deny something despite accepting it as true. what would be the point in that? if we're telling you that your assumptions, aka the things you believe to be true without proof manifest, why would we tell you to continue to accept something you don't want as true? does that make sense?

being delusional and making an assumption may seem similar in theory, but in practice, they are completely different. one is literally the result of a mental illness, the other is a very normal, very human behavior that we do every day. we make assumptions about ourselves, people, and situations. all. the. time. it seems like it's only a problem and called "delusional" when it's about yourself, and it's something good.

it's like being confident in yourself, believing in your abilities despite what others have to say about you. for example, you have a great confidence in a talent or skill, and the you believe that you will get better as you get older/more experienced/more knowledgeable, and you'll make it places and have great opportunities in the future. let's say some random person decides to insult you and say that you'll never make it anywhere in life. would it be "delusional" to not listen to them? to not let someone else dictate your future? or would that simply be having some faith in yourself and not letting others define you?

this is literally all we're telling you to do, believe in yourself even if your reality seems to be against you. don't fight it, just accept that the unfavorable isn't true and move on. continue to believe in yourself.

and besides, if any person successful to date operated with that "i don't see it so it's not true" mindset, they wouldn't have become successful, would they? would anyone accumulate any kind of success with a mindset like that? the people who have came from nothing and made it to where they were now, had an unwavering confidence in their abilities and the fact that they'd be something one day. despite what anyone's told them, or tried to project onto them, it didn't get through to their unwavering sense of self.

the point is, we are promising you something. all it takes is for you to have some confidence in yourself. to quit hurting yourself. is that so hard?

anyways, the point of manifesting is when you change yourself, the things in your external reality change.

assuming is easy. believing things to be true without proof is easy. you just have to get comfortable with the fact that you need to change before anything changes externally. again, instead of believing you are a failure, that you are trapped, you simply assume you are successful, and you are not trapped.

people also change their minds all the time, they grow to have a different opinion, they realize they were wrong, they want to give something else a chance, or without a reason, they simply change their mind. these things are not impossible, they happen all the time.

i'm saying this to say that manifesting isn't being delusional. to be delusional is feeling stuck and like things can't change, when they so clearly do, all the damn time. you're not special enough for the concept of change to not apply to you. for instance, you are certainly not the same person you were when you were 6 compared to however old you are right now. you changed, therefore you are capable of changing, and i proved it to you with that simple example.

you only feel stuck because you decided you are, you decided that you'll never be unstuck, and so you haven't been. the law is working, just not in your favor. everything you see in your reality right now, perfectly matches whatever you've assumed to be true. that is not a coincidence. it's important to remember that the law isn't a thing with feelings, it does not care about you or your situation. all it does is continue to operate. it's up to you to use the law's indifference to your advantage.

also, you seem to have a victim mindset. it's very obvious in the way that you try to explain yourself, that you were doing as you were supposed to, but it still 'didn't matter'. you're putting so many things (your job, your bosses, proving yourself) on a pedestal, over what really matters, which is yourself. do you even like your job? did you pursue something you were passionate about? because if not, then you have no business subjecting yourself to any kind of mistreatment, not when you didn't even want to be there in the first place. you should be putting yourself and your desires before even thinking about pleasing anyone or meeting any kind of requirement.

your own standards and requirements should come first. remember : you chose to work for them. you have a choice. you also need to remember that your bosses and colleagues are regular people. outside of work (and in the workplace if we're being honest) they have no kind of power over you. you shouldn't be letting such irrelevant people in your life have the power to instill so much fear in you, to the point where you're having literal nightmares.. about typing a document incorrectly.

also, about feeling useful and competent, that's something you have to decide about yourself. are you useful? are you competent? do you honestly feel this way about yourself? definitely not, which is why you're seeking validation from others. but at the same time, it is what's made you so miserable, because you're definitely not getting that validation. and any you get only gives you a short lived feeling of satisfaction. your opinion on yourself matters more than what anyone has to say. that's literally why confidence and insecurity exist. and either way, you still feel a certain way about yourself that outweighs anything anyone has to say about you.

here's another example, let's say you've been insecure about your looks from a young age. if one day, someone randomly tells you you're beautiful or they think you're pretty, is all the insecurity you've felt for years suddenly going to go away? or will your mind find reasons to reinforce the fact that you don't feel beautiful? and if someone confirmed your insecurities, saying you weren't their type, they didn't find you attractive, wouldn't you just justify that reaction in your mind since you feel that way about yourself already?

with that in mind, how much does anyone's words really matter? do the words of others honestly have any significance when they aren't reinforcing something you already believe about yourself?

your reality works in a similar way. whatever you decide to assume/ accept as true/ shift your awareness to/ decide is true/ feel is certain, your reality will reflect. as well as a bunch of reasons to continue believing whatever it is is true. the law is very indifferent and has no bounds. it does not care about your feelings, your specific circumstances, and so on. that's why i'm telling you, you only feel these ways and experience the things you do, because you decided you were. this goes for being miserable, being stuck, feeling useless, feeling incompetent and living in fear. there are no exceptions.

so, with all that said, what do i suggest? first off, you need to practice being secure in yourself. work on being confident in yourself first, then work on your self concept. i say "confidence" as in feeling secure in yourself within the 3d. so, your looks, your body, your social skills, your physical skills, etc. because "self concept" has to do with having confidence in your manifestation abilities. find a helpful method that works for you, like affirming, visualizing, scripting, rampaging, or just simply deciding something new about yourself and accepting it.

self confidence has to do with things like liking yourself, being your own validation, having optimistic thoughts about yourself, and self efficiency. you can't care about what others think, you have to put yourself first, and you can't let anyone dictate your future. be selfish. the only thing that should matter is you and how something makes you feel. nothing bad comes from putting yourself first and not worrying about others.

once you feel confident in yourself, or even while working on your confidence, practice using the law. you could start by manifesting something small, something specific that would prove to you that you can manifest, then work your way up. manifest bigger things or just a large quantity of things, just to prove to yourself that there aren't any limits. remember, manifesting is just assuming: believing something to be true without proof. i mean that in the most literal, simplest way possible. like the example of success i used earlier.

once you've proven to yourself that manifestation is indeed real, play around with it. also, work on your self concept. decide that things always go well for you, that you deserve good things, you're the creator of your reality, learn to mentally reject unfavorable things in the 3d, and so on. this is what i would do if i were you.

i know this was kind of long, but i hope you understand my words and find them useful. feel free to dm me or send another ask if you have anymore questions. 🩶

[redr0sewrites]

Hi Rose! I hope you're still writing for Hazbin because I have a Vox request! I enjoyed your Vox fluff/comfort hcs from a while ago and it made me need more soft!Vox if that's something you're comfortable with writing. Specifically I've been going through a pretty major depressive episode lately (not in a dangerous way, just in the sense that something happened where I feel like I've failed one too many times and it's past the point where I can just pick myself up and try something new), so maybe something with Vox comforting the reader through that? I feel like he might be able to relate given that he's such a perfectionist and clearly doesn't handle rejection well, so I can see him having practical advice and guiding me through concrete solutions, but also I just want him to hug me and let me cry on his shoulder for a long time😭 Thank you!!! I appreciate your writing so much!

🥀A/n: i've had this in my inbox for a WHILE (sorryyyy <\3) so i hope ur feeling better now nonnie!!! i totally get the feeling, and i loved writing this request <33

🥀Cw: fluff, angst w comfort, negative self views, mental health themes

🥀Character(s): Vox x reader

your breath came out in hiccuping gasps as you struggled to maintain any sense of control. you sat hunched over on your bed, shaking uncontrollably as tears stream down your face. it had been another long day, and god, you just felt like a screw up. it seemed no matter how hard you tried, every day always left you with that same feeling of emptiness, just as it had been every other day for the past few months. you were so, so tired of everything, of getting no satisfaction from things you usually enjoyed, and of having to fight just to remain somewhat sane. it was truly and utterly exhausting. you lean back against the headboard, a soft thump accompanying your heads' collision with the sturdy wood. as your tears continue.

the slam of your bedroom door causes you to pause, and you flinch from the sudden illumination of your hunched figure.

"where were you? i called you twice, what-" Vox storms in, hands waving about, only for him to pause at the sight of you. his harsh tone only makes you cry harder, pulling your knees up to your chest.

"i'm- sorry, i-i turned my phone off-" you force out your words, fighting to keep yourself from bursting into tears again, but its no use. your shoulders shake in silent sobs as you cover your face with your hands, embarrassment overcoming you.

"oh, oh its okay, its fine-" Vox struggles with his words. for all of his blustering confidence in public, when it came to genuinely comforting someone, he was clueless.

"i'll be right back, i promise!" he practically shouts, racing out of the door. in the few seconds he's gone, you can't help but spiral deeper. why couldn't you just try harder, be better than this? you're so fucking stupid, god, of course he was angry at you. you don't hear Vox when he returns, and you jump when the mattress dips and a clawed hand begins gently rubbing your back. you sniffle softly, and the only sound in the room is your heavy sobs.

"shh, i brought you some water," Vox murmurs, voice uncharacteristically low. "did someone hurt you? because i swear, if someone even laid a finger in you im going to fucking-"

"no one hurt me, Vox," you swallow hard. "m fine, really, i just- its fine."

Vox is silent for a few more moments, and even though you can't see him as your face is still buried in your hands, you can practically feel his gaze on you.

"was it.. me? did i do something?"

this startles you, and you raise your head to look at him.

"w-what? no, of course not, 'm just- i had a long day, is all. i just feel so... stuck."

you blink at his screen, tears settling on your lashes. he stares back, studying you with a concerned gaze. he doesn't offer any words of encouragement, you know that's not his strong suit anyway. instead, he gently takes both of your hands in his, handing you the glass of water and slowly guiding it to your mouth. he watches as you take a sip before placing it on your night stand, before opening his arms and motioning for you to come closer. you happily oblige, melting into his side and wrapping your arms around his waist. he leans back against the headboard and you stay like that for a while, softly crying into his shoulder as he rubs your back and holds you steady. as your sobs begin to subside, you pull away to look at him again.

"i'm just so.. tired. tired of this, tired of feeling weak and overwhelmed. fuck, i just wish..." you trail off, melting back into his embrace again. Vox is silent for a few moments, contemplating what to say.

"i think your great, y'know that?"

"what..?"

"i think your great, wonderful, and so talented. you're the best partner i could ever ask for, and im so lucky to have you. you know that, right?"

"mhm..?" you hum questioningly, unsure of his objective.

"now, i know i'm not good at this sort of thing, and i know its tough, but i want you to know that, i'm, i'm here, y'know? and if you're ever, like, having a moment like this, you don't need to hide. i'm here, and i understand." Vox waves his hands as he talks, and you reposition to lean against his chest.

"i know, and its okay. 'm lucky to have you too," you mumble, and he chuckles lowly.

"is that so? you're going to give me a complex if you keep this up, baby."

"good. 'cause your the best."

"only for you."

you giggle at that, knowing that its true, and Vox smiles. he'd do anything for that sound, for your happiness. and, as you slowly drift off to sleep, you know that you'll be okay for that exact reason. you may not feel okay now, but you will, because he'll be right there beside you, on both good and bad days.

erm. hello hazbin hotel community. im slinking back like a toxic ex rn...... ANYWAYS !!! HOPE U ENJOYED !!!! its been a hot minute since i wrote for HH in general, esp for vox, so apologies if the characterization is ehhhh. PSLPSLSPSLSPSL SEND IN REQUESTS IVE BEEN DYING RECENTLY MY INBOX IS BONE DRY IT COULD BE FOR THE 2K EVENT OR JUST SOMETHING RANDOMMM (also especially some vox, lucifer, adam, or lute requests plspslsps)

[forbebeandjam]

THE DINER | Bada Lee x Fem Reader | angst

Summary: you’d do anything for the girl you met at THE DINER

Word count: 2.1k

TRIGGER WARNING: this story contains sensitive topic such as murder, blood, jail, and psychologically issues.

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED

A/N: hi!! This is a short story inspired by the song “THE DINER” in Billie Eilish’s album HIT ME HARD AND SOFT. I was afraid that I might not be able to express the lyrics through this but I still hope you like it. I’m also not used to writing angst so… yeah. Have a good day or night!!🤍🙂‍↕️

You sat at a small diner in your hometown. All alone. It was almost two in the morning. You had a small cake with a candle in front of you. You, with psycho tendencies, celebrated your 25th birthday on your own. No kid ever wanted to befriend you and you ended up trying to make friends at some point.

So all you did was work from home. Your mother and father split up when you turned eighteen leaving you in that small home all by yourself. You learned that you could never lean on anyone for anything. All you could do was grow attached to fictional characters you watched after work.

You didn't go out much so no one really knew you. You didn't know anyone either. You never wanted to. What was the point either way?

They would end up walking away after a while, leaving you empty and lonely.

So you spent birthday after birthday in your bed, reading books and mangas that your online friend sent you. The only person you truly liked and trusted...

She forgot your birthday. How great! All alone again.

So maybe going out for your birthday wouldn't be such a bad idea.

You let out a deep sigh as you rested your chin on the palm of your hand. You twirled the lighter around your fingers, thinking that maybe setting the place on fire would bring some sort of warmth and comfort to your heart. Maybe even some satisfaction.

"Can I take your order?" You heard a sweet voice. As you looked up, your eyes met with her. The most beautiful girl you've ever met. You looked at the name tag and back at her eyes quickly.

"Um... no, I'm just here for a little bit. I'll blow the candles and vanish," you said and she gasped.

"It's your birthday? Oh my! Happy birthday!!" She said making your guts feel warm.

"Thank you, Miss Bada. But there is nothing happy about my birthday," you replied with a soft blush.

"Oh please. Call me Bada. Also, why not be happy? You're alive and healthy, right? Let's celebrate that!" She exclaimed. The diner was empty with only her and a cook in the kitchen.

"I am sitting here, alone, at two in the morning thinking about burning this place down. Don't you think that's kind of depressing? Crazy even?" You asked as you set the lighter in front of her.

She pulled out a cigarette out of her apron and placed it between her lips.

"You have me now, don't you? You're not alone," she picked up the lighter from the table and lit the cigarette. You started at her in awe. You couldn't believe how gorgeous she looked. How did someone so perfect live in this shitty town?

"Besides, let's be honest. If you burned this place down, you'd be doing me a huge favor," she said with a wink. That didn't. She had you. You were at your knees for her.

"Come on. Let's light your candles," she said as she lit the candles with your lighter. She sang you a soft birthday tune, and you blew the candles feeling the happiest you've been in twenty-five years.

That night, you ate food with her and chatted for hours. She told you she moved here to care for her parents and that she was pretty lonely herself, so you promised to come to the diner every night.

You did what you didn't want to. You let her into your life, hoping she didn't leave. It was just that, her perfect smile and the sweetness of her voice melted you. Her ey smile was now your weakness, and you couldn't think about anything else but Bada.

-

And so the days passed. You would be at the diner at midnight, and she would clock in to do her job. The place was often times empty so you two would have time to chat and laugh around.

However... you started to notice something odd about her. Her attitude was drastically changing. She looked tired and sad her clothes covered more of her body and she would sigh deeply when she was with you.

She wasn't laughing anymore, and you wanted to kill whatever was making her feel that way and make it suffer as well. 

One night, she didn't sit with you at all. She kept walking past as she served two tables. You wanted to call her name but she was just ignoring you. You had enough and grabbed her arm making her flinch and spill some hot coffee on your leg.

You hissed and she apologized as she bent down to clean your leg with a rag. The hot liquid left a red mark on your skin but you could only pay attention to Bada. 

"You shouldn't come here anymore. Please," she said and left without an explanation. 

"Wait!" you said but she disappeared into the kitchen. You saw the cook look at you from his window. He gave you a nasty look and a smirk before disappearing as well. At that moment something took over you. 

You stood up and fixed your skirt before walking to the kitchen where you found the cook holding Bada's arm tightly and he was about to hit her. You used your body to push him on the ground. 

You took one of the knives on the counter and stabbed his stomach with it. 

"No! OH MY GOSH!" Bada shouted. She pulled out her phone and called the cops. You looked at her in awe. 

"But... but I thought you loved me," you said and she covered her mouth. She ran out of the kitchen and you shrugged. You knew you'd do anything to protect her and she would come to her senses. 

You walked out of the kitchen where you saw people's horror faces when they saw you, covered in blood with bright smiles trying to look for Bada. 

She was in the bathroom trying to calm herself down when you walked in. 

"Y/N, you need to leave," she said as she grabbed paper towels and cleaned your hands and face with them. 

"But you, love me right? You need to marry me and kiss me on the head after an argument that you will most likely win. Please..." you said. 

You heard the sirens outside and Bada looked at you. 

"Stay here. Don't go anywhere," she said and you complied with her orders. You patiently waited for her to come back to you and take you far away but... 

The next thing you knew, you were being knocked to the ground and handcuffed. The people at the diner were cursing at you. Bada looked at you with apologetic eyes. She knew you were a lonely girl and you didn't mean any harm... at least not to her. 

You smiled at her and gave her a reassuring nod. 

-

As the days passed, you focused on seeing her again. You only got a restriction order after all since you did tell them it was self-defense and they believed you. Bada didn't speak or testify and what helped you was the lack of security cameras. 

You had never been charged with anything before either so you pretty much had a believable case. Still, you kept your profile on low to prevent alerting anyone but you needed to see Bada. 

The only thing that kept you alive was the memory of her beautiful eyes and smile while she talked to you. 

So you decided to go see her. when you arrived, you noticed there were security cameras all around. You sighed and slipped your hood on getting ready but stopped as you spotted Bada in a car. 

She was sitting next to someone. A man... 

Your guts twisted as you saw her smiling and giggling away and then it broke you. They kissed on the lips. Your blood left your body and you felt a cool shiver down your spine. 

"No... that can't be. She loves me. She can only love me," you bit the inside of your cheek letting the metal-tasting liquid fill your mouth. You didn't bother going to her. 

You went back home and tried to brush it off. You tried to make up lame excuses for her but they all led to the same conclusion- Bada didn't love you anymore.

So you knew what you needed to do. 

A normal person would simply cry and get over it but Bada was the love of your life. You had to protect her from anyone who tried to take her precious love away from you. You didn't sleep the entire night thinking about it...

-

The following night, you went to the diner again. You waited and saw the car pull up again. Bada was in there with the same man and you got angry. 

You waited till Bada went inside to approach the car. 

"Woah... who are you?" the man asked with a confused expression.

"Your worst nightmare," you replied before killing him. It was a quick death and you didn't care if anyone was watching. You took him to the woods behind the diner and dropped his body somewhere dark. 

You cleaned your hands and went inside the diner to find Bada. She looked at you with concern and dragged you to the kitchen where there was no one. 

"What are you doing here? You're going to get caught," she said. 

"Do you love him?" you asked. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. 

"Y/N, you shouldn't be here. Please go home," she said. 

"Bada... Do you love him?" you asked again firmly. She passed around the room. 

"No. I don't but he is my fiance and there is nothing I can do about it," she replied. 

"Do you love me?" you asked. Tears filled her eyes. 

"I can't be in love with a girl. It's not right. You should leave before he comes back," 

"Kiss me. If you love me kiss me and I promise I will make everything right," you stepped closer to her and could see her Adam's apple move up and down. 

And she did. She kissed you like there was no tomorrow and it was all well again. Every single one of your worries died down and you knew at that moment that Bada loved you. 

You could feel a tear roll down your cheek and when you opened your eyes she was crying as well. You wiped her tears and smiled. 

"I love you so much, Bada. You have no idea how much I love you," you said. 

"Let's run away, hm? Let's go far away where we can live together and no one will come between us," you said she nodded. 

She told you to go home and get ready. She would pick you up and you would go somewhere else and you agreed. You would agree to anything she told you to do and you went straight home to get your things ready. 

But Bada knew. She knew when you walked in by that small stain of blood on your cardigan that you had done something to her fiance. 

She knew by the way your eyes looked at her that you had committed a crime because of her and it broke her heart. She did love you. She loved you more than anything but she knew you were a dangerous person. She knew that all of your thoughts would soon turn against her and you would end up more hurt than you already were. 

So she picked up the phone and called the police. She gave them your location in detail and when she hung up the phone, she slid down the wall crying loudly. The pain consumed every bit of happiness left in her body and only the memories of you replayed in her mind. 

She felt the air leave her lungs and the tears wouldn't stop flowing. 

You on the other hand were sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for Bada when you saw flashing blue and red lights. 

You knew what was going on and you didn't care. Bada loved you and you knew that. You saved her from her fiance and that's all that matters. 

So you lived your days in solitary confinement. You called her number every day and sometimes she would pick up but never speak. She would never speak and would just let you talk, listening to your voice. You wrote letters to Bada and sent them to the diner. 

The diner...where your twisted love story began...

Thank you for reading 🩵

[kairiscorner]

hihiii pookie :DD!!

tw// mentions of depression

i'm wondering if you could maybe write a comfort fic about miles 42 with a reader who hates asking for help even when theyre clearly suffering in silence because they were taught to just 'suck it up' and deal with it alone as a kid?

you dont have to write this if you dont feel comfortable with it <33

Thank you pooks :33!!

hi pooks @jrrantss <:DD oh man, okay so i was kind of that kid back then too (though i was a big crybaby) it's like the adults around me didn't fully comprehend why i was feeling the way i was, so in response to that, they basically condemned crying at home or in front of them. i'm sorry if you went through something similar or, hopefully not, something worse ;-; i hope this provides you some comfort, and in a way, might also let you know you aren't the only one going through stuff like this. i'm here for you pookie, all the time <:)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you can be honest with me. – miles 42 x reader (angst + comfort)

nothing went your way this week, hell, you couldn't even remember a week in your life when anything felt right, when you didn't feel that you were holding yourself back from letting go of everything that felt wrong, awful, and just... painful. you were too good at keeping secrets, too good at lying about how you really felt; and that was something you hated about yourself, how you found lying as your first nature, not your second. you lied to people when they'd ask you if you were doing okay, if your day was going alright–you always gave them the answers they want to hear, that you were fine, that nothing was wrong.

but when everything just comes crumbling down, and the cracks in your facade begin to show and become more obvious... you get more and more defensive, more and more angry, more and more... scared and worried about these feelings that are hurling themselves at you so quickly that you can't even begin to understand why they're affecting you so badly–why people can see the bare you now if you just turn your face to look at them or open your mouth to speak; and your boyfriend was the first person to see you this way, vulnerable, yet trying all you can to avoid that vulnerability while you're crumbling down.

"hey," miles calls out to you in a soft voice as he sees your back turned to him as you kept working on your assignments, hunched over at your desk with your brows furrowed together and your lips curved into a scowl. you had been avoiding him for a few days now–at least he thinks you might be avoiding him–and have acted very distant, very... out of it recently. you didn't turn your head around to face him, which prompted him to continue talking, hopefully so you could find a reason to face him and his worried eyes. "you've, um... you've been busy lately." "uh-huh." you hummed as you tapped the end of your pencil against your desk impatiently, racking your brain for the answer to the questions written down that all seemed to blur together as the shittiness of the previous days just irritated you even more, and the worst part was... you couldn't hide the fact you can't mask ot anymore.

miles' face contorted as he got more and more worried about you, not knowing why you were acting starkly different than the usual you, or the only you he was familiar with. he extended his hand out to you as he walked over, looking at your cluttered up papers on your desk and the smudged up marks on the paper from your erasures. "...is something wr–" "everything's fine, i'm fine, i'm just peachy!" "you don't sound very convincing." he said, his voice returning to his nonchalant, cool tone as he took a small glimpse at your face before you turned away from his field of vision.

he sat in the chair next to you and wrapped his arm around you in an effort to comfort you. "cielo, sonething's up with you. are you... are you sure you don't wanna let me help?" he asked you with a soft voice, hoping he didn't overstep any boundaries as you slowly turned your head to show him a bit of your face. there were tears in your eyes, though you didn't dare let miles see them fall down your face; there was a sob stuck in your throat, but you didn't dare let miles hear it escape your lips. you had been there before, being severely troubled for more things than just homework–but never had you been advised to do anything than the age old phrases you've heard all your life as a kid: 'get over it.'

you took in a deep breath and tried to tell him what those words you've exhausted yourself from saying all the damn time–that you don't need any help, that you've got this, that you're okay... but your body's betraying you right now. it's betraying you for turning your back on your own feelings, but that... was never your fault, never. as you let out the breath you've been holding in, the hot tears came streaking down the ends of your eyes, your scowl morphing into a sad frown as you felt yourself slowly come undone and all the raging thoughts in your mind boiled down into one thought right then and there: 'fuck no, i am far from okay'.

you had one tear come down, then two, then... a whole waterfall of tears came pouring down your eyes as you finally released that sob you had been desperately keeping in. you had released it out into the air as it mingled with miles' shushing and gentle whispers as he held you while you leaned against him, wailing as you tried telling him how nothing had been right lately. you choked out in broken cries how you desperately wanted a way out of everything horrible that's been happening but you didn't want anyone else to be bothered by your 'stupid, insignificant problems'.

"i just... want to be okay... but i can't even pretend to be okay for at least one damn day." "please, stop pretending, mi vida. it's hurting me how you... how you think it's strength to rake up everything by yourself... when you clearly need help." miles said with a cracked voice as he felt himself choke up at your melancholic state. you cried even more out of guilt that you saddened miles, but he kissed your forehead, cheek–your whole face as he murmured words of reassurance, of love, to you to calm you down and comfort you. "you're not alone, not anymore... i don't care if some idiots in your life want you to deal with alone, never to bother them–you're never a bother to me, got that?" he mutters to you as he holds you close, letting you sob into his shoulder, your sobs getting louder and louder all the while. he shushes you and rubs your back gently, kissing your wet cheeks as he keeps reminding you that no matter what you're going through, what problems you're having, he's always going to be there for you–be the help you'll need, one way or another.

"please, don't be scared, mi vida... you can be honest with me. i promised to love you with all my heart, protect you, and... always be the help you'll need."

he whispered to you as he looked into your eyes and gently wiped your tears away and leaned his forehead against yours, hoping you would be more lenient, more understanding towards yourself and your own needs; and that you wouldn't hesitate to ask him for help. because even if you don't ask him to, he'll be there to help you, be there to guide you, be there to comfort you the best he can. because he loves you, and knows you deserve more than what you think you deserve, that you deserve... the best of the best, and nothing less.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless @q2ie @zalayni @anikaluv @conitagray