#and i was thinking of a scenario where he sits down and allows another person to tattoo something small on his body

[outdraws]

cassidy inspo. photos i look upon fondly for reference

[neuvilyney]

— 𝑤𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟

★ soft!lover!wanderer x shy!reader requested by @dobadoo

★ I don't actually remember the specific request that was sent in, but the reader was supposed to be more innocent and naive with scaramouche being more cold and distant, so hopefully I got that right lmaoo enjoy!

★ disclaimer: you and wanderer are in an established relationship and there's definitely a lot of physical touch, Wanderer's also more of a soft yandere here.

A gift from the heavens, an angel amidst lowlives, perhaps even a miracle, was his precious flower. He couldn’t help but admire the way rays of morning sunlight danced over the slopes and curves of your body as you slept. If only his creator had installed a lens inside his eyes that’d allow him to photograph this moment, bury it somewhere deep inside him beside the remnants of his past selves. And to think other people would’ve been able to see you like this had he not sunk his claws into your heart first and foremost…no, no that wouldn’t do. 

Luckily, you stirred before your lover could conjure yet another fictional scenario to get angry over. “Go back to sleep, flower.” Wanderer murmured, the tips of his ball-jointed fingers gliding over the line of your brows to brush away any sleep-tousled hairs from your bleary eyes. You looked so lovely like this, just barely rousing from sleep to the sight of him sitting up in bed with those piercing eyes staring down at you- calculating, almost cold had it not been for the way your warmth melted the ice around his heart.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, rolling onto your side and then slumping forward with a groan. His hand naturally found its way to your back, briefly tracing the line of your spine up to your nape- bare skin compared to where his electro sigil remained etched into his skin as a permanent reminder of what was meant to be his legacy. “Hey, you’re-...you’re staring, stop that…” He could only smirk, feeling the warmth of your skin nearly double as blood rushed to your face in embarrassment under his wordless stare. 

“It’s early. And it’s not like you’re stopping me, quit your whining.” Cold fingers trace around your neck when he tilted his head to find your eyes with his own, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. A sweet gesture, though like everything he did, calculated. Each pass of his hands on your skin, each smile you gifted him, he absorbed your light like darkness. Your stars to be lost in his skies. You’d never have to worry, of course, not when he took such good care of you. From the first day you stumbled into him, in disarray and a flurry of apologies over tripping into him or something- he couldn’t quite remember what you said, not when he was so entranced by how alive you were. His personal sunshine for skin damned to run cold. 

Similarly, it was his detached demeanor that drew you closer to the puppet. Like smoldering embers, a flame dormant- just waiting for a spark to render it alive again. “You look like a mess.” He snorted, tugging at the wrinkled fabric of your sleepwear. In retort, a huff left your lips as you grabbed his shirt and tugged him backwards- an uncharacteristically bold move from his sweetheart of a lover. 

“And you look pristine. Something you wanna tell me, mister?” Came your playful chiding, knowing that he rarely slept. Sleep to you was necessary- to him, it was an excuse to lay with you. 

“Careful,” Wanderer scoffed, his whole hand laid over your giggling face and pushing you back onto the bed. “You’ve gotten a bit too cheeky as of late.” He griped, scowling with his arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t tell me I’m already influencing you?”

When you only bashfully smiled and shrugged where you lay, the blankets enshrouded about your bodies like clouds, the frown lines about his lips softened. With an exaggerated sigh, the former harbinger lay beside you and dragged you by the head to lay on his shoulder. “Fine. We’ll rest an hour more, but that’s it.” He begrudgingly speaks, as if it wasn’t his idea.

And as you slowly fall back asleep, overheating the bedsheets with your warmth while his cold body cools you back down, he stares up at the ceiling with a lazy smirk. All this song and dance to keep you under his control when it was plainly obvious that it was you who had the lone wanderer wrapped around your pretty little finger. 

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Word Count: 626

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅𓇼⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- Ky♡♡

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Nikolai (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: There was a poll past this picture. Don't scroll if you don't want spoilers. And also since I have y'all here, thank you for all of the support on this little series of mine! Warnings: MDNI, Sexual Themes, Angst

So, no, things were not fine.

Especially when the only person who gets an ounce of your kindness these days is Nikolai.

When the only person that is allowed in your office to “do work, because the rest of the place is too gloomy” is Nikolai. 

When the only person who is allowed to ask you about your well-being and actually get an answer is Nikolai. 

When all the 141 can do is watch.

Was this their punishment? To see you get closer with someone else right under their noses.

No, this was not their punishment.

Although you are constantly in their mind, Johnny, Kyle, John, and Ghost were hardly in yours these days. Maybe a few months ago, they were. Maybe when you saw a good piece of art, or smelled something really good, or touched something really soft, or heard a beautiful piece of music, you used to think of the boys. Maybe when you laid in bed at night and needed a quick release, you used to picture their bodies on top of yours to get you to that high point - maybe it was just one of them or all four at one time.

But, these days, they just exist how you exist in their minds: co-workers with no obligations to one another. Just a group of people who only need the other to get their job done and that's all. If that's what they wanted, that's what they get. If that's how they'll treat you, you'll treat them the same.

So you being friendly with Nikolai was just you matching his energy. He's friendly, so you are too. There was no ulterior motive here, because doing anything out of spite means you care and honestly you didn't care (that much) anymore.

All you cared now was your work and earning your ticket out of here.

But, to your dismay, it seemed like Nikolai had his own ulterior motives.

The last time Nik was here, which was around your second month with the 141, he noticed the way all of the guys looked at you. He knew that they liked you, probably before they did even. So now that he's back, he wanted to play matchmaker.

And honestly, this was the perfect scenario for the team. All 4 of them dating the same person. They were a unit, a package deal, a team. None of them were able to hold down a partner on their own... he's seen it with his own two eyes. But together, they would be unstoppable. And it seemed like you had more than enough love to give so honestly this was a win-win for everyone. But, things weren't exactly where he wished they were.

That's why when the current mission was over, Nik decides to take matters in his own hands.

After wrapping up on the final reports for the latest mission, Price calls for a celebratory bar trip. Nik is right behind the rest of the guys when he notices you falling behind.

"Aren't you coming?" he calls out. The 141 freezes while you look up like a deer caught in the headlights.

"No, I actually have--"

"Nonsense! We can't celebrate without you. Right Captain?" Nik looks at Price for support who only looks at the ground. Nik didn't take John to be the shy type. And not just John as everyone else looked at either the floor or the walls. Wow, this might be more work than he expected.

After begging for 20 minutes, Nik eventually wears you down. He would not take no for an answer.

But now as you sit with the 141 and Nikolai, you really wished you had told the Russian to fuck off. This was just painfully awkward. The only person that's talking is Nik and he just got up to get the next round of drinks. You would try to make small talk but they wouldn't even bother looking at you.

Thankfully, Nik comes back quick with 6 beers. After handing each guy a beer and taking one for himself, he slams the 6th one in front of you.

"We're here to celebrate, so drink with us!" he cheers as he tries to pull your soda from your hands.

You pull back and admit that you don't drink. The rest of the guys still at that.

Nik lets out a hearty laugh. "What do you mean you don't drink? The last time I was here I saw you down 5 tequila shots like they were water."

"Well, I stopped after... a bad night. I don't want to make the same mistake twice," you say before taking a sip out of your soda. Nik backs off and happily takes the beer for himself. The rest of the team just sit in silence. John and Ghost immediately down their drinks in an attempt to push down their guilt. Johnny starts to bounce his leg as he fights the urge to say something. And Kyle watches the condensation runs down his beer as his mind races.

A moment passes before Nik starts the conversation up again. He calls out your name and asks if you were interested in anyone on base. Everyone chokes on their drinks.

After catching your breath, you asks Nik why he would ask such a question.

"Oh c'mon, you're telling me that no one has caught your eye. Not even these big guys?" he quips while signaling at the 141. Their eyes widen at Nik's question. Wanting to know if you were interested in any of them, they finally look at you.

They wished they didn't, because your face twisted in utter disgust.

"Nikolai, I am here for one thing and one thing only and that's to do my job. I have no time nor desire to pursue anyone on this base and less this team," you got up from your seat and dropped some bills on the table.

"Wait, I didn't mean to offend or anything," Nik cries. He reaches for you. This is not where he thought this conversation would go.

"Of course, no one ever does. Everyone just talks and talks and assumes that I won't take it to heart. Well guess what, I'm done," you finish up your soda. "So I need you, and everyone else here, to get it together, because starting Monday, we are starting that joint mission and I refuse to look like a fool because you guys can't be professional" And with that, you leave the bar.

Nikolai is gasping for air. What the fuck happened? He looks at the rest of the team and is met with guilty faces.

What did they do?

Word Count: 1107

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[the-odd-shu]

Fluffy scenarios for clear skin

Another Lab Illustrator Reader installation!

Masterlist

Previous:

Characters: Jayce, Viktor, Gender Neutral Reader (Reader uses they/them pronouns)

Established: Jayce/Viktor/Reader (POLYCULLLEEE)

Reader to Jayce: Do you ever look at Viktor when he's thinking and want to kiss every inch of his face?

Jayce taking a slow sip from his hot drink: No. I think he would bite me if I tried.

Reader: Maybe. But whenever he pouts, his eyes go all thoughtful and distant, and I can hardly control myself.

Jayce: Please continue to control yourself. I don't want to have to write an accident report because you lost a nose.

Reader sighs again: Would you bite my nose off if I kissed every inch of your face instead?

Jayce no-rizz Talis then proceeds to choke and nearly perish on his drink.

In summary, Reader's partners sometimes give them cuteness aggression.

Just the image of Viktor doing that adorable pouting face, and Reader calmly setting down their pen, getting up, crossing over to Jayce's desk to get rid of their cuteness aggression via kisses on poor Jayce instead.

I kind of like the idea of them doing this instead of crowding Viktor when he's clearly trying to think. Whereas Jayce is just constantly on the look out for touch and validation, so it works out great for him. He melts under the attention, more than happy to put his notes aside for a moment in favour of a rather lovely excuse for a break.

They're quiet about it, but sometimes the movement will pull Viktor out of his musings regardless, and he'll just frown at the pair of them acting like idiots.

And if he insinuates he's feeling a little left out, you bet Reader is going to calmly drag him close and touch temples with him - a deeply personal Zaunite display of affection - which would have a whole new adorable expression appearing on Viktor's face and would send Reader IMMEDIATELY into going back to attack Jayce instead of smothering to poor, overwhelmed man.

In a similar vein of thinking, it would definitely be manadatory for Reader to give into it, just once.

Maybe Jayce is conveniently out of the room, and maybe Viktor is just RIGHT THERE, PLAINLY in sight. And maybe, just this once they SIMPLY CANNOT contain themselves. Viktor is right there and they're not getting any work done because they can't tear their eyes off him.

So they give in, and pepper Viktor's adorable pout with kisses. And the man is just BAFFLED! It takes him a moment to understand what is happening, and then he's letting out flustered strings of words in both his mother's tongue and Piltovern Common, and he's shoving them away by their cheeks.

Reader of course isn't deterred, and just ends up grabbing the hand to kiss his knuckles. Viktor glares down at them with a look of resignation and burning red ears.

Jayce comes in like: what did I miss.

Reader: Turns out he doesn't bite.

Viktor: Not yet. Don't tempt me.

Jayce is rewarded with a forehead touch for simply existing that time round - the significance is not lost on him and he feels touched.

Viktor's that choatic boyfriend that hears you complaining about a colleague one too many times, and then proceeds to inconvenience them in the most subtle and irritating way known to man, all whilst giving you a shit-eating little smirk as he sits back and watches the world burn.

"That fucker giving you trouble Darling? No worries, I stole all of his left socks and buried them in the staff room plant pot after hours."

"They said what about Jayce?" A beat of silence.

"Viktor?! Where are you going with that washing up liquid."

"Nowhere." Very obviously makes his way to the kitchen.

Said co-worker that was talking shit then begins complaining that every cup of coffee they make tastes like soap!

Someone talks shit about their partners:

Jayce 'can we talk about this' Talis: "here is a thirty page essay as to why you're wrong, and I have a PowerPoint slide prepared with additional evidence if you will please take a seat and allow me to reeducate you."

Viktor who will resort to psychological warfare to get his point across correcting them, whilst also blatantly gaslighting them into believing that Jayce and Reader can do no wrong, and they were in fact crazy for insinuating such cruel things about either of them to begin with.

Reader who stabs first with their artist-grade scalpel, and asks questions when they're incapacitated and bleeding out on their floor: "Say that again, to my face this time. Go on, I dare you."

(There is a reason why Jayce and Viktor ((the pacifists)) do not teach Reader how to use any of the hextech devices. They will commit murder and refuse to regret it whilst Jayce sweats bullets and Viktor stares on, mouth aghast by the sheer brutality of said murder).

"He deserved it," Reader will explain simply.

And Viktor will go, "perhaps, BUT YOU COULD HAVE LEFT HIS HEAD ATTACHED!"

Jayce who's trauma raises its head when his partners are cold. Blankets. Warm drinks. Heating on full blast. That snow storm did a number on him and he HATES the winter because of it.

Are you shivering? Is Viktor? No stress, he shall simply have to BECOME the blanket to keep you both alive and well. It is as sweet as it is heartbreaking.

Viktor who's upbringing in Zaun sometimes makes him precious with food. Not because he was starving, but because sometimes he couldn't have as much food as he wanted, simply because money was tight growing up.

Maybe he has a sweet treat, and ends up breaking it into threes to share with you and Jayce.

Maybe there's only one tea bag left, so he settles for water, despite having REALLY wanted that cup of warm tea.

Maybe he's waiting for seconds for dinner, but there's only enough left for two more portions, so he says he's not hungry anymore.

Viktor who will sometimes feel the gnaw of hunger but make a hot drink to soothe his stomach instead of actually eating something, because its only so far into the day, and if he doesn't eat now, then he won't be as hungry later-

Safe to say, his partners notice. And Jayce keeps the kitchenette well stocked with drinks and snacks alike, whilst Reader will stop by a bakery or cafe in the morning to bring him a proper breakfast, as well as breakfast for themselves and Jayce so he doesn't feel like he HAS to share.

[emmcfrxst]

Thinking about Logan walking in on his partner singing and he just melts <3

i’ve been thinking about this so much too. there’s so many scenarios in my head when i think of this specific concept so i’m sorry in advance for the ramblings <333333

there’s the idea of living in a nice little shack in the mountains with lumberjack!logan, and he comes home from a long day to the faint sound of the radio playing in the kitchen, and he keeps his steps quiet as he toes off his shoes and walks over to the source of the noise, a laugh catching in his throat as he leans against the threshold, watching you in all of your glory; you’re not wearing any pants, your plain cotton underwear peeking out from underneath the half-buttoned flannel (one he knows for a fact is his— he also knows you’ve been hiding it away in your drawers because it’s your favorite) and you’re doing some dishes, singing along to some pop song he doesn’t know the lyrics to, hips swaying from side to side as you get into the climax of the song. it’s only when you twirl around that you notice his presence, a delighted expression immediately replacing the focused look on your face. he grins back at you, looking at the hand you’re extending towards him for a moment before taking it, allowing you to twirl him around before pressing your bodies together, hands finding one another as he places his free one on your hip, swaying the two of you around your small kitchen, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss that has his heart pounding in his chest. he’s finally home.

there’s also the idea of old man!logan who survives the whole ordeal with the reavers and adopts laura, finally allowing his feelings for you, who used to be charles’ caretaker (shout out to @joelsgoldrush for the original idea— although in my universe the X-24 thing did happen and reader is in their 30s), to be expressed to their full extent. you rent/buy a two bedroom house where you plan on raising laura together, and after months of adaptation and learning to live together as a family, logan wakes up one morning to muffled giggles coming from the living room, a small smile making the already wrinkly skin around his eyes crinkle in fondness, a soft grunt leaving him as he drags his stiff body out of bed to see what you two are up to. the sight in the living room makes his heart melt; you and laura and both still in your pajamas, the television playing what logan recognizes to be one of your favorite musicals, your hands intertwined with laura’s as you make her dance around the room with you, singing along to the songs. the little girl is smiling widely, giggling uncontrollably when you dip her dramatically, your lips meeting her temple in an affectionate gesture that has her nuzzling into you. laura notices logan before you do, her smile almost blinding as she drops one of your hands to reach for him, asking her daddy to dance with her. this is what living feels like, he thinks warmly. he just wishes charles could be there to see him now; blissed out and finally allowing himself to live, not just survive.

finally, there’s the idea of original trilogy!logan waking up from another nightmare, cold sweat running down his bare back as he breathes heavily, guilt twisting in his stomach as he feels you shuffling around next to him, awakened by his movements. the bitter taste of an apology sits in his tongue until he feels your hand running up his spine, tangling in the hair at the back of his head before you start caressing it tenderly. the action grounds him slightly, the feeling of your gentle touch reminding him that he’s safe, away from the horrors that cloud his dreams. the tightness in his chest starts to loosen when he registers your voice humming a soft melody that replaces the sound of his heart beating in his ears. it’s there, between the mussed up sheets of a bed that’s seen better days that he finds himself able to breathe again, lulled to sleep by the sweet melody sung to him by the person who is a safe haven to him.

[altxrrmelancholy]

Cherry Lemons pt.2

Tags: attempt at angst, yet another argument (a minor one though), Yunho, Min, Woo and Yeo for moral support, sfw, matz moment.

Wc: I wasn't even counting...

Note: ik I have several works pending, but this was long overdue. I deserve punishment for making some of you wait. I'm sorry 🙁. Anyway, enjoy!

Make sure to read part one first!

It was crispy outside, so cold. The leaves outside the house had covered almost all the grass that there was barely any green left. There were dark clouds constantly throughout the day. Times like these are when students dread going to class. They would sit through lectures and wish they were somewhere else instead. The lecturers had probably noticed since the classes for the particular semester were also very little. This meant that students could barely be seen on campus if it isn't class time. There were definitely pros and cons to the weather.

The outside was not the only place that was noticeably cold.

Ever since the stunt outside the house, everybody seemed to be walking on eggshells around Hongjoong and Seonghwa. In a normal setting, these two got along. As the two oldest in the house, they were closer to each other than any other person in there. Now Seonghwa spent nearly all day in his room if he was in the house as Hongjoong seemed to avoid any place graced by his- erm...best friend? Whenever they were in the same room, the atmosphere was painfully awkward. None of the other boys knew if the two knew that they were ruining everyone's mood. Were they gonna talk to them though? Not a chance.

.

.

Now Seonghwa knew it was pretty shameless of him to keep calling all the time because they usually went to voicemail anyway.

He screwed up. Big time. At least he knew that.

He also didn't have the courage to go over to your dorm room and apologize. He didn't know where to start. One would think that the two weeks that passed ever since that night would give him enough time to formulate an apology, what he would say to you when he saw you, if he did.

What did he even plan to say, if by sheer luck, you did pick up one of his calls? I'm sorry, forgive me, I miss us please give us a chance? By nature, you were a nice person, especially to the people you cared about. He could at the moment imagine, as he lay on his pillow with his eyes closed, that he was laying on your chest like he used to do.

He would look up at his beautiful delusion, and you would look down at him and smile, admiring his eyes.

I'm sorry, he would say. I really care about you and would never intentionally hurt you. You know that, right?

And you would smile. I know. You don't need to apologize. And he would wrap both his hands around you and squeeze you so tight that he could feel both your hearts beat in sync.

That would be after he, of course, fucked you into the mattress as you laughed with each other about how crazy it was that you were actually sleeping with each other. He never really knew at what point he started developing actual feelings for you. At first, the two of you were friends with benefits. Maybe he always had feelings for you? He didn't want to dwell in that.

Seonghwa has spent many days imagining scenarios like that. He frowns as he realizes that he is not actually laying on your chest. And that his pillow was cold, and your scent gone.

This is the nth day in a row, Hwa. He dragged his tired eyes to you as you stood over him beside his bed, his T-shirt on your frame. He never allowed you to wear his clothes. He almost felt like crying. Why didn't he allow you to wear his clothes?

"I'm sorry." He said still staring at you.

I know. Now go and eat, please-

"I'm sorry for calling you a bitch. I know I hurt your feelings." You looked at him in confusion. "I'm so, so sorry Y/n. I didn't mean any-"

A knock on the door. Whoever that was stepped in. Mingi.

"Hey, Seonghwa?" He whispered hesitantly as he saw the man on his bed. "Yunho, Woo and I were gonna go get dinner. Come with us?"

It was dinner time?

It's not like he intentionally refused to eat. He just couldn't eat a full meal. His diet lately consisted of snacks that he would sneak out from the kitchen when he was sure Hongjoong wasn't in the house, or in his room. And then he would hurry back to his and close the door softly, like he never left. He should eat though. He loved food.

He nodded weakly at Mingi as he got up. "I'll be down in a second." Mingi shrugged and shut the door a little too hard, prompting a wince from Seonghwa. He looked to his left to hopefully continue apologizing to you, but you were already long gone.

.

.

Since you shared a major with Yeosang, one of Seonghwa's housemates, he was helping you with a few classes that you seemed to struggle with. It's not like they were difficult or anything, you just couldn't bring yourself to study efficiently lately.

"You think you can do the entire paper on your own now?" He said as he gave you your study books over the condiments on the table.

"Sure. I mean, we have been studying, right?" You said as you packed your books and tied your hair so you could eat. Yeosang was surprisingly good company. Considering he started talking to you after the night you were driven home with your tail between your legs. You thought he only started talking to you because he felt pity for you, but nothing about him has ever popped up. Whether he was pretending or not, you didn't know.

As you both were eating, of course, nothing was going right for you this semester. You dropped your fork on the floor as you were absentmindedly staring at your food, causing a bit of spillage. "Shit."

"Oh. No worries. I'll get another for you." He says, standing.

"Thanks, Yeosang." And just as you were about to pick yours from the floor, someone else beat you to it.

"Here you g- Y/n?" You looked at the source of the voice and could see Yunho crouching down beside you. Lo and behold, behind him was Seonghwa. He was staring at you with his eyes wide, his hands around his arms. Why wasn't he wearing a jacket? It's so cold.

But of course that wasn't the most prevalent thing in your mind. But did he look different. You couldn't tell what exactly was different about him. His aura was not the usual confident one he had. Come to think of it, you don't recall hearing his bike around campus these days. Did his hair grow longer? You had to get out of here.

"Y/n? I got your fork. Oh. hey." Yeosang was aware of Seonghwa's presence and suddenly everybody was waiting for anyone to say something. Mingi and Woo were holding each other's arms behind Seonghwa while staring back and forth at everyone. Yunho stood up finally, ready to hold anyone back in case something happened, in this very public diner.

Seonghwa glanced at Yeosang. What was he doing here with you? He didn't remember the two of you being close at all. He heard the sudden scrape of a chair on the floor and watched you pack your bag.

"Yeosang, I'll call you later, okay?" You didn't even give him a chance to answer as you had already started walking away, zipping up your jacket. Seonghwa couldn't allow this to happen. He watched you walk away that night, and he couldn't allow that to happen again.

"Y/n, wait." He walked after you. Yunho was quick to hold him back. "Just let her go, man."

He pushed Yunho out of his way, hard, and ran outside after you.

"Shit, guys. Let's go." Mingi and Wooyoung who were just looking at the drama unfold ran outside after him, Yeosang on their track.

"Y/n? Y/n please stop, I need-"

"What!" Your eyes were starting to turn red as you faced your- what, now ex-boyfriend?

"What do you want, Seonghwa?!" You were now standing in an alleyway, and it was dark. Reminiscent of that night.

"I-I..." His heart was racing. What, again, was he supposed to say? "I'm sorry."

You blinked. That was it?

You scoffed and turned around to head back to your dorm room, but Seonghwa's sudden grip on your arm prevented that.

"I'm trying to gather the words, Y/n. Please, I know I hurt you but could you please be civil for a moment and listen to me?" He wasn't even arguing, the words came out almost a murmur. His eyes were filled with desperation and he was shivering slightly from the cold. It didn't mean you were having it though.

"Civil? Seonghwa, you spent weeks tearing me apart emotionally and now you want civility?" You were also almost whispering, you words sounding harsh.

"I-I want to make things right, I-"

"Let's not forget your little habit of shutting me out whenever I tried to talk about anything important. Are those the words you're having trouble gathering?"

"Maybe I shut you out because every conversation felt like walking through a minefield!" No, no, no, what happened to making things right?

You walked towards him and stood right in front of him, so close, that you could count his eyelashes. "A minefield that you created." You whispered. His eyes turned soft. "There's no way we can go back to how things were, Seonghwa."

He was almost kneeling. "I'm really sorry, y/n. I didn't mean anything I've ever said that hurt you. Please let me try and make it up to you." He looked at you, waiting for something positive, because again, that's who you were.

"Is it the sex?" His eyebrows furrowed.

"What...?"

"Do you just miss having sex with me?" You said, your voice wavering.

"What? Y/n, no-"

"Why then should we get back together if we're just gonna fight all the time? Or are you afraid that this time, someone is walking away from you instead of the other way around, huh?" Seonghwa didn't know what to say. Wasn't it supposed to be easy? Apologize and then the two of you could move on together? He felt himself panicking. No, it can't happen like this. Without even using the little braincells he had when it came to you, he leaned forward and captured your lips in his. You missed this so much that you just gave in to him immediately. The kiss was slow and passionate, unlike the last one.

"Uuumm, so, did they make up?" Wooyoung whispered from where they stood hiding, peeping at the two of you comically like a bunch of cartoon characters.

"I don't think so? They're crying." Yunho whispered.

"That could also be tears of joy, you know." Woo turned to look at Yunho. But nobody had any right to say anything about this topic so they just went silent and continued watching. You know, in case a fight broke out.

You took Seonghwa's cheek into your hand and he circled your waist in his. He was briefly happy, although he was starting to feel that this was probably not the first of many kisses from then on.

You pulled back and stared at him. You shook your head, tears still shining in your eyes. "I'm sorry, Seonghwa."

"No. No, don't apologize-"

"Just sort yourself out, okay? I can't do this with you anymore. Please, don't look for me."

"Baby, please, I'm so sorry-" He tried grabbing at your waist as you began to walk backwards.

"I know."

And then you left. You just walked away the second time. You were tired and needed rest from this all. Even as you walked away, sobbing with a very heavy heart, not sure if you wanted to do this, you were sure that you didn't want to be tired anymore.

Seonghwa just stood there staring at the void. He had fucked up. His feelings for you didn't save him. What was easy about this was that he had easily hurt you. You probably forgave him, which he didn't know, but you were not going to get back with him. Because he did that. He hurt someone he cared about. Someone he was happy with. And why? He couldn't even tell. Was he not ready for a relationship? Or was it actually just the mind-blowing sex? Either way, it didn't matter. He should have just chased after you that night.

"Seonghwa?" He felt two people beside him grabbing his arms. He looked toward his left to Yunho who had called him, he couldn't even see him well because of his hair and the tears.

"Yes, Yunho?" And his friends felt their hearts break at that. They dragged him out of there to their house, forgoing dinner and quietly agreeing to just eat at home. And there was a void within Seonghwa, multiplying the more he took a step out of that alley.

.

.

Hongjoong entered his best friend's room to find him on the bed, his back turned from the door. He realized how skinny he had gotten from his silhouette in the very dark room. Hongjoong didn't even know that his feelings were this strong, enough to have him bedridden most days. He just thought that he was always in his room because they were busy ignoring each other.

"Hwa?" He whispered.

Seonghwa almost cried. The only other person who called him that aside from you.

Hongjoong hesitantly sat on his bed as Seonghwa shifted to look at him. Thank goodness the lights were off. If he had red eyes, he didn't want his friend to see them.

"Are you good?" He asked, as stern as usual. Seonghwa shifted to lay his head on Hongjoong's lap.

"She just left." He choked out, with the last of his strength of the day.

He dragged his hand through his hair. He felt really bad for his friend. And although he was still mad at him, he couldn't have just left him after what he was told by Yunho earlier. So he made himself comfortable on the bed as he heard his best friend sniff over and over again.

"I'm tired."

"I know, Hwa."

.

.

That night, Hongjoong ended up spending the night in Seonghwa's room.

.

.

Note (again) : feedback would be appreciated. Don't forget to reblog!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Anything is Possible

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: with Jaehaerys gone, you & Aemond make plans more than just battle plans and strategies. [sort of a part ii to my previous scenario X. based on the series, not the books, so don't come at me]

-----------------------------⚔️----------------------------------

“You need to be careful.”

“I am always careful.”

You frown at your husband as he looked at you from over his shoulder. That cheeky grin. That look in his eye. All of it letting you know he was planning something not even remotely close to careful.

“You know what I mean. We’ve already lost enough. It will break us if we lose you too.”

Aemond scoffed and returned to his papers & drawings. “Hardly. I am no heir. I could disappear come morrow, and no one would even wonder where I went off to. So long as I didn’t disappear off Vhagar.”

“It would break me then.” You told him. Coming up to his side to lean against his desk. One facing east and one facing west so you could look at one another.

Aemond scoffed again, only this time out of amusement rather than disgust. “You’re a better person than most.”

“And, technically, you are the heir.”

Your prince’s back straightened a little. His good eye flashing towards your for a second to let you know he had thought of that too. It had been several weeks since Jaehaerys assassination. Though you all still wept and grieved, kingdoms could not wait for those to recover. All of you must think toward the future. “So you need to be more careful.”

“Aegon will have other sons.”

“Hmm…perhaps.” You slide over on the desk, directly in front of Aemond, before properly sitting on it. Your legs hanging loose about either side of his lean frame. “I’m sure he’ll have a slew more sons. More bastards for the crown to feed. Unless Helaena recovers.” The death of her son had taken a toll on the crown’s sweet sister, to put it gently. Her grief was driving her slowly to madness. Coupled with the fact that she never seemed to like it when Aegon bedded her, though who could blame the Queen, the likelihood of Aegon II having another legitimate heir was a distant memory.

“She could recover.” Aemond replied. Voice calm and stern even as you undid his belt.

“I hope she does.” Truly, you did. It hurt to see her like this, and you knew it hurt Aemond. He held very tender feelings for his meek, soft older sister. Their lily amongst the thorns. “But what if she doesn’t.” Aemond takes a sharp inhale as you grasp him begin to stroke. “What of the line then?”

“Aegon has other sons.” His attention so fixed on watching your hand that he seemed to not realize he was repeating himself. “He could legitimize.”

“A bastard, legitimate or not, will never sit on the Iron Throne.” Not in 100 years. Not in 1000 years. It would never be accepted. “Jaehaera can’t inherit.” Otherwise, what was all this for? “So, it falls to you. Last true son of Viserys Targaryen.”

“Aegon could take another wife.” Aemond reasoned. His voice was still calm, but breath quickening. “Like his namesake.”

“Do you think your mother will really allow that?” Alicent was a lot of things, in your opinion, but deep down she was a good mother. She’d never let her fragile girl be cast away to shatter like glass. “And, who knows, Aegon could die.” Aemond breath hitched at the thought and he stumbled a little before he caught the table. “He’s reckless. Impulsive. And Rhaenyra always seems to get her way. But if there was an heir. A legitimate one.” Your free hand pulled up your skirts and the two of you gasp as you lead Aemond’s cock inside you. “With a legitimate heir in his wife’s belly, no one would question succession.”

The prince stood up to his full height. Looking down on you as his hips rocked slowly between your legs. “That’s what you want then, hm? My princess wants to be the Queen?”

“I want to be by your side.” It was all you ever wanted. From the day you met Aemond and felt not fear like the others, but lust at this tall, handsome, dutiful prince, who was willing to sacrifice an eye to get what he wanted. You had to have a man like that. You would accept no others. And you would sacrifice everything to have his dreams come true in return. “I don’t want to be the Queen. I want to be your Queen.” Aemond hissed loudly when you gripped the back of his long hair and pulled his head back hard. “And I can’t do that if your fucking dead!”

You can see the tether in Aemond snap just before he descended on you. Hips no longer slow and deliberate but rutting against you. Using his height now to box you in on the desk and in his arms. Grunting like an animal. Gods it was thrilling.

It was over very quickly though, as this wasn’t a moment for gentle embraces and soft words like your many nights. It was still the middle of the day, in a semi-private forum, with your skirts up around your hips and husband inside you while ink dribble off the back in your ruckus while Aemond’s cum dribbled out of you at the front. “Do you think it will really happen?”

You try to turn and look at your love, but he caught your face in his hand and kissed the side of your neck first, only able to face him once he was done. “Who knows? Anything is possible. It’s also entirely possible we’ll all be dead come winter.” Aemond chuckled. He always appreciated your practicality for things. You lifted his head up to meet you in the eye. “Which is why you must be careful.”

He looked at you for a long moment. Seeming to think on it before he told you, “I will try.” Which was honestly the best he could offer you.

The prince stepped back and slipped himself free from your cunt. Your legs pressing together to keep what was left of him inside while he helped pull down your skirts. “And if you leave me a pregnant widow, I will never forgive you.” Aemond laughed at that. Legitimately laughed at that.

He leaned in to brush a kiss past your lips and helped you down. “Well, can’t have that now can we.”

Aemond told you he had work to do and asked you to leave as you were too much of a distraction. He also asked, as if it were a passing thought, if you would check on Helaena. You were one of the few people who she would allow to see her these days. And although you may have just plotted her overthrow, you and Aemond still loved her very dearly. He probably asked because he felt guilty about that now. Or he just doesn’t want her to be alone with their mother all the time. You tell him of course and make your leave. Promising to see him tonight.

As you walk down the halls towards the other wings, the throb in your apex and mind still on your prince, you wonder if your musing could be a reality. The likelihood that Aemond could be king was not so far fetched as him dying, although the latter just seemed more likely.

Your hand drifted to your stomach for a moment, thinking on other futures time might have in store for you. Anything was possible after all.

part x xxx xxxx

[myun-saidthoughts]

12th House Venus: I Choose Longing

(Disorganized attachment style edition)

"I'll still choose my imagination instead of choosing a tangible you."

My soul is drawn to someone who won't choose me; my body finds comfort in the desire of someone who longs for me but ultimately chooses another.

As I sit on my bed, lost in yet another mesmerizing song, I start to feel this type of longing that my own soul forgets it calls for. I stare into the abyss of what I think is my room and this sinking feeling seeps in; suddenly I start to feel as if I have said goodbye to someone who was never even mine.

I start to imagine false memories in my mind, and i'm suddenly remembering this false goodbye. My soul can't tell the difference, is it reality or just my imagination? I cling onto these false memories as if the person I long for has just chosen another, It's like i'm reading a fabricated story and my eyes can only look in between the lines, not at the words but instead I stare at the unsaid.

Instead, I lie on my bed, imagining a scenario where I walk into a room and I see the side of his face lost in conversation with someone else, my heart clenches, I take a deep breath in and to my expected surmise, I see him with her. And as I look over he turns to look at me, and as our eyes interlock I imagine him clenching his fists, holding his breath while whispering to himself, "I wish you were her."

Instead, I stare at the wall, imagining a scenario where I'm walking into a bar and I see him with her. We make eye contact; he takes a breath and looks down. I can't look away, my heart is suddenly wishing for his hello but seconds pass, our eye contact breaks, and as he walks away, I imagine him holding her hand, while thinking to himself, "It should have been her."

Am I choosing this? Am I wishing to long for someone instead of ever being with them? Why do I envision scenarios where the person I say I want has said goodbye to me before, but only after I fell for him, and after he fell for me too?

"My body finds comfort in only the idea of you, and because I fear accepting the love my own soul reluctantly calls for, I will choose these imagined scenarios over ever being truly yours; i'd rather break my own heart over and over again than allow the love I so desperately wish for in; even it means I'll stare at the ceiling, searching through the what if's and what could be's, I'll still choose my imagination instead of choosing a tangible you."

12th House Venus + Moon aspecting Neptune may relate because oftentimes these individuals will search and run towards those who take, those who won't emotionally satisfy or emotionally give in the way you need. Instead those you choose are those who may have to need you, you're the other woman, the mistress, the girl he hasn't told his friends about, the girl in the shadows or the one he only calls at 2AM. Or you feel a sense of power and a sense of worth when he does decide to choose you over someone he has self proclaimed to be with. Therefore he is with another girl yet he may "dream" and secretly desire you. You're the only one who "gets him" he says, you're the only one he feels attracted to or close with. And on those nights where you wait for his 2AM call, you are receiving a sense of "power" that in this moment he is choosing you, he just may not choose you in the morning, and in that weary state you feel comfortable. And because of that you'll always be searching for his approval or acknowledgement. In essence, you somehow are never the chosen girl, and you find yourself in loops and cycles of choosing those who won't choose you. These individuals are reflecting to you core wounds that you haven't acknowledged or accepted. Especially if you have many 12H house placements such as a 12H Moon/Venus or Pisces Moon. Those patterns you've reluctantly learned from your childhood or from your Mom, has lead you here. Now you stare in the mirror and question your wholeness, you question why the ones you choose never seem to choose you, and your soul is instead asking to give yourself that type of love that you're too scared to develop.

If this scenario resonates with you, then this individual is provoking a wound within yourself that deals with the acceptance of receiving authentic love. This innate need to only give highlights your own fear of receiving real reciprocal, stable, tangible love.

This dilemma is your concrete wall that your brain has created for you to stay "safe." You feel comfortable in shallow connections, you feel more at ease in meaningless connections, and yet a part of your soul is asking for more, a part of your soul knows how much you can give and instead of asking for a sip of the love you crave, you'd rather stay parched.

You'd rather stay away from the chance of truly ever being someone's person, because if you allowed them in, if you allowed them to see you, then they'll have the power to truly break you;

This is how I have felt in the past regarding romantic connections, and for me, these types of feelings only occur when the connection I am forming holds the possibility that I can fall for the person. Especially if the boy I like showcases a slight desire for another or isn't meeting my expectations, I'll get into this longing state where I imagine our connection is completely over, I imagine that he is with someone else and I sit in it; and this feeling somehow feels comfortable for me. It's what keeps me in shallow connections, It's what keeps my walls up, it's what creates the distance between me and love. I am terrified of ever being someone else's, I am terrified of being wanted by someone I can see myself falling for, and yet I want nothing more.

I choose those who won't choose me because this uncertainty is what my body knows. My body feels "safe" in this emotional wishing because it's what I have been used to ever since I was young. Once they somehow show consistency within the connection I feel uneasy and confused, I feel more uncomfortable with them openly stating their desires for me, I feel more unsafe when they look into my eyes to tell me "I want you." I need to want them, and they need to want me too, but only in intervals. I need to see him with another while staring at me, I need to question his feelings and imagine the what ifs. If I can't then a part of me can't want him.

When the connection becomes "real" or more "open" I start to feel reluctant and uneasy, once my self worth isn't being questioned, I ask myself "Do I care?" "Do I actually want him?"

This post is more word vomit, I really don't know if others will relate but this is why I am so drawn to nodal synastry + water house synastry overlays, I don't feel safe with anyone, I don't like being with someone who doesn't bring me ease or the sense of acceptance, and I wanted to share my thoughts.

I have:

A Scorpio Moon that exactly squares my Neptune

A 12th House Venus, Mercury, Chiron and Lilith

My 12th House Venus sextiles my Neptune

A disorganized attachment style with abandonment wounds.

[motherraid]

I can’t find any rules so if your uncomfortable plz feel free to ignore this but I recently found out that when a afab person sits on someone else lap, they can feel the *throb™*

So I’m currently thinking what would Sebek do if during the Masquerade s/o fem!reader ended up sitting on his lap and he felt the throb. What would he do? Would he get hard or would he wonder what it is?

Can I be ✨🎀 anon plz? If you do those kinds of anon thingies lol

Omg of course???!?!?! It's been so long since I've taken an ask from a named anon what you're so nice 😭😭😭

AND YOU HAD TO PULL A SCENARIO FROM MY FAVORITE EVENT TOO ILY

((Grinding, manipulation/gaslighting(??), boners (lol), slight exhibitionism(?? If you squint i think) more big boy words and can't really think or anything else as a description, IM SORRYYY I NEED CHARACTER EXAGGERATION IT'S AN ADDICTION))

Well, well. Back to lap sitting. It seems you all have a certain taste.

Boring answer is he feels it, gets embarrassed, and asks you to get up before he even begins to feel anything. He'd probably offer you his seat and walk off to find another seat he can sit down in. He's red faced, but that's it.

Fun answer?

I believe that Sebek WILL know where it's coming from. I'm sure he has some knowledge in sex ed or smth and if he doesn't, he's still very smart. He can make the connection and what was causing it easily. And when he looks up at you in concealed confusion, he can tell by your nonchalant expression that you aren't doing it on purpose. He assumes it's a natural thing that you shouldn't be ashamed of. So, by that logic, if you feel something hardening under your ass, surely you can understand that it's just natural, right? It's nothing to freak out over, I mean, who wouldn't get hard when there's such a darling sitting in his lap?

And who could possibly have known that something as simple as a pulse could be so alluring?

I mean, if we're talking sweet ol classic Sebek, he'd probably be aaaaabsolutely mortified. His immediate reaction would be to politely tap you on the shoulder and ask you (in the quietest voice he's ever had in his life) to stand so he can use the restroom. He won't even make it to full erection by the time he's flown from the room lol. And as soon as he makes it into semi-privacy, you won't see him for a good while. Well, at least until he can either will his erection to die or pathetically rub one out in a restroom stall like a loser (lmao). Most likely the former. His pride wouldn't allow him to do something so humiliating. If someone heard or caught him whimpering while he spazzes with his dick in his hand mid orgasm he'd truly never show his face in public again.

If you two are in a relationship then maybe he won't be so quick to run away and pitifully consider jacking off to the feeling of you throbbing in his lap- wishing he could feel your throbbing while deliciously stretched around his dick and welcoming every inch deeper into your warm cunt until either he runs out of inches or you run out of space.

No, no. He may just steadily place both hands on each of your thighs and bury his face into the back of your shoulder. Or the crook of your neck depending on how tall you are.

("Please... Just stay here for a moment. I swear that I'll let you up soon.. But for now I need you to stay put... and try not to move too much." )

And uhm.. Mk so you know it's not a Duke post without some sort or freak in there, and I just can not write something without going feral about it and the only way I can go feral about it is if I exaggerate his character so PERVY SEBEK

So if you somehow had managed to sit down in his lap and he feels his zipper area becoming a bit uncomfortable, you'd better have a strong will. The absolute degrading filth this boy will spew into your ears will either have you grinding into his crotch and begging him for more or trying to muffle your hurt/confused sobs. Best believe he ain't going nowhere, and neither are you for your little stunt. Sure, you may not have been intentionally trying to arouse him, but you are the one who insisted on using him as a seat when there are plenty of places to rest. That must have been what you wanted, huh? To see him all red faced and bothered? You probably like seeing him breaking a sweat, lip between his teeth and digging his digits into the underside of the seat. You must loove making him horny. It's like you get a kick out of it. Is it funny for you? To see him in agony?

Well, two can play at that game. Don't even bother acting surprised when he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight to his chest. He might wait for a person or two to pass out of view before his tongue sneaks a quick swipe against your earlobe. His breath is heavy on your neck while he nuzzles his face into your hair. Thank the Seven for the loud(ish) music echoing off the walls, or else anyone a good few feet from you would be able to hear him groaning in your ear. All while one of his hands slowly slides towards the inside of your thigh and gives it a good squeeze.

And don't even think about saying anything. It's all your fault, you know. You just casually decide to sit in a guys lap and act surprised when he gets hard? Just like your enticing second heartbeat, an erection is something that can not be helped sometimes. They can happen anywhere, and every guy can agree to that. So what will it look like when you purposefully sit in his lap, throbbing against his thigh with your ass sat firmly against his crotch? Did you forget you're in a school of boys? They'd understand him in a heartbeat. Some may even say you did it on purpose. You'll only embarrass yourself. So stay still, stay inconspicuous, and stay silent.

Let's be honest, though. He's hanging on by a thread. He's just so embarrassed that you've managed to get him this vulnerable and he's taking that out on you. You feel so warm and smell soo good. It's taking every ounce of restraint to hide his gasps and grunts from the spread crowd around you both. Trust they can't be concealed from you, though. You can hear everything. Not to mention feel everything. It's impossible to ignore him spreading his legs a bit and slowly rolling his hips into you.

If he's miserable and desperate, he'll make you feel even worse. Unless you'd rather sneak away and give him the blow job he deserves for putting up with you. Lend him you pussy for a while and he might even spare you a lecture about public decency once this trip is over. (How hypocritical.)

And he's lying. Of course you'll be getting properly disciplined when this is all over. A hands-on lecture is a must. Best not to worry about that now, though. Just enjoy the moment. He sure is.

("I should have known better than to humor you. To think I actually believed you might have been behaving decently for once.")

[lotsoflola]

never ever ever - l. haechan [introduction]

summary: you've had your heart broken for the fifth time in two months, and however much you just want to spend the night crying, someone keeps interfering... genre: enemies to lovers warnings: swearing, reader sleeps around, harsh language, implied smut but nothing in this chapter wc: 1.1k author's note: this series is going to take a hot minute but here's the introduction for the first fic to keep you guys fed

"hi kun," you slurred, the liquor streaming in your bloodstream evident through the way you collapsed against the bar. your mind was foggy, your fingertips were tingling, and the far-too-revealing dress you was falling clung to your curves more than ever.

the bartender giggled, knowing his favourite regular, and finishing polishing the glass in front of him. "jesus, it's only eight. how are you this fucked already?"

you pushed yourself up, leaning over the counter to grab a bottle of cheap beer, throwing a fiver down on the table. "you know that guy i was seeing? in your frat?"

kun hummed, all too used to your antics. you were known across campus for being a flirt, for drinking too much and having fun with as many men as you saw fit. it was no surprise, you were drop dead gorgeous, with a body sculpted by aphrodite herself, and the personality to match. you were dangerous, and didn't you know it.

"yeah, i broke it up."

kun chuckled lightly. "surprise, surprise. come on, how long was that? a week?"

"two weeks, actually," you sighed, taking a large swig from your beer, "i don't know, he just wasn't exciting like that. got bored of him. so i ended it."

"so why isn't he the one drinking alone on a thursday night with a class at 9am tomorrow?" the bartender teased, earning a middle finger from the girl across from him.

"i'm allowed to be sad, kun," you finished the beer with your words, the bitter aftertaste refreshing on your tongue. you leant over the bar to grab another one, but were met with a hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, stopping you in her tracks.

he tutted under his breath. "i think you've had enough for tonight, honey."

honey. the nickname fell naturally from his lips. the one your parents used to call you when you was a child. the one you only let those close to you say because of the power it held. the one those special people only used in special scenarios due to the impact it had on you.

you knew it was stupid to care so much about a stupid nickname. god, you wished you didn't care so much about it. but the second those words left someones lips you were putty in their hands. that's why you only let those you cared about say it.

"pissed on a week night already? i expected better from you, honey. didn't you only date that guy for a week?"

those you cared about. and him.

lee haechan was the new hot thing on campus, throwing himself at girls as much as he could and becoming the hot topic on their tongue as he wowed them in bed. at least that what he claimed, you had never spoken to any of these girls with enough time to discuss his ability in bed, not that you would ever bring it up. words could not describe how much you hated him.

"shut up, haechan. no one fucking asked for your opinion," you spat, still attempting to grab another beer while you wrestled with kun.

the young boy laughed, sitting on the stool next to you. "such nasty words from such a pretty face, can't tell me that hendery fucked you up that badly."

his words always got to you, always nestled under your skin in a way that no one else did, no one else could. "don't know why you always feel the need to get involved."

"don't know why you always end up a shitty mess after dating a guy for three days-"

"okay, okay, come behind the bar, there you go," kun manouvered you around the bar, sensing the tension and not wanting to see where it would end up.

your and haechan's rivalry was well known across campus, since freshman year you had made your distate of the man known. you were in the same business class, and every single lesson he spent somehow teasing or testing you, and when he got your number it was somehow worse.

"honestly, you would think you had matured by now, been about three years of passing through men for about three weeks each before slagging them off and dating their best friends, or maybe some people are just sluts and can't help-"

"fuck off, hyuck," kun snapped, physically holding you back at this point, one hand wrapped around your waist as he forced you down onto the stool behind him, giving you a glass of water in a poor attempt to sober you up. "fight her another day."

"not looking for a fight," haechan's voice was aggrevatingly smooth, as if he wasn't lying through his teeth, "just speaking the truth. if she can't handle that, then that's on her."

"lee donghyuck, i swear to-"

kun finally snapped, covering your mouth with his hand before turning to the smirking man in front of you. "get out, haechan."

"kun," he whined, face suddenly dropping, "cmon i was joking."

but the bartender didn't back down, pointing towards the door with his spare time. "she's not doing good right now, get out."

"you're losing a paying customers business," he sighed, but complied with the older gentleman, sending you a flying kiss before getting up to leave the bar. "night, doll."

you held your middle finger up at him, but you could feel yourself getting sleepier in kun's hold, and before you knew it you were struggling to keep your eyes open, body slumped against the wall as your eyeslashes fluttered.

"gonna kill him," you mumbled to yourself, drunk and delirious.

kun laughed, wandered over to you and patting you gently on the head. "who, hyuck?"

"yeah. fucking hate him."

"i don't think you do," kun knelt on the floor in front of you, meeting your eyeline. it was a quiet night, and all he could do was look after his friend. "i think you guys secretly like each other. maybe even love."

you scoffed, letting an assortment of drunk laughs and hiccups emerge from your mouth. "love him?! you're crazy, kun."

"trust me. i just know these things."

"i will never love him," you stated, words sounding very defintiive, even as you were dozing off, "never ever ever."

[silvercap]

for the drabble game, can I get a 12? any whumpee any scenario :D

- @seth-whumps

Absolutely!

12. "Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

Leon rises back to consciousness to finds himself floating in a cold, dark ocean of agony, every bone in his body throbbing despite the soft surface gently cradling him. He can feel varying pressures across his skin, as if he's encased in heavy boulders in some spots and draped in delicate cloth in others. His head pulses with aching pain that radiates all the way down to his hips and back, paralyzing him and forcing him to breathe shallowly through his mouth. The air is dry and stale, sharp against his throat, as if ragged claws have torn through the soft flesh when he wasn't looking and left him gasping.

Faint sounds filter in as Leon slowly grows closer to the membrane between sleep and waking, distant voices speaking in hushed, sombre tones like the kind Leon would expect to find at a funeral. The thought bothers him, makes worry flicker through his chest, a faint frown pulling at Leon's brows as he forces himself to focus on the sound. The voices come in snatches, disjointed and lost at times under random beeps and clicks from the room around him.

"How is he?" Leon hears, the person's voice soft and familiar.

"Stable." That's Piers, the epiphany providing sudden clarity. Leon knows that voice like the back of his hand. Piers sounds upset, almost hollow with emotion, prompting Leon to try and pry open his gluey eyelids---only to be met with a dull, staticky gray expanse that takes a long moment to be recognizable in the shadows. A ceiling? "The surgeries went well, but they're worried about his lungs. Right now they just want to let him rest and get ahead of the pain."

Who are they talking about? A wave of exhaustion distracts Leon from the conversation, an attempt to shift his body again making him aware of the weights and random tendrils wrapped around him to keep him immobile. There's a pull in his elbow that reminds him of being in the hospital, another valiant attempt to flicker open his eyelids stopped by the fuzzy heaviness pulsing through his arteries. He's practically swimming in it, held aloft from the soupy pull of sleep only by the pillow beneath his head.

"---sorry," the first voice is saying when Leon tunes in again, wracked with guilt. "If only I had---"

"Don't, Chris." That's a third voice, also one of Leon's friends---or at least he thinks so. This time, his eyes allow themselves to stay partially opened when he pushes past the bleariness, revealing the dim ceiling of whatever room he's in, dappled in spots with faint pools of fluorescent white. Leon frowns. Why are his friends gathered in this strange, quiet room together? More importantly, why can't he seem to figure out what he's doing here?

"Jill---"

"You can't blame yourself." Piers again, this time tinged with anger. "He's so.... so stubborn, you never could have changed his mind. Retreat wasn't an option with civilians in harm's way."

He sounds worried, Leon thinks, fighting the insistent droop of his eyelids to glance to the left. Moving his head even slightly makes something shift on his face, keenly aware of the edge of whatever it is digging into his cheek. He tries to make a sound, call out and ask what's going on, but his voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper.

"Do they know how long it'll take for him to wake up?"

"Not really. He's been sedated pretty good, from what they've told me, at least until they reassess tomorrow. Hopefully soon, but with the---the head trauma, it's hard to say how coherent---"

Leon coughs, the sound hoarse, and the voices cut off in an instant. He tries to sit up, see where they've gone, but he can't move his arms at all, a faint sound of choked pain slipping from his mouth even though he can't really feel anything anymore. Something is slowly dragging him away from reality, and it's all Leon can do to struggle against the increasing strength of the current. A shadow appears in front of him, the vague shape of a person.

"Leon?" Piers murmurs softly, the ridged expanse of his scarred face cast in chiaroscuro by the glow of something beside Leon's bed. He looks concerned, scared, and Leon makes a faint sound of distress. What's going on? "Leon, can you hear me?"

"P---iers," he rasps, little more than a soft exhale. "Piers?"

"Shh," Piers sits quickly at Leon's side, reaching out his flesh hand to gently guide Leon's head back to centre and readjust whatever had shifted on his face. "Shh, it's alright, baby. You shouldn't be awake yet."

"Wh---'s---" Leon tries, suddenly breathless, " 's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Piers soothes, a thumb smoothing over Leon's cheek. "Everything's okay, go back to sleep. I promise everyone is alright."

Leon's breath catches, his hand moving sluggishly to paw at Piers' arm in confusion. He doesn't think it actually gets there.

"Sleep," Piers says again, tenderness lacing his voice. "It's okay, Leon, just close your eyes. Just rest."

Leon's surprised to find that his eyelids have already fallen shut while he wasn't looking, his body relaxing back into the soft mattress as a gentle hand strokes his skin with the delicate brush of a butterfly's wing. Piers is warm, his body close and solid, and Leon sighs. He is tired.

The last thing he hears before slipping under entirely is Piers' soft voice, humming what Leon's pretty sure is a lullaby.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting David Allen Griffin

(Not my gif) (Requested by anonymous)

(I'll try to get the dating portion of this finished in the near future. I felt like there was too much included in this scenario to put it all in one post anyway. Hope you enjoy!)

“Have you ever noticed that the older you get, the smaller you become?”

- You don’t know the exact moment you started to feel insignificant but it felt as though the minute you turned eighteen, it was magnified sevenfold. Once you got out of high school and you got your license and you started working, you started to realize just how anonymous the rest of the world really was. 

- You could pass by hundreds of people a day, and yet, you wouldn’t be able to recall a single one of them off the top of your head. You could sit on a curb for hours and no one would even bother looking your way. If you started crying, no one would ask if you were okay. If you were visibly struggling, they’d look the other way. It all just felt so …lonely. 

- Maybe that’s why you started your humble radio show. Maybe a part of you was yearning: yearning to reach out and brave that daunting gap between you and the rest of the fast paced society that was whirling around you. To speak to the people who looked a lot like yourself: like-minded individuals who just wanted to talk to someone who was willing to take the time out of their day to listen; to speak to someone who wanted to make a connection with them regardless of how fleeting that connection may prove to be. 

- Anonymity provided the people who called into your show with a sense of protection. They quickly found themselves throwing their inhibitions to the wind, allowing themselves to speak freely and comfortably, to vent their frustrations. Most of them were lonely: happy to speak about anything at all. Some were opinionated and prideful: wanting to talk about their views and passionately debate any point that you brought up that they didn’t agree with. Others were desperate: seeking guidance from another faceless person who tried their best not to judge. You’re not entirely sure where David fell on that list, though perhaps it was somewhere in the middle. 

- You worked your radio show late at night which meant that most people weren’t around to listen to it: if you were lucky, you’d get ten or so callers a night, and if you were really lucky, none of them would be perverts. Most of the time, you’d just play music for your listeners or ramble on about relevant facts or whatever else came to mind that could help you pass the time.

- David's calls were a welcome reprieve, a break from all of the prank callers and heavy breathers. You always knew what you were getting into whenever you heard his voice, knew it would never let you down. After a while, you’d begun looking forward to talking to him. 

- He didn’t call regularly and the lengths of his conversations always varied; ranging from guest speaking for a couple of minutes to practically becoming a co-host, but you were always more than happy to talk to him. That was, until his calls started taking a darker turn.... 

“Have you ever thought about hurting someone.”

- The question had thrown you off, your eyes glancing towards the line that connected the two of you. “I think most people have,” You’d answered after a moment or two. “When someone wrongs us I think it’s sort of natural to get upset and want to get even.”

“No, no. Not when you’re wronged. I mean a total stranger. Someone you don’t even know.” Came his reply. 

“I can’t say I have David. …Have you?” He didn’t speak for a moment, the silence feeling much more heavy than the ones you were used to. Finally, he let out an exhale and answered. 

“All the time.” The way he said it made you shiver: the way his voice seemed to change, shift into something a little darker, something with more depth than you were capable of understanding. 

“Why do you think that is?” You questioned earnestly, intrigued yet wary. David had never behaved like this before, and this slight crack in his facade had managed to fill you with morbid curiosity. 

“I don’t know. It’s just always been there. Something in me just wants to do it,” He’d answered, pausing for a long moment before continuing. “What do you think about that?”

- The call ended soon after, and the next call you'd had with him made it seem as though things were back to normal, but after that, there was a noticeable shift in the way that David talked to you. He still spoke about music or the same types of things he’d always brought up, but amongst all of that were conversations about far more morbid topics.

- You wrote it off as an interest in psychology or forensics, sometimes an odd way of wording things while trying to have a deep conversation, but after a while, you couldn’t deny that there was something truly off about your anonymous friend.

- In a matter of months, he’d shifted from talking about bands to telling you about his violent thoughts: about how he’d stalked a woman, about her routine, about how he’d killed her, and about how it felt. You’d let him speak about it for a while, mainly out of morbid curiosity: unsure of whether he was reciting fact or fiction. You’d answered truthfully when he asked questions, you'd pried for more information, tried to pick apart whether he was being truthful or not.

- You went to the police once you were certain, telling them everything you knew, trying your best to recall all of the details he’d told you about himself; things you’d forgotten about as time went on. They’d chosen to tap your radio station, encouraging you to talk to him and try to get as much information out of him as you possibly could without being suspicious: a taxing request which involved listening to some gruesome details that you’d rather not have heard. 

“You went to the police, they’re listening in now.” He stated with complete certainty one day. It wasn’t a question and you were sure there was no way of denying it. 

“They have my lines tapped. They tried tracing your calls but they can’t link you to any one place,” You’d answered truthfully before hesitantly asking your next question. “Does that make you upset?”

- He took a long pause before he replied. “You’ll have to do more than that to upset me, y/n. You said it yourself: all they’re doing now is listening in like the rest of your audience. They might as well be sat in their cars.”

“I guess you're right. …Is there anything you want to say to them?” 

“I don’t want to talk to them. I want to talk to you. I tried with them, but it didn't work: they didn’t get me like you do. You’re the one who understands me, who sees me. We used to have such great conversations. ...You talk differently now. I liked us better before they got to you.” Us. You weren’t sure how to feel about that one.

- Some days he’d make conversation like normal, tease the police with useless small talk, call just to check in and see how you were doing. Other days he’d spill clues: have the police rush to investigate, have them form a massive swat team just to find another cadaver and get no closer to finding him than they had before. Whenever they tried to talk to him themselves; trying to reason with him or angrily cursing at him in frustration, they’d be met with an empty line or a passive aggressive reminder that he called to talk to you, not them.

“Did you sleep well?” He’d asked one day, curious yet casual.

“I slept fine. Why?”

“No reason. …You just look a little tired lately.”

- The comment made your heart sink, body stiffening in your seat as your eyes shot over to the police man who was stationed in the room with you, finding his eyes already on you. You struggled to respond, your tongue feeling heavy and dry in your mouth as you tried to form words with it. "You've seen me.”

"I see you a lot." He answered, as if it was the easiest thing in the word to admit.

"When?" 

"Whenever I can." 

"Why?" You couldn't come up with anything else, floundering at this new piece of information. 

"Because you're nice to look at." You faltered, unsure of what to say. He hung up after a moment of silence.

- Then came the call that changed everything....

"Hi, it's me." You nearly dropped the phone. Your home phone.

"How do you know my number?"

"I know a lot of things about you.” He answered casually, almost teasing, you could practically hear the smile in his voice. 

"Yeah? So what's my roommate's name?" You wanted to call his bluff, wanted to deter him a little with the promise of someone else living in the same house as you— being there to protect you from him if it really came down to it. 

“Oh come on, y/n. Really?” You didn’t like the amusement in his tone.

“What is it?” You insisted. 

- He paused before speaking, a heavy beat of silence that felt far longer than it actually was. "You don't have one.”

"Why are you calling?" You attempted to steel yourself, trying to keep a level tone and calm your shaking hands. 

"I wanted to talk to you."

"We spoke last night." You reminded as if he could have actually forgotten. 

"I wanted to speak to you in private." He clarified and it made your chest tighten.

"Why?" You asked, though he ultimately ignored the question. 

“You never told me you had a boyfriend. In all our times of talking, you never brought it up.” His voice was more serious now, taking on a sort of grave tone which was rare for him. No longer his chipper, sometimes taunting self. 

“I didn’t?” You replied, trying your best to remain calm. Your question wasn’t too far off from what you were thinking: out of all the times you’d spoken; especially before he let his real self shine through, you would have imagined bringing up your significant other at least once.

“No,” He insisted, pausing before continuing. “I don’t really know what you see in him.” 

- You’re not sure how to reply, and so you don't, waiting for him to continue, knowing he will. “What does he think of all this?”

“I think you already know.”

“You’re right. He doesn’t like it, though that's when he’s actually around to talk to you. He doesn’t make a lot of time for you, does he? I wonder why he even cares if you continue helping the police, continue talking to me, it’s not like he’s doing much to protect you anyway.”

“He’s a busy guy.” The words feel alien, strange on your tongue. The concept of verbally defending your boyfriend to a serial killer is almost comedic. 

“So am I. I still make time for you.”

“Why do you?” 

“I’ve told you before.”

“Tell me again.”

“Because we understand each other. Because you were the only person I had, and even while being in a relationship, I was the only person you had too.… Your boyfriend might as well have been a ghost: never there but never fully leaving. He's just a namesake, you’re better off without him. At least then you'll be fully free.”

- You didn't speak for a long moment, taking in his words. “Thank you.” You hesitantly responded.

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you for being there.” You don’t know why you said it. 

“Break up with your boyfriend.” His voice was quiet but there was something deeply commanding in it, something your words seemed to have awakened. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“Break up with him.” He repeated after a moment of silence.

“I can't do that.”

"Yes you can, you can and you will. Break up with him or I'll get rid of him myself."

“I thought you didn't kill men.”

“I don't, but I'll do it for us. I'll do it just to make sure he's out of your life.”

“Why?”

“Isn't it obvious?” 

“I want you to say it.”

“Not yet,” He replied, pausing momentarily, hanging onto the silence that formed in both your voices absences, savoring the connection between the two of you. “Goodnight y/n.”

- You don’t tell the police he called. You don’t know why. 

- It eats you up inside, and yet, you still can’t bring yourself to do it. You keep it to yourself and let it consume your thoughts, uncertainty riddling your mind. When he asks if you told anyone, you answer truthfully. When he asks if you will, you tell him you won’t. You don’t know why you do.

- He calls you at home in the early mornings. He tells you things he doesn’t say in front of the police: not things that would help them but nothing entirely innocent either. Most of the time he talks about you: about the way you look, about your day, about your connection and the things he likes about you. When he calls into the radio show, he acts as if the calls never take place, as if all the communication you have is inside that room and that you won’t be talking mere hours later while the officers are at the precinct without a clue.

- It becomes obvious that his fascination with you isn't entirely platonic, that he believes there's a deeper connection between the two of you that's brewing beneath the surface. He never outright tells you how he feels, never tells you that he loves you, but he gives you hints. When you break up with your boyfriend, tears falling from your eyes just as the phone begins to ring, he praises you and tells you that it’ll only bring you closer. He can't imagine the inner turmoil that those words bring to you.

"I want to meet you." You tell him one night. Decided.

“We already have.” He replies, referencing the times he's recalled seeing you in person, interacting with you without you even knowing.

“Not like that. I wanna see you. I wanna talk to you.” You insist.

“We’re talking now.”

“I wanna touch you.” The words come out of your mouth as if your voice doesn’t belong to you. It’s late at night, you're lonely, you don’t know why you say it.

- He’s silent for a long moment, and for some reason, you worry that you’ve scared him off, as if that's not something you should pray for and rejoice about.

“How?” He finally speaks and you know right then and there that those words were your golden ticket. His voice is deep with something and it sends a chill down your spine.

“I don’t know," You answer truthfully, faltering. "I just want to feel you, to make sure you’re real, to feel something solid, something that doesn’t disappear.”

“I want you to see me. I think about it all the time.” He comments, taking in your own vulnerable admission and giving one of his own. He trails off for a few moments before he finally speaks again, giving you an address and a time before he hangs up without another word.

- In a moment of clarity, you finally tell the police, feeling as though you’re going insane. You lie about everything else but you give them that, scared of being arrested for keeping away what they might consider crucial information. 

- The police swarm the area but they never find him and you return home later that day, shivering with nerves and feeling as though you’re walking the plank; even as the officers with you insist that you’ll be fine and that they’ll be right outside your apartment in case anything were to happen to you. 

- You almost expect it when you turn around at the sound of your bedroom door shutting, when you find him standing there, basked in the light of your apartment, far more handsome than you ever could have imagined. He stills under your gaze, shoulders squaring, standing tall as you take him in; seeming almost proud of himself. He doesn’t look particularly angry but his eyes bore into your own— as if he can read every thought you’ve ever had. It’s the most seen you’ve felt in a long time, as if you’re completely naked and vulnerable.

- When he walks closer, you’re certain he’s going to hurt you: that he’s going to kill you and instantly end whatever the two of you had after a taste of your betrayal. Instead, he grabs your face, shushing you as you try to explain why you did what you did, gazing into your eyes for a long moment, watching them shine with tears. All before he leans down and kisses you. 

- You don’t know why you kiss back….

[russellsppttemplates]

Breathe for me (Pierre Gasly)

Y/N's anxiety has been building throughout the week and it finally crumbled down

Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I've represented it well enough. It is different for different people, so what I have here is a possible scenario and not the only scenario.

Tags: @myloverjk-blog

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's anxiety symptoms which build up to an anxiety attack

You and Pierre had been invited to join his friends for dinner, and while you thought you were better from last night, things were showing otherwise. Walking around with your skirt unzipped, you tapped your tummy in hopes that the nervous feeling would settle once for all.

Things had felt off throughout the wholr day, it just hadn't been feeling right. And, quite honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to go and sit through a dinner, pretending you were fully composed when, deep down, your mind kept racing and you couldn't shut it off.

It wasn't because of the company, after all, you had known them for a good while and even felt comfortable around them to the point where admitting what was going on wouldn't be an issue, but right now, Pierre seemed to be the only person you could be with and not feel overwhelmed.

"Amour, do you need- hey, are you feeling okay?", Pierre asked, noticing your nervous stance as you paced around the bedroom, "hey, talk to me, please", he asked, stopping you on your tracks and holding you in place as softly as he could.

"I don't know if I can go. I'm not feeling very well, so I think it's best if you go and I stay", you said, genuinely wanting him to go and have a good time, knowing you wouldn't be the best company right now and that this particular group of friends hadn't been together at the same place in quite some time.

Pushing you to sit on the bed and sitting next to you, Pierre laced his fingers in yours while making sure you were looking at him and taking in every word he said, "hey, we don't need to go. I can call them and tell them we can't make it, they'll understand", he offered, "I want you to be okay, no matter what", he said, "but you can go, I'll just stay here. You haven't seen them in a while and you don't need when you will all have the opportunity to get together again", you said. Finding today to be the date where everyone was available had been enough of a struggle.

"I'm not leaving you feeling like this. I'm staying", Pierre said, grabbing comfier clothes from the wardrobe and helping you undress, "we are going to have a cosy night in, how does that sound?", he asked.

After changing into comfortable clothes, you and Pierre stayed tucked in bed after he texted his friends, his arms protectively around you as you managed to relax a little bit, happy to stay in his embrace while he read a book with you.

.

"Do you think we can get that done until Friday?", one of your colleagues asked, "the client needs it for their meeting, apparently he's having dinner with the investors", she rolled her eyes.

"I think I can, but they should really stop and think about doing these things in such a rushed way, I mean, it's not the first time we're almost running against the clock", you reasoned back, booking another meeting with her to sort out the last final details before handing the project in.

The uneasiness feeling that had been with you since you woke up was not sitting right, so when you logged off your laptop, you decided that working out would be a good distraction and allow you to forget about it.

"Are you heading for a run?", Pierre asked you as he walked inside the bedroom, seeing you put on your sports bra, "I was planning on doing some yoga, maybe go for a walk after", you said, watching him walk over to the drawer where he kept his workout clothes, "do you mind if I joing you? I promise I won't utter a word", he smirked, kissing your cheek and changing from his day clothes.

You and Pierre arranged the room so you could lay the mats, pressing play on the video and doing your best to mimick the moves and positions the young woman was going on the screen. You weren't an expert by all means, but exercise had always been a good escape when you felt overwhelmed, and having Pierre with you, even if you weren't talking or touching, made you feel his support and attentiveness.

"Still up for that walk?", he asked as he handed you your bottle of water, "yes, I think so", you smiled.

Walking on that park had become a common thing for you, being almost able to walk with your eyes closed from how many times you had been there, "are you feeling better now?", Pierre asked.

By now, he had noticed your patterns and preferences, so it wasn't too hard for him to notice that your day hadn't been the best, "yes, thank you for joining me. I know you know you don't need to, but I'm happy you did", you sighed, "my deadline just became a lot more real, so I need to hurry. But I'm also aware I can't do much if I'm worried, so here I am, trying to shush the worry away, at least for a bit", you explained, feeling your boyfriend squeeze your hand in his, "you did well, amour".

.

Work was finally over, you had handed in your project and you thought it would make you feel at ease, that it would allow you to finally feel a little bit lighter, but it didn't. Your thoughts were still spiralling, and they didn't seem like they were on the way to settling down. Your legs started to feel tingly, and you didn't trust them to stay up, so you sat on the living room floor with your back against the sofa, letting your body feel the softness of the rug while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.

You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you heard a noise far away, approaching quickly as you could make out your name in what the person was saying.

"Amour, Y/N, hey...! Breathe for me, yeah?", said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, feeling Pierre's hand coming to hold your own, the feel of his fingers very faint as you struggled in regulating your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, amour. Everything is fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something you had mentioned before that always calmed you.

Encouraging you to breathe with him, you finally got up to his rhythm, looking up to his eyes and despite the worry in them, you also saw the calm that comes after the storm has passed. How it all seems too much, it bursts, and then you're just left with the aftermath.

"There you go, that's good, good, just like that", he said, sitting on the floor and sitting on your side so he could pull your body against his, seeing you were struggling to hold yourself upright.

You stood there a couple of minutes, your eyes closing for a little bit before you croaked a few words out, "can we go to the sofa, please?", feeling his arms go around your back and under your knees, swiftly pulling you against him and getting up from his spot, walking to the sofa and cuddling there with you, brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Do you want some water? A snack perhaps", he advised, "I'm just a little tired, but thanks", you smiled weakly, "you're alright, ma belle, take all the time you need".

You must have fallen asleep on your boyfriend's chest, because when you woke up he was still there, but the window was no longer letting sunlight in and rather moonlight, the TV was on what looked like the evening news and you could feel a blanket covering you and Pierre.

"Hey, you", he whispered, kissing your forehead as he helped you sit up straight, "are you feeling better? A little more rested?", he asked, brushing the hairs away from your eyes, "yes, I am", you smiled, "thank you".

"Those hadn't happened in a while", he pointed out, "yes, it had been a while. I've been able to manage it, but it just crumbled today, before I could get it together, it's just crumbled", you explained

"That's okay, it happens, amour. You're still very strong to have managed ti well, I'm proud of you", he said honestly. Pierre always made you feel safe and never once judged you, instead always wanting to learn how to help you when you needed him and how he could make things better for you. So he wasn't lying when he said he was proud of you and how far you had come.

"My throat is a bit dry", you said, getting up and being followed by Pierre to the kitchen, sipping on the water as he grabbed something to snack on, "do you want some food?", he asked, "no, I'm good", you stated.

"What happened that got you to have the attack?", he wondered, "I handed in my project today. It had been building the last few days, and I was so sure they would be gone by the time I submitted it", you shrugged your shoulders, "now I know what to expect", you smiled, wanting to comfort Pierre and erase the crease between his eyebrows.

"Do you want to go and watch a movie? There's a new Disney one I haven't seen yet", he changed the subject, having gotten the information he needed and looking for a distraction, "Lead the way, handsome".

[sseomtada]

being [ruben dias]

a stunning revelation only drives you and ruben closer.

warnings: 18+ | wc: 6212 | 7/8

You shook off your surprise after a beat to give her a hug.

“I had to come and see you at some point.” She squeezed your shoulders. “You haven’t been back in months.”

It was difficult to not feel a bit guilty. Prior to moving to Manchester and because your office wasn’t even half an hour away from your home, you’d frequently go back to visit her. Even though things had been going pretty much nonstop in your new city, you could’ve at least made a weekend trip to drop by.

“I’m sorry, I know Jason must be driving you crazy with his antics.” You tried to joke to lighten the mood.

“Maluco…he misses you too.” Her head shook.

You wheeled the bag she’d brought along with her inside and told her to make herself comfortable. The way your blood was rushing and your heartbeat was pounding felt like you were in danger of passing out.

Your only option was to let her in. What else could you do? Be vague about the situation and tell her to come back later because you had some male company over? Judging by the looks of her, she was fresh from the airport. Also important to note was that your mom definitely expected to stay with you during however long her visit was, so she didn’t have a hotel reservation lined up either.

What would you do about Ruben? Your eyes darted to your phone on the coffee table. If you could distract her for a while, maybe you could successfully sneak him out of here without her noticing. It wouldn’t be the first time you and him had to complete such a mission.

“I’ll put on some of that tea you like.” You swiped the device and took it with you to the kitchen.

Luckily, due to your inability to have dishes lingering around, the two plates and glasses you’d used for dinner had already been thrown into the dishwasher. His shoes were also tucked into the cabinet by your doorway. What other evidence of him…

You bit down on a gasp, eyes widening to turn back to your living room. Where the fuck was his shirt? It wasn’t on the sofa where your mom was sitting as far as you could see. Though it could be tangled in the blanket at the other end. You said a silent prayer that she didn’t get too chilly and worked on brewing her tea even faster to prevent that.

In the meantime, you cracked open your phone to see that Ruben had already sent you a message.

Is that your mom…?

Yes 😭

You jumped at the sound of a faint notification pin. With a deep breath, you steeled your nerves as much as possible. If anything, she’d probably assume it was your device going off and not think anything was awry.

We’re gonna have to whip out Project Switcharoo. You remember it?

Of course, I invented it.

Despite the absolute absurdity of the situation, you managed to crack a smile. Ruben was always a respectful and upstanding person. When two teenagers were in love, though, it was hard to accept things like not having boys in your room after dark.

He came up with a plan that was like the classic method of pickpocketing - a bait and switch scenario. For tonight’s occasion, it would look something like this. While she was occupied, he would sneak his way up to your guest bathroom to clear out the bedroom. You’d then take her to your room to show her around, pulling her to the window where the doorway wasn’t visible and allowing him to swiftly make a break for it.

Don’t forget to fix the bed.

Got it. What about my shirt?

You might have to steal one of my hoodies.

The kettle whistled, starting the timer on your mission. Once the tea was fixed and he saw you cross over from the kitchen to the living room, he’d start making his way to phase one. You did up her cup just the way she liked it, took another steadying breath and made your way over.

“You usually hate taking night flights, why didn’t you come earlier?” Your hands shook slightly as you handed her the beverage.

She took a slow sip of her tea, gaze not meeting yours. The fine hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Having lived with your mom for most of your life, you could automatically tell when something was off.

From you saw her at the door and she didn’t greet you half as excitedly as she did on phone calls, you felt it. You tried to battle that notion by rationalizing that you were being extra paranoid because she’d shown up during literally the last moment you’d want her to. It was impossible to ignore now, especially given how long she was taking to answer your question.

“Is everything okay?” You could feel your throat swelling.

“That’s what I came to ask you.” She finally spoke.

Your mom sighed and rested the cup of tea onto the side table. She reached into her purse to pull out her phone. This wasn’t an impromptu drop by driven by your extended absence after all. You knew what it was - an intervention.

Her screen lit up your view as she slid the device onto your lap. There was a screenshot of an Instagram post and in it was a photo of you and Ruben. It was taken on the night of the Nike launch party. You flipped to the next image in her folder. Someone with crazy zoom had caught you two walking towards his car at City’s training grounds.

There were no words. Your mind first went to the conversation Ruben and you had earlier about how much media attention he got, the fact that there was already news out there concerning you two. It was unnerving to actually be staring at the proof of that.

Then came the guilt. The last thing you wanted was for her to find out through the grapevine that you were back together with him. Whether she’d come across it by chance, was sent the post or actively went looking for it didn’t matter. You should’ve been the one to break the news.

And lastly, fear. Her flying out here as soon as she found out meant that she was absolutely not pleased and potentially worried about the state of your mental health. She couldn’t be blamed for that. Any mother that saw their daughter go through what you did after the breakup would have the same reaction to seeing you with the man that put you there.

“Ruben and I are dating again.” You admitted. “We talked it over and decided to give things a chance.”

Your mom scoffed. “See, this is why I had to come. Do you hear yourself? You’re, what, dating him? After everything he put you through?”

Although you anticipated her being upset, you didn’t expect the backlash to be this severe. It honestly took you by surprise. You gave her back her phone and stood, needing some distance from the anger she was radiating.

“I don’t expect you to be happy about it. All I ask is that you trust me and my decision, and not belittle either.” Your voice was even despite everything you felt.

She spoke to you as if you were some thoughtless, naive child. God knows you didn’t just take him back without considering every outcome, especially the worse case scenario. If shit went badly between you two again, you were ready to take accountability.

“I do trust you.” Her tone was less combative. “But do I trust your decision? I can’t…you’ve never been able to think straight when it came to that boy.”

It felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You didn’t think it was unreasonable of you to ask for her not to act as if you were being trivial. The fact that she was speaking to you like you were still the same person that you were seven years ago was hurtful, and quite frankly, insulting.

“My mind is as clear as it’s ever been.” You sighed, growing resigned with this conversation.

She wasn’t though, “No, it isn’t. If you had any common sense left, you wouldn’t be caught dead with him!”

“Mom-“ Your gasp was cut short.

With the unexpected, heated exchange, you’d forgotten all about Ruben still being in the apartment. That was until he made his was out of hiding, clearly having overheard it all. Thankfully he had found your pile of oversized hoodies to cover up. You didn’t know how many more insults you could take tonight.

“I’m sorry.” Ruben made his presence known. “We - I should’ve reached out to you first.”

Your mom spun slowly to look at him. It was a searing, scrutinizing leer that even had you shivering. You’d never seen her take in anyone that way. To his credit, he didn’t cower beneath her glare. He looked like he was ready to accept whatever vitriol she had for him.

“This is exactly what I mean.” She laughed ruefully, pointing between you two.

You were about to tell her to stop when he shook his head.

“Was this your plan all along?” Her question was directed at him. “Were you lying when you promised me you’d-“

Ruben’s eyes were wide with shock and…something you couldn’t quite place. It appeared to be worry, but not for himself. The way she stopped short of her barrage didn’t sit well with you either.

You watched as they seemed to have some nonverbal exchange. At that point, it became obvious that something had happened between them. Something you didn’t know about. Did she confront him after the break up? What promise was she talking about?

“What’s going on?” You asked Ruben directly.

He became a man that was visibly torn, eyes darting between yours and your mom’s. The decision of whether or not he should say anything weighed heavy on his conscience.

You turned to her instead, “Mom, what are you talking about?”

Instead of being met with all the fire you faced before, she bore a similar downcast demeanor as him. Her head hung as she placed her hands to her waist. It was a telltale sign that whatever you were about to find out wasn’t going to look good on her part.

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Ruben made his way to leave. “When you’re ready, call me.”

Your head was spinning with how much had happened in such a short period of time. How did your night go from tickle fights, to cooking up an escape plan and now to being on the verge of hearing about a conversation kept hidden from you for nearly a decade?

She sat back down on the sofa, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. Instead, you found yourself pacing back and forth while your mom quietly worked through whatever was eating away at her.

“Please just…tell me.” You couldn’t stomach the silence anymore.

Her voice was barely audible as she finally confessed, “The reason Ruben broke up with you is because I asked him to.”

september 15th 2017

Ruben

He was brimming with excitement. All of the sacrifices he’d made, every second of commitment, it was all coming into fruition. His coach told him after practice that he was going to debut for the first team during the match tomorrow.

The first person he wanted to tell was you. You’d been by his side since the literal beginning, when his dream of becoming a footballer was just that - a fantasy. Having you in his life made a journey that broke so many others more than tolerable. He trained and played with your support always at the forefront of his mind.

Ruben bounded his way up the steps to your place and stopped short. Your mom stood with her back facing him, a trail of smoke floating into the air. That was new. Or maybe it was an old habit she indulged in from time to time. When she became aware of being there, the cigarette landed under her shoe.

“I’ve been caught,” Her teeth flashed. “Don’t tell Y/N.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” His fingers zipped across his lips.

She nodded in appreciation. There was clearly something on her mind. He knew that life hadn’t been the easiest for her or you and couldn’t imagine how lonely it must’ve been sometimes. That was why he made himself available to help out as much as he could’ve, if only to lessen the burdens a bit.

“Does she ever talk about her father?” The question she asked confirmed his suspicion.

You never brought him up, in fact. Given that, he didn’t feel as if it was his place to pry. Ruben had heard through the grapevine of neighborhood gossips about his absence and how you didn’t even know who he was.

“She doesn’t.” He replied.

Your mom looked up at the sky, “That’s understandable. You see…”

Ruben found himself listening to the missing pieces that not even you knew. She told him about how they’d met when she was sixteen and that she immediately fell for him - a young, budding football star.

It wasn’t because she was getting attention from someone so coveted, but because he actually saw her the way she’d always craved to be seen. So when he moved to a new team in another country to further pursue his career, she followed along.

She left everything behind. Her family, friends and education. Her dream became seeing his come true. When it did, they were both in the happiest stage of their relationship. And then at nineteen, she found out that she was pregnant with you.

The life she wanted was all coming into place. She thought the next step would be welcoming their baby, getting married and maybe having a few more to fill up their home. What she got instead was abandonment. He didn’t want any of that, or you.

Her parents had warned her that it would happen, but she casted their concerns aside as unfair judgment on his part. They didn’t see her like he did. Moving back in with them after what had happened wasn’t possible given the way they’d left things.

“I see so much of myself in her.” Your mom smiled. “She looks at you the same way I used to look at her dad.” Ruben understood why she was telling him all of this. It was obvious that she was scared you were following the same path and would end up in the same predicament. He didn’t take any offense to her perhaps believing that he was capable of doing the same thing.

“I love her, a lot.” His cheeks rose quickly. “More than I ever knew was possible.”

When he used to think about love, he always tried to rationalize it - to make it make sense. It was only after he realized that he felt that towards you that he came to know the emotion was something that couldn’t be explained. Even saying those words didn’t feel like enough to encompass the spectrum of moments that all combined to make him experience what could only be verbally express in such a limited capacity.

“That’s good because it means you’ll do anything for her.” She nodded.

“Yeah, I would.” He breathed. See, where was the rationale behind something like that?

“I need you to break up with her. She’s too dependent on you and it’ll ruin her in the long run.”

If words could render him speechless and knock him off his feet, those were the ones that would be able to do so. He couldn’t quite believe that was what she said at first. His mind instantly went into denial mode, because surely she was joking. When he stared back at unflinching eyes, he knew that she was being dead serious.

“I…can’t do that, respectfully.” Ruben shook his head.

You might see him in a light that sometimes is admittedly pressuring, making him wonder if he could live up to be that man you painted him out to be in your mind. That didn’t worry him though. If anything, he wanted to keep trying to prove to himself, and you, that he could be.

Beside that, you were strong in your own right. He’d never met anyone who took advantage of every little opportunity they received and made the most out of them. Even in your darkest moments, he saw the determination in you to not want to quit. You inspired him.

“I’m not going to stand by and watch her destroy herself like I did. You’re the only one who can prevent that.” He saw that same persistence in the gaze he got. “The choice is yours. Will it be you or me?”

Ruben thought he understood what this conversation was about in the beginning, but he’d read it all wrong. He only now grasped that she was giving him an ultimatum of sorts. One where there was no real decision for him to make, it was a catch 22.

If he didn’t break up with you, then your mom would abandon you just like your father did to you both. He would have to live with knowing that he was the reason why you had no blood ties left in your life, a notion that was breaking him even in hypotheticals.

Since he quickly realized that he had no choice, he began to reframe it in a way that didn’t hurt as much. The only loser in this situation would be him. You’d be hurt at first, maybe devastated, but you’d have people around you to help you through it. He would just have to figure out a way to deal with his own pain, perhaps starting with taking solace in knowing that he didn’t rob you of your only family.

“Promise me you’ll do the right thing.” Your mom looked back at him as she approached the door.

She lingered there until the words begrudgingly left his lips, “I promise.”

o presente

Everything burned.

Your eyes and nose, your heart itself. Sure, you’d experienced heartbreak before but it was child’s play compared to what was wreaking havoc in your soul - betrayal. Never in a million years did you ever expect the reason behind your breakup to be your own mother.

The person sitting in front of you crying tears of her own was a foreign entity. You failed to recognize the woman that baked you cakes, taught you dance routines and held you at your lowest.

How could she do that to you? Did she think that forcing Ruben to do something so cruel was the way to express the deep love she supposedly had for you? Or was it some fucked up trauma response to the past she never dealt with?

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Your mom sniffed. “I regret all the pain I caused because of that night.”

What you were going through now felt a thousand, a million times worse than then. There was no denial to turn to for even a second of hope. This ugly, soul crushing truth bared its jagged teeth and was ripping away your flesh.

“It shouldn’t have happened, but I can’t take it back.” She continued. “All I could’ve done was to be there for you to help you through it, praying that you came out stronger and you did.”

“Are you serious? How could you even think that was right?” You sobbed.

It was all loud and clear to you. She regretted putting you through hell, but she didn’t regret actually doing it. Despite watching you break down for weeks, she still believed that what she made him do somehow helped you. She wasn’t sorry that she did it, she was sorry that she got caught - that you finally found out the truth.

“I-“ You bit your lip to suppress another snivel. “I need some space. You can stay here tonight, but I want you gone tomorrow.”

The most messed up part was that saying those words hurt you even more. Even though she was the one who put you both in this situation, you felt like the bad guy for asserting a rightful boundary. Those blissful memories you had of her hadn’t suddenly evaporated into nothing.

You took your phone and keys, and left her in your apartment. An aching uncertainty hung over your head. You were unsure how long you’d need before you could even look at her again without feeling such overwhelming disappointment.

Aki’s blanket slipped from her head as soon as she took in the state of you stood in her doorway. It had to be deja vu all over for her again, how many times have you done this? Why was life continuously throwing blow after blow at your gut?

“Do you have any whiskey?” Your inquiry sprang her into action.

She shuffled over to the kitchen and brought out one of her biggest bottles along with two glasses. You didn’t have the stomach anymore for straight liquor, but you’d needed it to calm the raging sea of emotions.

Her eyes were wiped clean of any traces of slumber once she joined you on the sofa. You immediately poured two fingers and threw it back. And then doubled that.

“Woah, let’s…get to the part where you tell me what brought this on before you black out.” Aki pulled the bottle towards her.

“Seven years ago, my mother made Ruben promise he’d break up with me.” You laughed humorlessly.

It was weird watching her expression go through several shifts within the span of a few seconds. That must’ve been what you looked like from the other perspective too once you found out.

She topped up and threw back her own glass before asking you to shed light on that very stupefying statement. You filled her in starting from the pretext. All about your mom’s past and what your dad did to her.

How she told Ruben all of this on the night prior to issuing him a task so abhorrent that you still were coming to grips with fathoming it. Aki appeared to be just as woeful as you were upon the discovery.

Similar to this wound being repeatedly ripped open for you, it was for her. Your mother was like a her second one. So many days and nights were filled with the three of you laughing, dancing and crying together. She spent so much time lamenting Ruben, more than you by far, for what he’d done. And just as you were now, she felt guilty for it.

“I feel like I’ve brought so much chaos into your life and I’m sorry for it all.” You sipped the alcohol slower this time.

“Don’t do that.” Aki objected. “None of this is your fault. I’m sorry that she did this to you, Y/N. God, I can’t imagine how you feel right now.”

She pulled you in. You were so sick of crying, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Tears flowed hot and fresh, especially when you felt her own sobs racking through her body. You patted her back, lips trembling as you fought the urge to apologize again.

There was nothing to say. You were all victims of one person’s action born of insecurity. It fucking sucked, but there wasn’t much either of you could do about it now. All that was left was for you to be there for one another, to work through the pile of shit you’d been handed until you could see the ground again.

When you woke up the following day, you found that your request had been met. Your apartment was free and clear as you learned via text. Boarding my flight back. Again, I’m sorry Y/N.

You weren’t in the mood to unpack all of that again right now. The first thing you did was change into some workout clothes to head to the gym for a run. While the activity didn’t entirely clear your mind, your focus did find itself pulled more in the direction of your burning muscles than your stormy mind.

After you showered, you threw a bagel in the toaster and hopped into the shower. You forced yourself to munch on that in between massive gulps of water. The whiskey was fighting back and paired with the emotional exhaustion you felt, it was best to take the day off.

Aki and Cindy told you not to worry about work, they’d hold down the fort. You were more grateful towards them now than you’d ever been. Just don’t drink the last of my favorite coffee pods, you warned in the group chat.

You reclined onto your sofa and put on a random mix of recommended YouTube videos. No media would provide the distraction you truly needed, but it was nice to have some background noise. The cushion under your head wasn’t laying the way you wanted to, so you adjusted and felt the obstruction.

It was Ruben’s shirt. The one you had on was replaced with his before you curled up. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder what this meant now for you and him. Of course, you still wanted to be with Ruben. How did it impact him though?

He must’ve been back in that same headspace he was in when they had that exchange. Was he wondering whether or not she had issued the same choice to you after he left? Even though she didn’t and you were holding off on communicating with her for a while, you didn’t want him to think that you were giving up on a relationship with your mom because of him.

You weren’t completely shutting her out of your life, but at the current moment, you just couldn’t see how you would ever trust her again. The relationship you had with her would never be the same, and fault solely rested on her part.

You couldn’t imagine how awful this whole thing must’ve been for him. He sacrificed being with you and the way others looked at him. Even when he gave you the supposed reason he’d broken up with you, he still protected her. You wanted to be so angry at him for doing that, but it was no fairer than the order he’d received from your mom.

Ruben had never changed. He remained the person you knew that put the wellbeing of those he loved often above his own, the person who shielded them from pain - even if it meant inflicting some and becoming the one they hated. It was all so unfair to him and you refused to spend a second longer without letting him know that.

“Can I come over?” You asked after he picked up on the first ring.

“Yeah.” His voice was rough.

As soon as you crossed his threshold, you launched yourself at him and hugged him tight. He was stunned at first, but your embrace was returned with the same magnitude. You buried your face deep into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Your tone was muted.

“Don’t apologize.” Ruben stroked your hair. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I-“

You shushed him. His response was expected, you knew that he was going to tell you not to apologize and that it wasn’t your fault but his. There was nothing he could’ve done about the situation, you didn’t blame him.

“I’m saying that because you deserve to hear it.” You looked into his eyes. “No one should have to be put through that and carry the burden of it for so long.”

Ruben didn’t fight you on that because you both know that you were right. He placed his chin on top of your head again and held you for a moment longer before he pulled you to sit down with him.

“So, you know everything?” His index finger drew circles on your knee.

You nodded, “I do.”

“Is there anything else you want to ask me?” Ruben left the door open.

A lot had actually crossed your mind while you were left reeling from the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the answers to the things you needed to hear most. There was one thing though.

“What changed?” You bit your lip. “Why did you try to get me back now and not before then?”

The message he’d sent you asking if your number was still the same could’ve came a year, or two, maybe even three ago. You were curious as to what made him want to throw caution to the wind after all this time.

“I tried holding on to the promise I’d made…even when it felt like I was suffocating. It was easy, sometimes, because I justified going along with it through telling myself that I’d chosen the lesser of two evils.” Ruben expressed. “When I moved here, the distance made things somewhat bearable - knowing that there was no chance I’d run into you.”

“Until you nearly did.” A grin flashed across your face as you recalled that rainy evening.

“It all came flooding back to me then.” He smiled too. “Everything that you were to me, everything that you were supposed to be. I felt like I would go mad if I kept ignoring what you meant and still mean to me. I had to at least try.”

If this was a movie, you’d think fate was behind your reunion. Even in reality that was kind of hard to deny. What were the chances that he would see you randomly on the street, or be a part of your first project in some way? Whatever was in charge pulling the strings behind the scenes was more determined than either of you to bring you both here today.

“I’ve got to say, that was a massive gamble on your part.” You cupped his cheek.

Timing was everything. When you thought about it, had he reached out to you via message prior to you seeing him in person, you didn’t think you’d receive it well. The cards had to be played very specifically for you to end up at this moment.

“Not to me. I told you, I loved you then and I never stopped.” Ruben stroked your ear. “I love you, Y/N.”

After everything that you’d been through together, hearing him say those words impacted you on a completely different level. They’d always meant so much, but now they contained it all - the entirety of your shared history. Him choosing you from the very first day you’d met, doing the same even when it meant breaking your heart and again as he fought to get you back.

Your brows met, eyes welling as you told him, “I love you too.”

The way he kissed you struck in a whole new way as well. It was adoration unobstructed and unrestrained. His lips moving over and between yours exhibited just how free he felt with the burden of a long kept secret no longer weighing him down.

Every touch was completed with the utmost undertaking. Ruben’s hand splayed over your thighs and stomach, flattening, digging into your skin. Desperate not to miss a single inch. He removed his shirt from your frame and lied you down.

You willed your heavy eyes to stay focused on him, your fingers disappearing into his thick hair. So beautiful, he kissed your navel. So perfect, his teeth grazed your hip bone. All mine, hips lips closed around the skin of your inner thigh.

What came next left the task of keeping him in your sights impossible. Your hand pressed into the cushion, back arching as you writhed beneath his skillful mouth that claimed your cunt. He held you sturdily, one hand caressing your lower back and the other pressing down on your abdomen.

It didn’t take much for you to come undone for him. He knew every direction and angle to take with his tongue to leave you drifting away. Like the anchor he was, Ruben didn’t let you float off too far.

His body molded to yours, heat becoming your own. You always found yourself wanting him endlessly, but that compulsion was stronger than ever. Still, you forced that hunger to subside for as long as possible to indulge in all that he was.

You traced his brow with your thumb and let your finger trail down until it met his lips. The curve of them were reverently memorized to the point where you were certain that you could recreate their image in clay with uncanny accuracy.

Ruben slid a hand between your legs to make your mouth fall open with a moan. It was what he wanted, to have your tongue accessible to his. They moved in tandem that built with intensity the more you shook and whined under his digits circling your clit.

His forehead pressed to yours as he looked down the narrow gap between your bodies. You followed suit and swallowed deeply at the sight. He had you glistening, swollen with readiness while his cock twitched achingly.

When he moved to touch it, your wrist caught him. Let me, you breathed. Your fingers wrapped around his thick, firm shaft and tugged upwards. His drawn out groan floated into your mouth, a slight hiss sucking it back as you swiped your thumb over the opening in his sensitive tip.

You were losing against yourself again. Just as you could no longer force your eyes to remain open, you could no longer hold back the need to have him inside you. Your hips angled, legs spreading even wider for his body to rest flush against yours.

As soon as you’d lined him up with your entrance, his hips pressed forward. You curled one arm around his shoulder and cupped the back of his head with the next. No adjustment was necessary, you ground into him eagerly . A call that was instantly answered.

Ruben thrusted into you deep, testing his limits. When he found that there was none - your legs locking around his waist, eyes rolling back and neck baring itself to him - he withdrew until almost completely out of you and did it again. And again. And again.

Don’t stop.

You like that?

Yes, please, more…

He gave it to you just as you wished. Long, hard, unrelenting strokes that breached your cervix. Tides were moving in quickly, threatening to whisk you away for a blinding moment. You were determined to take as much as you could before they could do so.

Your legs dropped, feet digging into the sofa. You used them for momentum to bring your hips to meet his drives, cunt consuming his cock in its entirety. The point you craved to reached had finally been met - where the pleasure was so overbearing that your mind began playing tricks on you to make you believe it was a fantasy.

But you knew it was real. Even as you succumbed to the waves that dragged you under, you knew you hadn’t imagined it. The cries that ripped their way from your throat and his praises told you so. Ruben’s face buried deep into your neck and his cock twitching as it filled you let you know that you’d climbed that impossible mountain.

In the stillness that followed, you begged him to stay. Your foot ran down the back of his muscled calf and your hands massaged his back while he caged you in his strong arms. For once, there were no afterthoughts.

You didn’t catch your mind wandering off to unknowns and what ifs. A sense of peace shrouded you just like his body was. Whatever tomorrow or the distant future brought no longer filled you with worry or fear. No matter what came along, you were at ease.

All you focused on was what was going on right now. Ruben’s chest rising and falling at a steady pace that matched your own, his hips still joined to yours, the feeling of his lips forming a smile against your cheek.

That was everything you needed.

[ohnogodpls]

The way you draw neuvillette and Wriothesley has me giggling and kicking my feet, they’re such little guys they make my soul start doing ribbon dances.

I do also have a question, 👀, you mentioned you mainly draw neuvi from head cannons, are there any you don’t draw but enjoy a lot just in your mind?

Hola :3 thank you for the kind words and I am happy to see you like my little guys doing their little guys things

I let this sit for some days to think about headcanons, since I can't think of many. I mostly just get scenarios into my head at like 1am, write them down and doodle them in the evening as a relaxation so it's not like a very thought through thing. But I managed to write down some.

Appearance wise:

First of all, I sort of completely disregard canon details. It's not because I don't like them, but because I draw quick, have no patience, and after drawing a character onec or twice I get their general idea into my head and from there on only draw them from memory. I find it helpful since it is not only quick and comfortable, but allows my sketchy drawings to avoid overcluttering with details. As long as the general shape and colour palette are close to the original - I am happy. Second, I like the idea of some draconic features on Neuv. Sharp teeth, longer sharper tongue, eye pupil delation when he is happy or excited to see something (same for zhongli) and I think it would be cute if his horns would glow when he is pleased, happy or at peace. That's why if you sleep next to him and can't fall asleep because of the light - shh don't wake him up - he is having a sweet dream. Third: he likes to dress up. I need to think of some outfits I could draw him in. In game he often points out that he stands out and causes confusion when he walks around, his status and looks intimidate people into thinking he is there on official business by default. That's why I think over the centuries he acquired an interest in fashion and has a lot of outfits he puts on for more casual outings in that little free time he has.

Personality wise I can't say much. I am like always scared of going too ooc, because I genuinely love the way he is presented in canon, so all I do is more of an addition to it rather than substitute... But I think he would like plants. He would feed them the finest water and enjoy watching them bloom. Plus, Sumeru is right there so perhaps he finds himself fascinated by plants growing there and has a few saplings.

And on a slightly NSFW note: wriolette in my head are switches. I always tag it with wriolette only but I also never draw explicit stuff, but I think they love each other in ways where there is no dynamic of one overpowering another: they tend to each other's comfort and pleasure and happiness in equal matter.

Yeah I don't have much but hopefully this was a nice (slightly long) read. o7 thank you for the question, it was fun to think about

[reiwanwan]

How peaky men fart ‼️

So….today we will be discussing the different ways that I personally think these peaky men fart, maybe I will make this a series like “Unhinged peaky blinder headcanons” And if you have your own unhinged headcanons that you want do feel free to ask! my request are very much open

Tommy 🤍

- most people are convinced this man doesn’t fart, but it’s a natural human function so of course even tommy shelby needs to let one out

- Dead serious expression and completely unfazed

- His farts have no sound and they dont even stink so no one even knows if he farted

- He also has pretty privilege and he knows that so he uses it to his full advantage

- Because of that he has the ability to fart loudly and no one would even bother to think it was him because pretty people dont fart

- In the scenario where if he let one out silently and it did stink he would probably just light a cigarette afterwards to cover up the smell

Arthur 🧡

- Loud and unapologetic

- Disrespectful.

- Absolutely no consideration for the people around him

- He would let it rip and laugh and say that it was the “sound of victory”

- He farts the loudest and is very proud of the volume of it

- He wont fart around ladies though

-Buuut if you were a guy, I’m sorry but you are going to be his victim

-He is kind enough though to let you know if he’s going to fart

John 🩵

- Now this one does NOT let you know when he is going to fart

- Always blames it on someone else

- Has the WETTEST farts and you’re always having to ask him to check his boxers because you are so sure he shit himself

- He does the classic “pull my finger” joke with his kids

- If you were laying down next to this man i’m sorry but you are getting dutch ovened and you will suffocate

- After he lets you out he apologises and says “must be the cabbages you made earlier”

Alfie 🤎

- Another loud farter here, second to arthur

- Also lets you know when he’s going to fart

- You guys could be walking together and he will stop you, “Hold on treacle…” and then proceed to rip ass.

- Will continue holding your hand as he farts

-If you seem embarrassed he will turn it into a whole monologue when he’s done and when you guys continue walking

- Gives long-winded explanations about how it is “A normal human bodily function”

- “you see love…holding it in wouldn’t be healthy because you see right…it’s a sign of a proper, working digestive system, its how god meant it to be”

Michael 💙

- Oh boy please don’t ever call him out he will get defensive and his ego will be CRUSHED

- Really feels like farting is emasculating and will insist on holding it in till he gets home to let it out

- Polly can always tell when he needs to fart for some reason and will tell her stubborn son that he is allowed to fart

- But in the case where he desperately needs to fart, he will excuse himself and go outside

- And boy does he let that one go wild because he’s pretty sure that fart cured all his stomach problems

- His farts doesn’t smell too idk why I just feel like he wouldn’t have stinky farts

Finn 💛

- Everyone pushes the blame onto him if they fart

- Especially arthur

-John would blame it on finn if he was sitting next to girl that he fancied. “Ughhh finn you nasty bastard…letting one out next to a lass?”

-Tommy would fart and then blame it on finn if someone smelt his own silent fart and everyone around will he quick to believe him

-Poor Finn

-If he farts he will be very embarrassed

-but understands its normal so he would try not to make a big deal out of it and man it out lol

-If people do start laughing at him though, he will join and laugh along just to save face even if it did actually hurt his feelings just a wee bit

That is all lovely human beings please do let me know what you guys think of this. The reason for writing this purely because I was super bored and my imagination goes wild and also because I thought that it would be completely hilarious lmao xx