#and if he says something again i'm blowing myself up in front of everyone i think

[icedille]

me in the bus going to an event i really don't want to go to while sick and on my period, picturing my body dead in a ditch to cope with the current horrors of being alive

[wyniepooh]

aaron

hotch doesn't really like when fellow members of the team calls him by his first name. for you, however, maybe he can make an exception.

traumatized!hotch core, mentions of stabbing and TW: foyet 😔. The team investigates a case that reminds hotch of f*yet, he is not well and reader sees right through him. bau!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff that turns into something a lil more towards the end slightly bc it’s hotch so i can’t help myself .

hotch preferred when everyone called him by his last name. he never explicitly said it, but it was an unspoken rule of sorts. whether it was hotchner, hotch, or even whatever nickname penelope often came up with, he didn’t mind. as long as it wasn’t aaron.

'aaron' felt too personal to use with his co-workers. too intimate. as much as you guys were like a family, hearing aaron come out of spencer’s mouth would be as strange as a quiet crime scene.

and hell, was this crime scene hectic. the aftermath of a negotiation involving drawn weapons was always hazy— body overfilled with adrenaline and running on approximately three hours of sleep. all the law enforcement agents you could think of was present, interviewing people, collecting samples. all the lights and voices didn't help with the anxiety. but this scenario in particular had everyone scrambling to collect their thoughts.

hotch, especially. the mo of the unsub was eerily similar to that of foyet— the intricate stabbing that ensured the victim suffered long and hard but was still conscious enough to feel every inch of the next stab. the whole team was aware of the elephant stealing all the oxygen in the room, but no one really knew what to say or do given hotch’s constant stern affirmation that he was fine.

and so the whole team walked into the local police department in silence, hotch leading as the rest of you trailed behind. tired of the crickets practically sounding, you cleared your throat and exclaimed,

“so, does anyone want to get some food? i saw an authentic taco sta-“

your words trailed off as your eyes followed the figure in front of you, who was walking away haggardly towards the washrooms. you turned back towards your teammates, all of them shrugging and letting out a sigh. eventually, they all walked away with a promise to fulfill your hungry request and disappeared to their work stations.

you stood outside the bathrooms for at least five minutes, taking a step forward, then back. forward, then back. finally, you shook your head quickly, straightened your shoulders, and pushed the door into the room.

"h-hey! this is the men's-"

you didn't bother to acknowledge the young police officer by the urinal who was frantically pulling up his pants. you simply lifted an extended arm and nodded to silence him. you walked to the front of the stall where you spotted hotch's perfectly polished shoes, and stopped. once the guy left, you knocked on the door.

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

silence. you began tapping your foot and crossed your arms, blowing out a rush of air. exasperated, you repeated again, “hotchner. open up. please.”

a click enabled you to release a breath of relief, the door opening to reveal hotch sitting on the closed toilet, head looking down with his hands crossed in between his legs.

“listen… i know you said you’re fine and that you're good to keep going, but we both know that’s bullshit. we know you. too well, even. we can tell that you're struggling, whether you like it or not. it’s obvious this case has brought up…”

your voice progressively got more silent as you noticed the response you got. silence. it wasn’t until you stopped talking did you realize his rapidly rising shoulders for each breath he took, and the way he fidgeted with his hands to hide the shaking. you immediately knelt down to his level, putting both hands on his shoulder.

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i’ve been dismissive the whole day. i want to say it’s simply because i didn’t sleep last night, or the night before that, and that is part of it but… the reason i haven’t been able to sleep is because of the case. i thought the therapy was enough, i thought it would be fine once i was distracted with work,” he sighed, “i know i’ve made you all uncomfortable and i don’t know what to do about it. i wish i-“

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

you chuckled, “if you say sorry one more time, i’m going to really make you sorry.”

it took a second for aaron to muster out a laugh as well, but eventually he did, and the sound put a genuine smile on your face.

still kneeling, your hand came up to softly caress his jaw. “don’t apologize for how you’re feeling, aaron. i’ll admit that the atmosphere is a little more tense than usual, but let's be honest here," you dropped your hand from his face, “we're all tense. we're profilers, for gods sake. what are we but tense?"

aaron gave a nod of approval, his lip curving into a small smile.

"and also, don't feel obligated to talk to us. everyone has their own coping methods. we're just reminding you that if you do need a person to talk to... we're here to lend an ear. and of course, we hope you remember that it's more than okay to take a break or admit you're uncomfortable. we get it. we won’t judge.”

you feigned a thinking face, “well, rossi might judge a little, but at least we won’t!”

he snickered and nodded again at your words, taking a deep breath. his hands had stopped shaking and his breaths seem to be more regulated. you smiled at him one last time before the both of you began to stand up.

as aaron straightened himself, he realized something. he didn't like the others calling him by his first name, but there was something different about the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue. in fact, he would do anything to hear you say 'aaron' again.

before you could both exit, the stall door behind you suddenly closed. a surprised ‘oh’ left your lips, and aaron looked equally as confused. the inclosed space pushed you closer to him, and just for a second, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. you expected him to open the door like a gentlemen or apologize for the close proximity, but nothing ever came. you opened your mouth to say something, but all you could breathe was a quiet whisper of his name before he crashed his lips onto yours.

-

a/n: the washroom stall door was truly a paid actor.

[genshxn]

✤ 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜: 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

mild(?) spoilers for 3.2 archon quest (but probably everyone knows it by now let's be honest)

written pre-3.3

author drivel. what's up, i've got covid and a head full of cotton and I'm making it your problem too, so here's some unsolicited 'fluffy' scaramouche word vomit. as such, please excuse any egregious spelling/grammar mistakes or consistency errors because lord knows i'm gonna fuck something up with my negative braincells rn.

sorry about the lack of consistency with scaramouche's name. there are so many bloody things you can call that lil piece of shit

synopsis. under kusanali's order, you're in charge of scaramouche's domestication. for now, you've fallen sick with a tenacious cold, and as part of his 'training', scaramouche has to look after you.

contents. y/n has a cold (and the shivers), scaramouche being scaramouche, slight crack, fluff, and scaramouche screaming.

w.c. 2.2k

HEY HEY YOU CAN READ PART 2 HERE

You let out a prolonged, melodramatic groan. Colds suck. You were piled under blanket after blanket, nestled in amongst a halo of pillows, banished to your quarters near the Sanctuary of Surasthana. Despite being half buried alive, you were still trying your best not to shiver. Your fever has rotated to its chills period, and nothing was helping.

You sigh. The low-lit room and radio silence weren't helping your awful feeling. Curse human fragility and its ability to fall victim to microscopic beings not even really considered "alive".

"Augh, I feel like shit..."

The door slams open. "You look like shit." In walks Scaramouche—the man of many names—with a tray of food in hand and blankets strung over his slender shoulders like an oversized, pompous collar. Same as ever, he speaks with a sharp tongue. It's not so much sarcasm aimed at you rather than it simply being the puppet's nature.

"Yeah, thanks Bowlcut." You cough back in reply.

"How many times have I told you to stop calling me that?" He huffs, gently setting down the tray on a small table next to you, contrary to his grouchy demeanour. Next, he sheds himself of the blankets, sticking them at the foot of your bed.

"As many times as I've told you to not announce your arrival with 'n insult aimed a' me." You grunt out, voice stuffy and croaky from your sinuses feeling like they're about to blow up. "Try your opening line again, Bowlcut."

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he belligerently changes his greeting. "I brought your food." He dramatically gestures to the table beside you, sarcastically showing off the dishes with the added pizzazz of some jazz hands.

"Much better." You pathetically sit up, cascades of green blankets falling off your form. The movement makes your wonky head spin slightly.

"If you don't hurry up and eat it, I'm gonna eat it myself." He pulls a chair up from behind him and sticks himself down on it, leaning back with one leg crossed on top of the other. "It smells good." He looks between you and the food expectantly.

"I'd love to be able to smell it, but unfortunately it feels like a slime's taken refuge in my sinuses right now." You shuffle over to the edge of the bed to get closer, still wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket. You shudder at the loss of warmth. "Thanks for bringing my food, Scaramouche."

To your surprise, you're met with silence from him. Normally he has some sort of surly quip to fire back at anything you say, but not this time it seems. "...What're you gawking at?" He notices your blatant staring.

"You feeling alright? You're unusually quiet."

"I should be the one asking you that question." His half-assed sarcastic tone betrays his actual message with that line. He stares at some point on the floor in front of him, unable to meet your gaze. "I-it's— um... just..."

"Just what?" You blink, tilting your head slightly.

"Can you not call me that?" His voice is much quieter than normal. He sounds almost... defeated. A very uncharacteristic tone for someone who refuses to accept defeat (despite it being the only thing he's been faced with in recent times).

"You mean Sca—"

"Did you not hear what I just said?" He quickly cuts you off.

"Ah, sorry." You look down at the same spot on the floor for a moment. "What would you like to be called then?"

He doesn't answer, still looking downcast.

"I think I've heard you use Wanderer once. I could call you that."

"What? Don't call me that. I just said that because I couldn't think of anything to say to some rando, like... one time!" His expression is right back to his usual self: a look of confused contempt.

"What about your other name, Kunikuzushi? I could also call you a shortened version, like... Niku?"

"Do not call me that. Niku means 'meat'. Of all things, you picked out that?" He throws his arms up in response. "Kunikuzushi or whatever works, I guess... Just don't call me Scaramouche. Or Bowlcut. OR NIKU." Upon the final word, he crosses his arms over himself like a child having a tantrum. "Now eat your food or I'm gonna take the halva for myself and feed you the... other thing... myself."

"Alright, alright." You turn to look down at the food. As you've had with your past meals, there was a dessert side of Halvamazd, made specially by Nahida for you, but curiously, the main dish itself was different than the usual Sumeran cuisine. It looks like some sort of Inazuman dish that you're not sure you've ever seen before. You stare at it curiously, and he notices.

"What, do you not like it?" Kunikuzushi frowns, staring intently at your face. His voice is unexpectedly intense.

"Oh, nothing like that, I just wasn't expecting an Inazuman dinner today." You wave your hands around slightly beneath the blanket.

"I-if you wanna blame anyone, blame the Radish," he says, sitting back, crossing his arms again. "It was her idea..." He trails off suspiciously, looking off to the side.

With that reaction? "Yeah right."

"It was!" He exclaims defensively. "Gods, are you sure you're sick? You're still as annoying as ever."

"Either way, it looks really good. What is it?"

At your words, Kunikuzushi calms down with a sigh. "It's my take on chazuke. Rice with some tea poured on top, plus some toppings. I made it, so of course it's going to be delicious." He declares confidently, puffing his flat chest.

"You made it for me?"

He stops in his tracks, lavender eyes going wide once he realizes he just blew his nonexistent cover. He sputters out some unintelligible nonsense before ultimately slumping down and crossing his arms grumpily for the third time. "Yes. Yes, I did. There, are you happy? I made it for you and it was my idea."

"Thank you very much, Ku. It looks delicious." You smile warmly at him. He looks at you with wide eyes, expression almost unreadable. His mouth parts, maybe to say something in response, but nothing comes out.

You unsheathe your hands from the blanket and begin to eat the dish. While your senses of smell and taste have been dampened by the cold, you can still taste the softly bitter and sweet flavours of the dish dancing over your tongue. It's the perfect temperature, to boot. Hot, but still cool enough to not burn your already shredded throat. Because your appetite isn't quite what it normally is, the light dish hits just right. The whole time, Kunikuzushi carefully—almost nervously—watches you wolf down the dish.

Once you finish it, you place the bowl and utensils back on the tray. "That was so good. Exactly what I needed." You wrap the blanket back around yourself, pulling it tighter to try and preserve your limited warmth. "You'll have to make it for me again when I'm better so I can really appreciate the taste."

"...Sure." He says shortly. His response isn't curt like normal, but just... awkward. You sit there awkwardly as well, trying to gather up all your layers of blankets again to reassemble your blanket cocoon. You're putting in a bit too much effort to try and not shiver. Kunikuzushi watches you for a minute, and then wordlessly moves to pick up the extra blankets he brought from the end of the bed.

"Oh, than—" Instead of simply handing them to you like you thought he would, he layers you in them, wrapping them around you himself. He kneels on the bed, torso close to your head. As he piles on blanket after blanket, his hands brush all over your shoulders. He's so close that you can feel a faint warmth radiating off him. An idea cha cha slides into your head.

"You look all... not even pathetic, just sad when you're sick and cold."

You've been around the grumpy puppet long enough to know that what he's really saying is that he doesn't like seeing you look miserable. Once you're suitably wrapped, he places one final blanket on top, draping it over the top of your head like a hooded cloak or veil. He takes a step back to examine his blanket-wrapping handiwork. Suitably happy with it, he decides to return back to his chair. But before he can get too far, you manage to grab his slender wrist, earning a shocked sputter from him.

"The blankets aren't enough. I'm still cold."

"What?! What else could you possibly need to—"

"You can't get sick, right?"

"No, not from colds or viruses or whatever, hence why I'm he—wait, what're yo—" Kunikuzushi squints at you suspiciously, aware of sinister things lingering in the air.

"You're warm. Be my heater for a bit."

"H-has your fever turned you delusional?!"

"Probably." You try to suppress a shiver unsuccessfully. "But c'mon, you said that you wouldn't get sick. Please?" You look at him expectantly,

Kunikuzushi looks at you with all sorts of conflicting feelings flitting across his twitching, reddening face, bubbling up until he finally concedes with a massive sigh. "F-fine." He puffs, eyes completely avoiding your gaze. He's too embarrassed to look anywhere near you. "At least let me do something first..." He sits on the edge of the bed and sheds his loose-sitting kimono and robes, leaving them folded neatly on the edge. Now he's in just that semi-transparent undershirt and regular shorts.

You stare at him with slightly raised eyebrows.

"What? I don't wanna overheat." He frowns, turning away from your gaze slightly. "If you're really going to... c-cling to me or whatever, lose at least two of the blankets."

"But 'm cold."

"That's your brain gaslighting you into thinking you're cold. Your 'shivers' will dissipate once I'm under there with you. If you overheat, your brain will become even more fried, and then you'll be completely useless."

Now it's your turn to let out a massive sigh with a reluctant "Fiiiiine." The outer two layers of your blanket cocoon come off, discarded to the floor next to you. You shuffle back to your original position, lying under the covers, wrapped in blankets. Kunikuzushi shuffles up next to you, hesitates for a second and then pulls the new outer blanket up a little to sit it just on top of your head. That was the second time he did that.

"What's the point of that?"

"What?"

"Move the blanket on top of my head?"

"...Um. I... do it sometimes. I like the feeling of it. I don't know, I thought you might—"

Instead, you cut him off by reaching out and putting part of the blanket on top of his head as well. He immediately goes quiet with wide eyes.

"Come on heater, get under the blankets. You talk a lot."

He makes a miffed grunt and shuffles under the covers, finding his way through all the blankets until he was right against you. You rotate your body to face him for optimal surface area coverage and close your eyes with a content exhale.

The two of you remain like this for a while, you lying next to the slightly stiff but warm Kunikuzushi. He doesn't move much and is completely silent aside from the very faint sound of his gentle breath. (does he breathe? idk lol) He must have fallen asleep at some point, because he seems to loosen up a little. You smile faintly at the thought, but it's quickly wiped from your face and replaced with a confused frown because he turns to face you and places his chin on top of your head. You can feel his soft breath on top of your head. Your eyes are as wide as saucers, staring right at the view in front of you—his neck. But oh, he's not done. Next, he pulls you slightly closer to him and then takes your hand in his own and gently laces your fingers with his. Your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

Next, he begins to mutter to himself. There's absolutely no way he's asleep—he must think you're asleep.

"Damnit... Fuck you, (Y/N)..."

You have to try SO hard to remain silent and not get offended and hit him with 'Bowlcut', but the dizzying polarity between his actions and his words is enough to keep you silent for now.

"Making me feel all this shit... Not even the Radish really knows what these feelings are."

You blink, eyes wide. You feel a cough coming on. This is not good. Your cover's gonna be blown.

"You're gonna be the end of me. Toying with my already shattered heart like I'm your plaything... Your smile, now calling me Ku... all these promises and things you do... I want to hate you, but I can't."

You can't hold it in anymore. You quickly push off his chest and jerk your head in the opposite direction so you don't have a coughing fit right on his chest. When you finally finish and turn back around, you're faced with a red-faced Kunikuzushi, looking absolutely mortified.

"YOU WERE AWAKE THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME?!"

You bit your lips together awkwardly.

"AND YOU HEARD IT ALL?!"

You cough again. "Yep."

Instead of having a response that could somehow qualify as normal, his stare simply goes blank for a second until he proceeds to konk out, eyes closing and head flopping down onto the pillow.

He short-circuited.

[amhrosina]

Afterglow (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Masterlist // Join My Taglist

a/n: another taylor swift song fic lmfao i just cannot help myself, this one is so angsty i almost felt bad for Matt just writing it (someone pls give that man a hug, he NEEDS one) also i feel so bad about not posting that i didnt even send this one to my beta reader i just posted it and hoped for the best lmfao

Summary: Matt and Reader have an argument that feels like it might be relationship-ending after Matt's hectic lifestyle as Daredevil catches up with him.

warnings: ANGST BRO SO MUCH ANGST, matty really just deserves the world, angry matt at the beginning, soft matt and foggy convo, matt doesn't know how to accept love, super soft matt at the end, some religious imagery i guess, happy ending

-

I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue

Put you in jail for something you didn’t do

I pinned your hands behind your back, oh

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there’s no us

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It's on your face, and I'm to blame, I need to say

The door slammed behind Matt in a fitful rage, and he was so pissed off, so intense in his anger that he wanted to turn around and slam it again, just to lash out a second time. It was so unlike him to be this way, so unlike him to allow the festering wound that was his soul show itself so plainly, but it had been a long night, long year, long life and he was fucking tired.

And you. You. You. You. You’d been caught in the crossfire. 

“Fuck.” Matt breathed, already regretting the argument that he’d started simply because he hadn’t been able to reel the Devil back in after a long night. The tight leash he held on the part of him that he hated, the part of him that you’d never seen because he’d hidden it so deep inside himself every night, was a ghost in his hands. The line between Matthew the person and Daredevil the vigilante had been blurring for months, but tonight was the first time he’d let it slip through the careful facade he’d been constructing around himself. He was a shattered window, ready to break at the slightest bit of pressure. 

The cold sliced into Matt’s skin as he stepped through the doorway at the front of his building, a sobering chill of wind that triggered the memory of your eyes welling with tears. He’d been relentless in his anger, and what for? Because he had a bad night? Because he couldn’t save everyone, and somehow that was your fault? 

Asshole is the word you’re looking for, Matthew.

Matt groaned and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Foggy’s number before he could talk himself out of it.

“It’s three in the morning, Matt.” Foggy said by way of greeting, voice still heavy with sleep. “You’re not somewhere dying are you?”

“Only metaphorically.” Matt replied, shuffling his feet. He lowered himself to sit on the stairs beneath him, huffing as his body settled against the concrete. The metal of the railing dug into his temple as he rested his head against it, an uncomfortable reminder that the only person to blame for this was himself.

“You okay?” Foggy’s tone had shifted from a sleepy annoyance to somewhat concerned. 

Matt closed his eyes. He didn’t deserve the love he received from his friends.

“I’m-” He started, but cut himself off when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Was he okay? No, he didn’t think so. 

“You’re kinda freaking me out here, man.”

“I fucked up, Foggy.” He deflated as he admitted it.

“With her?” Foggy pressed.

“With her. With everything.” Matt shrugged, blinking away the tears burning the back of his eyes. Your sudden return to his thoughts felt like whiplash, and he couldn’t catch his breath. “She deserves better than me.”

“Matt,” Foggy chided, and Matt could tell he was shaking his head, “Don’t say that. She loves you.” 

“Maybe not anymore.” Matt knew how ridiculous and juvenile he sounded, but the Matthew-Murdock-party-of-one pity party was in full effect, and he was leaning into the sad corner of his being so aggressively he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

“She loves you.” Foggy repeated. “I don’t think anything could change that. What happened?”

“I had a bad night and yelled at her. It was stupid and I feel like an ass-”

“An asshole.” Foggy finished, and Matt couldn’t stop the chuckle that followed this observation. “Listen, did you tell her any of this?”

“Not yet.” The longer Matt sat, the more he hated himself for leaving. The words he had shouted echoed in his mind. “She should just leave. I’m never going to be able to give her what she deserves.”

“What about what you deserve, Matt?” Foggy asked, heated in the defense of his very best friend, “You deserve to be loved, too.”

Matt sat with Foggy’s statement for a second, letting the love wash over him for the briefest moment. Is this what it’s like for the kind of people who can easily accept the love of others? His body felt warm and fuzzy, an unfamiliar but comforting sensation that had him rubbing the heel of his hand across his chest.

“I should go apologize and hope to God she’ll take me back.” Matt sighed.

“She will, Matt.” Foggy assured him. “She will.”

Matt returned the phone to his pocket and turned, heading back into the place that held his entire aching heart.

It's so excruciating to see you low

Just wanna lift you up and not let you go

This ultraviolet morning light below

Tells me this love is worth the fight, oh

I lived like an island, punished you with silence

Went off like sirens, just crying

Why'd I have to break what I love so much?

It’s on your face, don't walk away, I need to say

Hey, it's all me, in my head

I'm the one who burned us down

But it's not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

When Matt reentered the apartment, it had only been twenty minutes since he’d stormed out, but it had felt like hours. You were in the same place that he’d left you - curled up in a sitting position on the sofa - except now your cheeks were coated with salty tears that permeated the air around you. Matt tasted them on his tongue the second he opened the door, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest as he realized just how bad the situation was. You were so deep in thought, cycling through the words Matt had spat at you, that you hadn’t noticed his arrival.

“Petal?” Matt called softly, alerting you to his presence in the room. You startled, turning to look in his direction. The silence before you responded was deafening and anxiety inducing, something Matt had never handled well. He wrung his hands together and took a step closer to you. Finally, you spoke.

“You came back.”

Not a question, but not really a statement either. A simple observation that left Matt stumbling over his words. 

“I uh…never really left. I was just downstairs.” He scratched the back of his neck. “On the steps out front. I didn’t go far.”

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

Matt’s lip wobbled as he inhaled sharply and asked, “Do you want me to go?”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to that question. He listened to your answer anyway. He would listen to any words you had to offer, even if they were words that might kill him.

“You said some terrible things, Matt.” You sniffled, sighing heavily as another wave of tears coated your cheeks. “You said ‘If you can’t handle this, I don’t think we should be together anymore.’ And the funny thing is, I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be handling.”

“Petal, I-” Matt began, shaking his head.

“No, Matt.” Your voice had suddenly become very firm and very loud, all at once. Matt flinched. “I’m not finished.” You adjusted your body, leaning your head back against the sofa before continuing. “I don’t know who you are anymore. My Matty would never keep things from me or disappear for days at a time or yell at me. The man I fell in love with is missing, and I don’t know what to do to get him back.”

The hold Matt had on his tears was obliterated as you admitted your feelings to him. Warm tears fell down his face, every droplet an admission of guilt. You were right, of course. Matt hadn’t felt like himself in months, and instead of trying to get a grip on himself, he had been leaning into the suit every night, forcing his mind to focus on other things. He always took on the brunt of the pain in any situation - he’d been doing this his entire life - but he had not realized how much of that pain was being transferred to you every time he forgot himself.

“Baby, I’m- I can’t even say how sorry I am.” Matt sank to his knees in front of you, pleading. “You’re right about everything, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be good enough for you or come home to you after work like a normal boyfriend would and I’m sorry for the things I said. I never wanted to hurt you the way I did. I will never, ever, deserve your love.” He swallowed a sob as he admitted what he thought was the truest thing he’d ever said out loud. “Foggy told me I deserve love but I’ve thought and thought about it and I can’t imagine a world where your love will ever feel like anything but a gift to me.”

You sighed again, sniffling as you lifted your hand to cradle Matt’s wet cheek.

“I know I’m fucking it up. I’m sorry I can’t be more. This is all I have to offer, and I know it’s selfish to ask you to keep loving me but I can’t be without you. You’re all I have.”

“I don’t understand, Matty.” You shook your head, furrowing your brows.

“You’re the only thing that brings me home. And I don’t mean physically. You’re the only reason I can find my way back to myself. You remind me of the love the world is capable of. Not even Foggy can do that for me the way that you do. Can’t you see that you’re it for me? Without you, I am just a man walking hand in hand with the Devil. There is no point without you.”

“Matty.” You sighed, caressing his cheekbones as tears cascaded down his face. 

Matt wasn’t sure what he wanted you to say. That he did deserve love, or maybe that you weren’t going to leave him after tonight was over, or maybe anything besides ‘I don’t love you anymore’. 

“Don’t leave me.” He begged, barely above a whisper, so tired of the war raging in his mind. If there was anything he was capable of doing tonight, it was pleading with you for this. Beyond that, he was useless. “Don’t leave.”

“Will you lay with me?” You asked, and Matt nearly collapsed into your hold. It was not what he was expecting, but he would take it. The inevitable self-hatred and doubt about this moment echoed in the back of his mind, but he was ignoring it for once. All he wanted to do was lay with you, so that’s exactly what he did.

Tell me that you're still mine

Tell me that we'll be just fine

Even when I lose my mind

I need to say

Tell me that it's not my fault

Tell me that I'm all you want

Even when I break your heart

I need to say

I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you (Ooh)

I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you (Ooh)

I need to say, hey, it's all me, just don't go

Meet me in the afterglow

Matt was on the verge of tears again, lying next to you in the bed that you had shared with each other for so many nights. He was so afraid of losing this, losing you. He wasn’t entirely sure he would survive if you asked him to leave after this. He wasn’t entirely sure that mindset was healthy, either, but that didn’t stop him from contemplating it. He was here, and you were here, and if he was destined to live in this doubt forever, then at least he would die next to you.

Your tears had long dried up, but the ache deep inside you was palpable and overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do. The hand you had led him here with, the one that you still held, the only thing connecting your body to his was his safety blanket. This was what people called a safe space, he thought. For the first time in a long time, Matt began to silently pray.

He prayed for you, and he prayed for himself, and mostly, he prayed for love. He prayed that the night would last forever, so that he could lay next to you for the remainder of his life. He prayed for forgiveness, and begged for yours. He prayed for the strength it would take if you didn’t grant it to him. Because if you asked him to leave, he would. It would hurt and possibly - no, definitely - kill him, but he’d do it, because you deserved that, at least. The possibilities of the night were endless, and that was the scariest thing to Matt. Anything could happen.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, lightly squeezing his hand.

“I’m praying.” He murmured, squeezing your hand back.

“About what?”

“About you.” 

“Oh, Matty.” 

The smile on your face, the steady thump of your elevated heart rate, felt like a win. Comfortable silence overtook the room, and you were so still for so long that anyone else might’ve thought you had fallen asleep, but Matt knew better. You were thinking, contemplating every word that had been shouted, pleaded, and begged tonight. All the while, Matt prepared himself for the worst.

“The sun’s coming up.” You murmured.

“Yeah?” It was all he could muster. Everything hurt, and he never wanted this moment to end.

“Yeah.” You swept your fingertips over his cheeks, following the path of the sun as it draped itself across both of your bodies. 

Matt swallowed, opened his mouth to ask the dreaded question, and then closed it and swallowed again. The gentle caress of your fingers felt like a brand in his skin. Finally, in a thick voice he asked for the second time in a matter of hours, “Do you want me to go?”

“Oh, Matty.” You whispered, tears welling in your eyes, and Matt’s heart sank into the ground below him. He thought he could do this, but he couldn’t. He was just supposed to leave what you had built with him? After everything, he was just supposed to count his losses and move on? No fucking way. His breathing had picked up, and he was so focused on his pounding heart that he almost missed the rest of your sentence. “I never wanted you to go. I just wanted you to understand how lonely I’ve been without you. I’m upset with you, but I’ll always love you, and I’ll never be the one asking you to leave.”

Matt stopped breathing for a moment, soaking in the warm relief as it crashed through him. He didn’t have to go, and you loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

“Are you sure?” He forced himself to ask, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

You let out a small giggle and pressed your lips to his forehead before responding. “Of course I’m sure, Matty. But it has to change, okay? We can’t do this to each other again.”

Matt could hardly believe the words coming out of your mouth. He would do anything to keep you here, holding him, keeping him safe, loving him. Anything.

“I promise.” He murmured, grabbing at your face to pull it closer to his. “I love you.”

He pressed a million kisses into your face until you let out the melodic laugh that he felt he could get drunk on. He would do anything to hear that sound again, to be the one causing that sound. Anything.

-

Tag List:

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[fanficsformyfaves]

I Tolerate It, So Don't Blame Me

Loki Laufeyson x Fem Ex!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Hickeys, Marking Kink (R Receiving), Oral Sex (R Receiving), P in V Sex, Exhibitionism, Rough Sex, Body Worship (R Receiving), No Protection (This is fictional, you are not, WRAP IT UP) Mentions of Break Ups, Turbulent Relationship, Confrontations, Insecurities

PREFACE: You were not only the God of Mischief's ex and the mother of his child, you were also the love of his life. So, it should've come as no surprise to you when his new girlfriend showed up to your apartment building, angry after finding out he was still in love with you

A/N: Flashbacks In Italics!

Loki was recruited into the Avengers and Sylvie is his new girlfriend in this A/U!

Sylvie deserves better :,(

And yes, this is combining 2 Taylor Swift songs cause it goes so well…all too well

I had just put my son to bed, when his tired little voice asks me something.

"Mama, is daddy coming this weekend?"

I look up from tucking him in with surprise.

"Um, I'm not sure"

I was...or I thought I was. Loki and I were together for over a decade and had our son four years ago.

Our relationship wasn't perfect, but we made it work. In spite of the long nights that consisted of screaming matches and the other going to bed angry, we would eventually talk it out and get right back to normal. Was it easy? No, but we knew that we made each other better people. Nothing in life that's worth keeping was gonna be easy.

Our main issue was him not making enough time for me and our child. I understood splitting his time between working with the Avengers and going back and forth from Asgard would take up a lot of his days, but we always got through the rough patches together.

You miss a couple dinners and forget some errands, sure, I could forgive that...but the final straw was when he'd forgotten our son's birthday.

Long after the party was over and everyone had gone home, I still sat in the living room in tears, after having had to put my own crying child to bed.

"He forgot. He really forgot", I thought to myself.

Just then, I hear the front door open and in walks Loki, making his way towards me on the couch.

"Hi, darling", he kisses my cheek.

That's when he noticed the popped balloons and confetti scattered all across the floor.

"What did I miss?"

"What did you miss?", I repeated,

Standing up.

"Loki, do you know what day it is today?"

"Friday"

I close my eyes, sighing before wiping my eyes.

"October twenty-third"

He takes a moment to think, when the realization hits him.

"Shit", he whispers to himself,

"Yeah...shit"

"(Y/N)-"

"He was so excited to blow out the candles with his dad", my voice shakes.

"I know-"

"Do you?"

Not having anything else to say for himself, he simply muttered.

"I'm sorry"

"It's not me you should be apologizing to", I say,

About to walk off, when he takes my arm.

"I'll make it up to him-"

"You always say that, but you never stick to your word. Look, I'm tired of being second place to your job, we both are. Do you even remember the last time we had dinner together? Or even tucking him in for bed?"

I could see the tears beginning to pool in his eyes. I shake my head, before pulling my arm away from him.

"Time got away from me, the team-"

"I don't care about the team! I care about us! Our family!", I yell,

Catching him off guard.

"I've stood behind you on everything and this was the one thing that I needed you to show up for. I've put up with your shit for too fucking long and I can't do it anymore. All we do nowadays is fight and I can't tolerate being taken for granted over and over again. I won't"

"What are you saying?", he whispered,

"I'm saying I'm done", I shrugged.

His gaze softened and his shoulders dropped.

"(Y/N)-"

"You need to go", I sob,

"Please, don't do this. We can talk about it, we can work things out, I promise, I will do better-", he tries pulling me into an embrace,

Only to be pushed away.

"We tried and nothing's worked, even if we go to bed now, I'll still feel the same way in the morning-"

"I don't want to leave-", he says,

Wrapping his arms around me, as I kept trying to push him off.

"Loki, go"

"I can't"

"Please, go, I can't do this again"

"I can't!", he cried,

"GO-"

"I CAN'T!", he shouts,

Slowly falling to his knees, as he held onto my legs and hid his face in my stomach.

"I can't", he wept.

My hand goes over my mouth to muffle the sounds of my sobs. I eventually pull away from him and walked back towards our once shared bedroom. It was the hardest walk of my life. Knowing I was walking away from him.

"When I wake up", I say over my shoulder,

"Don't be here"

It's been almost a year since then and it still hurts to think about. It didn't help that our anniversary was coming up either.

I often fall back into wondering if I'd done the right thing. Did I? Would I ever know?

"But, I promise I'll ask"

"Does daddy not love me anymore?"

It shattered my heart to hear him say that.

"No! Baby", I say,

Softly cupping his cheek.

"Your father loves you so so much. It's just his job that keeps him busy"

He sticks his pinky out, making me chuckle. I intertwine mine around his, after wiping away a stray tear.

"Never think for one second that we don't love you"

Just as I placed a kiss atop my son's head, I hear someone yelling outside my apartment building.

"(Y/N)!"

I recognized that voice. It was Sylvie. What was she doing here in the middle of the night?

"Mama?"

"Shhh, go to bed, baby, I'll be right back", I shushed,

Leaving the apartment and locking the door behind me. The elevator takes me all the way down to the lobby and I made my way outside.

"Sylvie-"

"What did you tell him?!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid with me, what did you tell Loki?"

"Nothing! I haven't spoken to him for weeks!"

"Horse shit"

"I haven't!"

She sighs, holding her forehead.

"Why? What happened?"

She sniffles and using her sleeve to wipe away her tears.

"Sylvie, I know we aren't friends, but you can tell me"

She scoffs, looking back at me.

"You can", I reassured.

She shakes her head, taking a seat on the curb. I let out a deep exhale, before joining her.

It was tense. I could tell she was holding something back and it only added to the anxiety that was making my stomach turn. After a few deep breaths, she finally breaks the uncomfortable silence.

"He said your name in his sleep"

I'd never felt my heart drop so fast. My eyes widen, as I turn back to her.

"What?"

"Last night. I heard him", she nodded,

"Sylvie", I exhaled,

Shutting my eyes, whilst shaking my head.

"So either that means he's been sneaking behind my back with you or-"

"He hasn't, I swear"

"...Then what I'd been suspecting is true", she muttered her breath.

My eyebrows meet in confusion, wondering what she meant by that. She finally turns to meet my gaze and in the street lamp's glow, I could make out her defeated tired eyes looking back at me.

I knew that look. I had that look not too long ago, which meant what she had to say was nothing short of painful.

"He still loves you", she wept,

Causing me to shake my head.

"No-"

"Then why?", she shrugs.

How was I possibly meant to respond to that?

"You know...whenever he tells me that he loves me, I would be so overjoyed...but for some reason, in the back of mind, I never truly believed him", she confessed,

"And then I thought to myself 'Well, why would I? She was his first love and the mother of his child. How could I ever compete with that? She's beautiful and smart and strong'. Deep down, I always knew that what we had wasn't real, as I am still fighting the ghost of you that will forever live in his memories"

I was speechless. To hear her say all of this was gut-wrenching. She didn't deserve this and I knew that.

"I am so sorry"

"You have nothing to apologize for", she says,

Getting back on her feet, as I did the same.

"Sylvie, I assure you that whatever we had was over the moment we broke up"

"Maybe...but not for him", she smiled sadly,

Giving me a tight embrace, before walking away.

I couldn't just go to bed after that. I had to talk to Loki myself. Whatever he did to us was one thing, but Sylvie didn't deserve this. I went back up stairs to get my son, not bothering to get dressed and dropped him off at my parent's house on the way to the Avengers Tower.

I submitted my personalized key pass, which allowed me inside and took the elevator all the way up to Loki's quarters. I pushed past the double doors and find him standing at the floor to ceiling windows.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?", I spit,

Walking up to him.

"I'm assuming you heard", he says,

Without looking away from the city.

"Sylvie didn't deserve that. She loved you!"

I was met with nothing but silence. All I could do was sigh in frustration.

"Why?! Why did you have to ruin another good thing for yourself?! She was perfect-"

"But she wasn't you!", he snapped,

Turning to face me.

"You of all people should know that no matter what happens, I would always choose you"

I could feel the tears gather in my eyes.

"I tried to let go, but I couldn't", his voice goes quiet,

"Despite my best efforts and even while being with someone else, all I found myself doing was wishing it was you"

I shake my head, as a lone tear made its why down my cheek.

"You should've thought about that before you took me for granted"

He cups my face, resting his forehead against mine.

"That was my greatest mistake...and I will never forgive myself for it"

"Loki-"

I couldn't stop myself from growing weak at his touch.

"I love you. This has always been true"

"I never knew what I had until I'd lost it", he added,

"You hurt me...and you hurt our son", I wept,

"And for that, I am so sorry. I will never stop regretting the things I'd done to you both and if given the chance, I'd change before it was too late, but I am begging you now. I will never forsake your hearts again, please", he pleaded.

There were so many emotions coming at me from all directions. Anger, sadness, confusion...but also a sense of solace. Solace in knowing that he had finally recognized his mistakes.

"If you'll have me...I will never hurt you or our son ever again"

"How can I be sure you mean it this time?", I questioned.

In that moment, the God of Mischief pulled away and kneeled before me, placing a hand on his heart. I couldn't help but feel a strong sense of Deja Vu.

"I meant every word", he reassured,

Taking my hand into his.

"I've lost you once. I will not make that same mistake again"

I searched deeply into his eyes and all I could find was sincerity. For the first time in a long time, I was finally sure.

"Loki"

I pulled him back onto his feet and cupped his cold face.

"I love you too...I don't think I ever stopped"

He chuckles slightly in relief.

"That's all I've ever wanted to hear", he says,

Before pulling me in by the waist and pressing his lips against mine. The kiss started off mellow and soft, but it quickly grew heated. He picks me up by my thighs and effortlessly wrapped them around his waist. He ended up

My fingers sneak into his black locks, grasping at the roots and causing a delicious groan to escape him.

Using his godly strength, he lifts me up higher into the air, now throwing my legs over his shoulders. With a flash of his magic, I was now completely naked up against the glass.

"People will see", I say out breath,

"Let them", he grinned,

"Let them envy the way I ravish your beautiful body, knowing they will never get the chance"

I could feel myself grow wetter at his comment.

"By the looks of it, you don't seem to mind either", he teases,

Before kissing the inside of my thighs, slowly making his way towards where I needed him most. He wrapped his soft lips around my bundle of nerves, making me gasp at the sensation. I was being tasted like I'd be the last thing he'd ever have. A man on death row, savoring his final meal.

"It has been to long", he mumbled against me.

"It has", I whined,

As his skilled tongue drew circles over my clit again and again, till the knot in my stomach began to tense. I missed how easily he made me melt.

My fingers snuck into his hair once more, holding on for dear life. His own rubbing up and down my slit, before slipping themselves inside and pressing against my sweet spot. I could feel him grin at the wanton cries and moans that spilled out of me.

It was more the obvious that I was already about hit my peak.

"Close already?", he teased,

Continuing his ministrations.

"I must taste your release at once. Come for me, sweet girl", he demanded.

That was all I needed to hear.

I came with a moan so loud, I was thanking my lucky stars the walls were sound-proof.

Still, coming down from the euphoric high, he lets me down gently. Firmly holding my weak frame to steady me. Once he realized it was going to take a while for my legs to calm from there incessant shaking, he picked me up and laid me down on the sofa.

"Tonight, I will make up for lost time", he mumbled against my lips.

"I will show you just how deep my everlasting devotion for you lies"

With the help of his magic once again, he causes his trousers to disappear, along with his boxers.

His hard cock aching for attention.

"Do you see what you do to me? How desperate and needy I am for you?", he growls in my ear,

Causing my skin to raise in goosebumps. He takes the tip and rubs it up my already throbbing entrance.

"I've missed this so much", he confesses,

Before thrusting into me and ripping a cry from the depth of my chest. Without giving a moment to adjust, he began pounding into me at a merciless pace.

By this time, the sun had already began to peak from the horizon and the room smelt of sex and sweat. It was now his turn to yank at the roots of my hair, exposing my bare neck for his hungry teeth.

"I will mark you and claim you as mine once more", he mumbled against my warm skin,

As he repeatedly slammed into my g-spot. It didn't take long for my next orgasm to build, as my legs were already threatening to snap close and all I could do was scream out his name again and again like a fallen prayer.

I could tell by the rhythm of his hips faltering that he wasn't far behind either.

"Meet me there, darling. Come for me", he groaned,

As we both were thrusted over the edge. He spills himself inside my clenching walls, letting his head fall back at the overwhelming pleasure. Out of breath and well-spent, he collapses on top of me and wraps his arms around my waist.

We lay in the comforting silence for a moment, till he found the strength to pull out of me and lay me atop his chest.

"Yours"

I look up at him, as he brushed away a hair stuck to my forehead.

"Always"

[cinemastyles-backup]

Under My Skin

Summary: request from theladyvalkurie - “Harry and Y/N are rivals who end up having to share a hotel room.”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, enemies to lovers basically, fingering, oral, rough actions, hate sex, general filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

DUNKIRK HARRY

"Y/N!"

"Over here! Smile for us, y/n!"

"Gorgeous!"

The cameras flashed as the media got the pictures they needed, "Thank you." I blow a kiss to the photographers and move on to the next group.

"Y/N, if I could have a moment of your time, please." An interviewer asks. "Hello, hello." I smile and look at the camera with a wave, "How are you?" She smiles, "I'm great, how are you? Your dress is absolutely stunning, by the way! Very nice!"

I fluff my dress out, "Oh thank you, I'm just in shock, right now. I think, yeah. I'm happy that the filming is over and we can finally get this movie out for everyone to see. It's a very good movie if I say so myself."

She lays a hand on my shoulder, "Well you heard it straight from the one star of the movie, this movie is worth the watch. So, y/n, I'm sure the fans are dying to know, what was it like working with Harry?"

I was waiting for this question to pop up.

I smile, "It was very exhilarating, I will say that."

He got on my last nerve every. Single. Fucking. Day.

"You must be a fan of him-"

I hate him.

"-so getting casted in this role must have been so exciting for you!"

I nod, "Yeah, yeah. It was something. That's for sure."

Suddenly the fans start to scream louder and I look over my shoulder. The interviewer turns, "That must be him now. Y/N it was great chatting with you! Hope to see you again soon!"

"Yeah, of course." I stand there and watch the fans go nuts as Harry steps out of the vehicle. He's in a pale green suit with a black undershirt and his hair is freshly cut.

I roll my eyes, hoping no one caught that on video and I walk over to another group or photographers. I turn and show off every angle of my dress when suddenly, there's an arm around my waist.

I instantly know it's Harry, "What are you doing?" I mumble through my teeth as I continue to smile.

"Getting photographed with my co-star." He whispers lowly.

I fight back an eye roll and the urge to push him away and suck it up. I lay a hand on his stomach and smile at the cameras, giving them all they're asking for.

The director and crew always joked about us being rivals but between me and Harry, i didn't think it was a joke. It's always a competition with Harry. Who gets the most likes, the most views, who has more fans.

It's obvious he's more popular than I am, I mean fuck. He makes music too. His concerts sell out as soon as the tickets are released.

"Thank you guys!"

"Beautiful, thank you!"

"Hate you." I mumble as I turn away.

"Hate you more." He says with a wink.

As much as I try to fight it off, he gets under my skin and he knows it, too.

"Alright guys, bring it in." Montie, the director, says waving his hands for us to gather around him, "This is a big premiere for me. For us." He says looking around at everyone, "Y/N. Harry." He points to us, "You guys made this movie the best it can be and I am grateful for the both of you."

Here it comes.

"If you both can just.. he civil for this, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Oh, Mon." Harry steps up, "We're good. You don't have to worry. We've put all of that behind us."

I take in a slow deep breathe and straighten, immediately smiling and nodding as Montie looks at us, "Yeah. Great." My eyes shoot to Harry and give him a subtle snobby look.

"Great. Great. Now everyone, you know your places to walk in, so everyone get in line and smile for the cameras. Wave to the fans. You know what to do." He claps and walks over to some reporters.

"How'd you like that?" Harry asks getting in front of me, "You're welcome by the way." I look away and shake my head, "I have nothing to be thankful for with you."

He snickers, "Yeah, I gave you exposure to my fans, so. That doesn't exactly make us rivals anymore, does it?"

I step up close to him, so close I can smell his cologne, "I don't need you to give me exposure to your fans, I'd rather lay out in the hot sun in the desert in July than be anything more than an on screen lover to you."

He looks over his shoulder, "You sure it's just on screen? Because I see the way you look at me."?

"With disgust and repulsion? Because I can assure you, that is no where near love." I step back and cross my arms.

"Harry, harry, hello." A woman walks up with a camera man and a microphone.

Oh great. I fix my posture and smile incase I'm in the shot.

"Hello, Evelyn. How are you, darling?" He leans in and gives her a hug, "You we're at my last movie premiere, right?"

She nods, "Oh gosh, I'm happy you remember." Harry smiles, "What can I do for you?" She smiles and points to me, "I was wondering if I can get an interview with you and your on screen lover."

I internally gag and step up, "Hello, Evelyn is it? That dress is beautiful on you!" She smiles, "Oh thank you, something I just pulled out of my closet, but your dress, wow. It fits beautifully on you."

I smile and shrug, "I had someone to dress me, if it were up to me I'd be home in my sweats eating ice cream." She laughs, "I feel you on that one, anyway. I was hoping I could ask you guys some questions since we have a few more minutes."

I nod, "Anything you want."

"Is Lucas and Amelia's relationship on screen like yours and Harry's is in real life?"

Harry is going to jump in when I start to drown, "Well, I wouldn't say we're exactly like them, I mean in some ways, I'm like Amelia because she knows what she wants and doesn't settle for anything than less she deserves."

She nods and looks at Harry and he thinks for a moment. I brace myself for his answer.

"You know, Evelyn. I actually do relate to Lucas because he knows what he wants and he doesn't stop going after it. He's persistent with doing things he knows that will be good for him, even if, I don't know. There's a rivalry with someone he always figures out a way to get what he wants."

She raises her eye brows, "Wow. So wait, you said rivalry, does that pertain to you two specifically?"

"Oh no, no." I jump in before Harry can, "Harry and I are pals. We're the bestest of friends." I wrap my arm around his waist, "This guy, he's a funny, funny guy."

Montie comes up, thank god.

"Harry, y/n. You guys are next. I want you to walk in together, holding hands." He grabs my hand and places it on Harry's, "Act like you don't truly despise each other." He says lowly.

Harry squeezes my hand, "Ready, lover?"

"Have a good show!" Evelyn says walking away. "I hate you so fucking much." I fix my hair.

"You can't hate me, we're pals, bestest of friends." He mocks my words, "Just be happy. You can hate me later."

We walk in and the crowd cheers for us. I smile and wave with Harry still holding my hand. The media is going to eat these up.

Great.

After the movie ends, we all make our way back out to the carpet, greeting people, getting congratulated and what not.

"Hey, guys." Monroe comes up to Harry and I, "So as you know, we have some more press tomorrow and the hotel we're staying at had just enough rooms for us."

"So we'll all be in the same hotel. That's good, right?" I smile but it quickly gets ripped away.

"We all had to double up, so you and Harry are in a room, great talk." He walks away quickly and I stand there with my lips parted, trying to process what he just said.

"Well, pal. Looks like we're roomies." Harry elbows my side gently and walks over to the fans behind the barricade.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

"Mon.. Mon.." I walk up to him, "I-I can't share a room with Harry. I'll end up killing him. You of all people should know that by now."

He lets out a stressed out laugh, "Y/N.. please.. just be civil. I know he gets under your skin, I know you guys have a rivalry or whatever it is. Maybe this will help you guys get through it. Please. I need my two shining stars to be able to be in the same room with each other."

I let out a defeated sigh, "Okay."

He lays his hands on my cheeks, "You're the greatest."

——

"Uh-uh, nope. I get the bed. You can sleep.." I lay my suitcase on the bed and look around. I then motion to the floor, "..on the floor or whatever."

He laughs, "But I want the bed."

"And I want to be able to solve world hunger." I look at him with a serious stare, "I get the bed."

"I get the bed." He argues, "You can sleep on the little loveseat. I'm too tall for that."

"That sounds like a personal problem to me." I smirk slightly and unzip my suitcase, "I'm going for a bath, when I get out, your ass better be camped out on the floor."

"And what if it's not? You going to punish me?" He laughs and I ignore him as I walk to the mini fridge, "Hmm." I look over the assortment of little liquor bottles and grab a few before I walk into the bathroom.

I undress and throw on one of the hotel robes before I start my bath. I sit on the edge of the big tub and open one of the bottles.

I down the shot and set it on the counter. Just as I start to take off my robe, Harry opens the door, "Are you hungry?"

"Harry, fuck." I bring my robe back over my shoulder and turn to look at him. He smirks, "Not like I haven't seen it before." He tilts his head, "Do you want me to order you something? I'm starving."

I nod and tell him yes just to get him out of the bathroom. He winks and shuts the door. I stand there for a moment and shake my head, "No. no. No, y/n."

I take my robe off and step into the hot bath, submerging my body under the water and amazing smelling bubbles.

I close my eyes and lay my head back. I bite my lip and slip my hand between my legs, gently playing around with my clit.

I bite my lip to hold back my moans as I work my hand faster. I arch my back off the back of the tub as I can feel myself getting closer.

The door opens again and I jump and try to cover myself up, which results in water splashing everywhere.

"The foo- ooh, and what we're you doing?" He asks frisky.

"N-Not- Harry.. I-I .." I say getting flustered, "just get out. Please." I hide my face in my hand, "I should have locked the door.

"Mhm. But you didn't." He says before walking out.

"Oh my god." I mumble into my hands, "What the fuck?!"

I finish my bath and slip my robe back on. I open the door, preparing myself to face Harry after what he walked in on. I mean, my fault. I didn't lock the door, which I should have. But I didn't? Why didn't I-

No, no. I hate Harry. I hate Harry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I stop in my tracks as I see him sitting on the bed eating his food, "Um, eating? What are you doing? Or, not doing?" He smirks and shoves his mouth full, "Come on. Eat."

I walk over and sit down on the bed with my back facing him as I grab the plate, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I just figured you were too busy to-"

I whip around and cut him off, "Shut up. Zip it. We don't speak about it ever again. Okay?" He holds his hands up in defense, "Yes ma'am." He salutes me and moves him plate, "I'm going for a shower, I'm not locking the door, fyi."

"Oh my- get out." I groan and lay back on the bed, "Leave." He laughs as he walks into the bathroom. I crack open another bottle and take it, "Shit." I whisper as I crack open another one.

I sit up and finish eating. I set my plate down on the stand and lay back, switching on the tv. I click through the channels trying to find something decent to watch.

I hear the door crack open and i fight myself not to look over at him. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hmm." I keep my eyes glued to the tv. I feel something land in my lap and I look down. He tossed me another bottle of liquor, "Have a shot with me. Celebrate our movie being an absolute success."

I pick up the tiny bottle and slowly look up at him. He's standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist and his skin glistening in the hotel light from the water that didn't dry.

I bite the inside of my lip and sit up, cracking open the little bottle. He walks over and leans down, pieces of his hair falling down onto his forehead.

"I'm done after this one." I tap the bottle to his and take it. He takes his and smirks, "Why? Afraid of the effects?" I roll my eyes, "No. I just can't roll out of bed and look good after drinking all night like you can." I look up at him, "I mean-"

"You think I look good?" He shrugs, "I think I do, too."

"You're such an arrogant son of a bitch." I scoff and throw the empty bottle at him. He catches it and tilts his head, "Hmm."

"What." I snap, "What now?"

"Nothing. Nothing." I get up and go to walk by him but he grabs my arm and spins me around to him. His hands slowly slide down to my hips. My eyes slowly gaze up his bare chest and meet his eyes.

"What are you doing?" I ask quietly. He smirks slightly and brushes hair out of my face, "Just offering to help you finish what you started in the bath."

I'm taken aback, "Wh-what?" I step back, considering his offer which I quickly brush off, "No. no." He steps towards me, "You sure, y/n?"

I lay a hand on my forehead and let out a sigh, "Harry." He lightly brushes my cheek with his finger, "y/n."

I give in. Pressing my body to his as his lips attack mine. His hands move quickly to undo my robe and push it off my shoulders. It drops to the floor and my hands go to his towel, untucking it and letting it fall.

His hands slide down over my boobs and he slips one between my legs. His fingers immediately find my clit and he takes it between.

A gasp slips from my lips and I drag my hand down his chest. I look up at him and he nods, "Please." I wrap my hand around his cock and slowly start to pump.

He moans and leans forward to lay his head on my shoulder, "You're so wet." I spread my legs a little to give him more room. He slides a finger in slowly, curling it as he sucks on my neck.

I squeeze him slightly and raise up on my tip toes, "Fuck." I groan lowly, "Harry." I place a hand on his side and push him back a bit.

He takes the indication and backs up, laying down on the bed. I straddle him and lean down to kiss him, "This doesn't mean anything." I say with a smirk, "I still hate you with my whole being."

I whimper as he slides a finger back inside of me. He leans up slightly and looks at me, "Then bend over and put your face in the sheets so you don't have to look at me."

He rolls me off of him and pulls my hips up. His hands squeeze my ass cheeks as me groans to himself, "Hate sex is the best sex. I plan on fucking you so hard, y/n."

I moan at his words and grip the sheets, "Please."

"Are you begging for me? Is that what I hear?" He leans in and licks a stripe up my pussy, "For someone who hates me so much, you sure are craving my cock. Aren't you, y/n?"

His fingers trail down my spine painfully slow, "Don't get quiet now." He leans in and starts to eat me out from behind. I gasp and moan while pushing my hips back to gain more contact his tongue.

He groans against me, his fingers digging into my hips.

He pulls back, "Roll over. I'm going to put that mouth to a better use."

I bite my lip and watch him has he moves up to me, "Can't handle me being a big girl by using my words?" He chuckles, "Sometimes I'm just sick of hearing you speak."

He pushes the tip of his cock against my lips and I part my lips and take him in, swirling my tongue and sucking as I bob my head, "Fuck." He groans, "This.. this is how I want to shut you up.."

I look up at him as I hallow out my cheeks. He looks down at me, "You're so pretty when you're not running your mouth." He places a hand on my head and pushes it down, "when you're choking on my cock instead."

He fucks my throat, moaning with each thrust, "Fuck." He pulls out, "Still hate me?" He smirks and I smirk back, rolling over and bringing my hips up, "Fuck you."

"Mm, looks like I'm about to do that to you." He gets behind me and roughly pushes his cock inside of me, causing me to scream out, "Fuck, Harry." He brings a hand down, harshly smacking my ass.

I whimper and wiggle my hips, "Please. Fucking move, do some-"

He pulls out and thrusts back in, repeating his action.

Hard and slow.

He slides a hand up my back and grabs a fist full of my hair, yanking my head back. I moan at the stinging pain from him pulling my hair and the pleasure of his cock ramming into me.

"You like that?" He groans leaning down. His teeth sink into my shoulder and I moan, "Fuck. Harry. Fuck." I let out a pleasured scream as his thrusts become faster.

"Shit, y/n." He groans leaning up, "Fuck."

"Oh god. P-please don't stop." I reach back and grab his wrist. He grabs my hand and pins it against my lower back, "You going to cum for me?"

I let out a loud moan into the bed and push my hips back to meet his. "Harry." I scream out as my body is taken over by my orgasm, "Fu-" I whine as he fucks me through my high.

His thrusts become sloppy and I feel him slip out and his cum landing on my back.

He slowly lays me down and goes to grabs his towel off the floor. He wipes my back off and toss it to the floor. He flops down next to me and I slowly turn my head to look at him, "This doesn't change anything. You're still an asshole."

He chuckles, "And you're still a slut for my cock."

"Get out." I laugh weakly. He chuckles and pulls the blankets up over us, "You might want to wear a dress that covers your shoulders tomorrow."

I groan, "Of course you'd leave marks. Idiot."

"I didn't hear you complain once."

I lay there and process what just happened and I know in my heart that it's bound to happen again because Harry was right, hate sex is the best sex.

——

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥

[radiant-reid]

idk if the first one got sent-

(ok this is one of the worst things to talk ab on international womens day of all days bUT-)

i know that i, a modern day feminist, wants ANY man to know that i can handle myself in any situation like that anon ask but now bc of said ask i need blurbs of husband(or boyfriend or pining, idc)!spencer standing up for or defending reader or else. i wont take no for an answer girlies, so ima need you to drop recs in the comments

-🐝

of course. i'm sorry it's so late <3

Spencer is used to being the odd one out. He's the youngest member of the BAU, and his intellect often sets him apart from his colleagues.

But he has never felt as uncomfortable as he does now, standing in the crowded police precinct, surrounded by men who were openly leering at you.

It had started with a few offhand comments, the kind that was meant to be funny but left a sour taste in Spencer's mouth. Then it had escalated to outright harassment, with some of the officers making suggestive gestures as you walked by.

Spencer had tried to ignore it at first, let you deal with it as you saw most appropriate and focus on the task at hand, but as the comments became more aggressive and personal, he knew he couldn't stay silent any longer.

"Excuse me." He says, stepping in front of you and facing the group of officers. "Can we please focus on the case at hand? We're all here to solve a crime, not to make inappropriate comments about our colleagues." The officers laugh, but Spencer stands his ground. "I'm serious." He says, his voice rising with anger. "This behavior is unacceptable, and it needs to stop."

One of the officers, a burly man with a thick mustache and bad body odor, steps forward. "What's the matter, pretty boy?" He sneers. "Can't handle a little locker room talk?"

Spencer feels a surge of rage. How could these men be so callous, so disrespectful? No matter what room it happens in, it's wrong. He takes a step forward, ready to confront the officer, but before he can say anything, you speak up.

"Excuse me." You say, keeping a calm but firm voice. You've kept quiet out of ease, blowing up at them would only make the whole working relationship tense, and to save people, everyone needs to be working together. "I don't appreciate being talked about like I'm a piece of meat. And I'm sure the families of the victims we're here to help wouldn't appreciate it either."

The room falls silent, and for a moment, Spencer thinks the officers might apologize and back off. But then the mustache man steps forward again, his face twisted in anger.

"Who do you think you are?" He growls. "Coming in here, telling us how to do our jobs?"

"I'm not telling you how to do your job." You say. "I'm asking you to show me respect."

The officer scoffs. "Respect? You want respect? How about you show us a little respect and stop acting like you're better than us?"

Spencer can feel his blood boiling. This man is completely out of line, and he knows he had to do something before the situation gets out of hand.

"Excuse me." He says, his voice steady but forceful. "Y/n is not acting like she's better than anyone. She's simply asking to be treated with basic human decency. That isn't too much to ask."

The officer glares at Spencer, but before he can say anything, the door to the precinct opens, and a man in a suit walks in.

"What's going on here?" He asks, looking around the room.

Spencer recognizes him as the captain of the precinct, and he breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe with a higher-up present, the officers will back off.

But the mustache man isn't done yet. "These feds are coming in here, telling us how to do our jobs, and then they're crying about being disrespected? Give me a break."

The captain raises an eyebrow. "Is that true?" He asked, looking at you. It seems impossible he's even questioning your truthfulness.

Spencer takes a deep breath, ready to defend you until the end. "No, sir." He says. "We're here to work with you, not against you. But we won't tolerate being harassed. Agent L/n hasn't reacted to any of the disgusting comments coming from your officers, but one more and all the sanctions you can imagine will be filed against your officers and you as their supervisor." He's always been respectful of authority, drawn inside the line, but this is an argument he's not going to back down from.

Thankfully, the captain understands the seriousness of what's gone on. You're willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that he has just had his head in the sand for the last few days. It's not surprising when he's spent most of the time in his office with the blinds drawn. "Outside, all of you. Now." He sounds furious, scowling at them.

You turn to him, nudging his shoulder. "Thanks."

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry you had to listen to that crap, and I hope I didn't overstep by stepping in."

"Not at all." You assure him. "Thank you for it, truly."

[ushys]

Hiiiii!✨️

Could I request a Floyd with a S/o who's one of their og fans? Like- the reader is such a big fan that they'll do covers of older brozone songs and some of Floyd's newer work at their own concerts sometimes.

The reader is singing their heart out and Floyd is in the crowd like "Wait a minute- I RECOGNIZE THAT SONG-" and after the show he starts fangirling with his s/o bc they actually like his music.

(Bonus points if he gives them a lil smooch at the end-)

TYSM!✨️

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐍! 𝐒/𝐎

AN: OMLL THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA 😭💕 this is a big bonus for me since i am a floyd (and branch) stan myself so this is a win win

content: fluff, floyd being a cutie, gn! reader (they/them pronouns used), singer! reader, head cannons with a little one shot at the end, not proof read so sorry for any mistakes (might recheck later!

- you considered yourself to be a die hard fan of brozone like if anyone were to ask you anything about any member, you could have an answer in a blink of an eye

- you were the so proclaimed "#1 floyd stan" however, having tons of merch and knowing interesting facts about him

- i mean, how could you not stand him? he was the cutest member in your eyes

- "oh yeah i'm def going to get with floyd, he's literally the same age as me hello? he wants me so bad." - you | "[Y/N], you're delusional. be for real." - your friend

- whenever you had money saved up, you would always use it to go to their concerts

- yeah people called you irresponsible with your money but who cares? all you needed was to see them again!

- floyd and the rest of the group basically inspired you to start singing as well!

- you never admitted it, but your music was heavily inspired by brozone so that’s kinda how it got the attention of your favorite member!

- being a star wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth it seeing people’s faces light up every time you would sing or just having fans who loved you in general

- one of those fans being floyd (👀)

- that’s basically how you guys met

- he got special permission to go back stage and you almost fainted seeing him this close to you and ACTUALLY talking to YOU!

- a few months after that, you guys started dating and you couldn’t be any happier (beat that, *friend*)

- he was literally the best boyfriend ever

- he always has a gift ready for you and treats you so preciously

- goes all out on special occasions like your birthday, anniversary, etc

- he found your whole floyd collection of merch, cds, posters in your room and he likes to bring it up any chance he gets

- “remember that collection i foun-” “anyways.”

- he was always your #1 supporter and always at your concerts

- once, you decided to do a little something special at your concert

You just finished your last song and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams. Everyone thought that your show was over when they saw you walk out, waving and blowing kisses towards everyone until someone on the speaker came on. “Give it up one more time for [Y/N]! Don’t leave yet though! They have prepared one last thing for you!”

You suddenly come out with a completely different outfit, and everyone in the crowd started cheering again. Floyd, being one of the people in the front, was simply admiring the beauty in front of him, taking polaroid pictures of you that he would definitely add into your shared scrapbook.

You grabbed the microphone and moved it up so it would be at your mouth level. “I just want to say thank you for all the love and appreciation you guys have given me these past few months. It means to w world to me. Now, I’m going to be dedicating these three songs to the most special person in my life.”

You smile, as you make eye contact with your lover, who wipes a tear away from his eye and gives you a warm smile in return.

The music starts playing and you tap your foot to the beat. Floyd furrowed his eyebrows and nodded his head to the beat, getting a familiar vibe from it. ‘This sounds so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on what it reminds me of’ he thinks to himself.

You then start singing, letting the melody take over and losing yourself in the music. It finally clicked. “Wait! I RECOGNIZE THAT SONG! THEY’RE SINGING MY SONG!” He yells out, “fangirling” by jumping up and down realizing that you covered one of his songs.

When the song ended, the crowd started cheering for more, which you gladly obliged and started singing old brozone songs, to which people were freaking out with excitement. Their favorite artist singing songs from their favorite band? Oh yeah, that’s perfection. You can’t even phantom how much happiness Floyd was filled with.

After the concert, you met up with your boyfriend backstage and he came running to you with his arms wide open, his eyes closed, and with a big smile on his face. “[Y/N]! You did so good out there, my love! I really enjoyed the songs that you chose, it really warmed my heart." He wrapped his arms around you and spun you around. “Thank you, babe! I’m glad you liked it, all I had in my mind during those songs were you.” You say, as you softly put your hands on his face, admiring his features.

He give you a big dorky smile and a big loving kiss on your cheek and then on your lips. “I love you so much, *nickname*”

“And I love you more.”

note: omg guys the floyd brainrot is getting out of control i wanna throw him around like a ping pong ball he’s so cute 😮‍💨 also hopefully you liked this and enjoyed it !!

@USHYS content - Do Not Copy.

[cinemastyles-blog]

Under My Skin

Summary: A request by @victoria-styles - “Harry and Y/N are rivals who end up having to share a hotel room.”

Warnings: SMUT18+, rough, semi forced actions, strong language, hate towards each other, unprotected sex, general FILTH

Master

DUNKIRK HARRY

"Y/N!"

"Over here! Smile for us, y/n!"

"Gorgeous!"

The cameras flashed as the media got the pictures they needed, "Thank you." I blow a kiss to the photographers and move on to the next group.

"Y/N, if I could have a moment of your time, please." An interviewer asks. "Hello, hello." I smile and look at the camera with a wave, "How are you?" She smiles, "I'm great, how are you? Your dress is absolutely stunning, by the way! Very nice!"

I fluff my dress out, "Oh thank you, I'm just in shock, right now. I think, yeah. I'm happy that the filming is over and we can finally get this movie out for everyone to see. It's a very good movie if I say so myself."

She lays a hand on my shoulder, "Well you heard it straight from the one star of the movie, this movie is worth the watch. So, y/n, I'm sure the fans are dying to know, what was it like working with Harry?"

I was waiting for this question to pop up.

I smile, "It was very exhilarating, I will say that."

He got on my last nerve every. Single. Fucking. Day.

"You must be a fan of him-"

I hate him.

"-so getting casted in this role must have been so exciting for you!"

I nod, "Yeah, yeah. It was something. That's for sure."

Suddenly the fans start to scream louder and I look over my shoulder. The interviewer turns, "That must be him now. Y/N it was great chatting with you! Hope to see you again soon!"

"Yeah, of course." I stand there and watch the fans go nuts as Harry steps out of the vehicle. He's in a pale green suit with a black undershirt and his hair is freshly cut.

I roll my eyes, hoping no one caught that on video and I walk over to another group or photographers. I turn and show off every angle of my dress when suddenly, there's an arm around my waist.

I instantly know it's Harry, "What are you doing?" I mumble through my teeth as I continue to smile.

"Getting photographed with my co-star." He whispers lowly.

I fight back an eye roll and the urge to push him away and suck it up. I lay a hand on his stomach and smile at the cameras, giving them all they're asking for.

The director and crew always joked about us being rivals but between me and Harry, i didn't think it was a joke. It's always a competition with Harry. Who gets the most likes, the most views, who has more fans.

It's obvious he's more popular than I am, I mean fuck. He makes music too. His concerts sell out as soon as the tickets are released.

"Thank you guys!"

"Beautiful, thank you!"

"Hate you." I mumble as I turn away.

"Hate you more." He says with a wink.

As much as I try to fight it off, he gets under my skin and he knows it, too.

"Alright guys, bring it in." Montie, the director, says waving his hands for us to gather around him, "This is a big premiere for me. For us." He says looking around at everyone, "Y/N. Harry." He points to us, "You guys made this movie the best it can be and I am grateful for the both of you."

Here it comes.

"If you both can just.. he civil for this, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Oh, Mon." Harry steps up, "We're good. You don't have to worry. We've put all of that behind us."

I take in a slow deep breathe and straighten, immediately smiling and nodding as Montie looks at us, "Yeah. Great." My eyes shoot to Harry and give him a subtle snobby look.

"Great. Great. Now everyone, you know your places to walk in, so everyone get in line and smile for the cameras. Wave to the fans. You know what to do." He claps and walks over to some reporters.

"How'd you like that?" Harry asks getting in front of me, "You're welcome by the way." I look away and shake my head, "I have nothing to be thankful for with you."

He snickers, "Yeah, I gave you exposure to my fans, so. That doesn't exactly make us rivals anymore, does it?"

I step up close to him, so close I can smell his cologne, "I don't need you to give me exposure to your fans, I'd rather lay out in the hot sun in the desert in July than be anything more than an on screen lover to you."

He looks over his shoulder, "You sure it's just on screen? Because I see the way you look at me."?

"With disgust and repulsion? Because I can assure you, that is no where near love." I step back and cross my arms.

"Harry, harry, hello." A woman walks up with a camera man and a microphone.

Oh great. I fix my posture and smile incase I'm in the shot.

"Hello, Evelyn. How are you, darling?" He leans in and gives her a hug, "You we're at my last movie premiere, right?"

She nods, "Oh gosh, I'm happy you remember." Harry smiles, "What can I do for you?" She smiles and points to me, "I was wondering if I can get an interview with you and your on screen lover."

I internally gag and step up, "Hello, Evelyn is it? That dress is beautiful on you!" She smiles, "Oh thank you, something I just pulled out of my closet, but your dress, wow. It fits beautifully on you."

I smile and shrug, "I had someone to dress me, if it were up to me I'd be home in my sweats eating ice cream." She laughs, "I feel you on that one, anyway. I was hoping I could ask you guys some questions since we have a few more minutes."

I nod, "Anything you want."

"Is Lucas and Amelia's relationship on screen like yours and Harry's is in real life?"

Harry is going to jump in when I start to drown, "Well, I wouldn't say we're exactly like them, I mean in some ways, I'm like Amelia because she knows what she wants and doesn't settle for anything than less she deserves."

She nods and looks at Harry and he thinks for a moment. I brace myself for his answer.

"You know, Evelyn. I actually do relate to Lucas because he knows what he wants and he doesn't stop going after it. He's persistent with doing things he knows that will be good for him, even if, I don't know. There's a rivalry with someone he always figures out a way to get what he wants."

She raises her eye brows, "Wow. So wait, you said rivalry, does that pertain to you two specifically?"

"Oh no, no." I jump in before Harry can, "Harry and I are pals. We're the bestest of friends." I wrap my arm around his waist, "This guy, he's a funny, funny guy."

Montie comes up, thank god.

"Harry, y/n. You guys are next. I want you to walk in together, holding hands." He grabs my hand and places it on Harry's, "Act like you don't truly despise each other." He says lowly.

Harry squeezes my hand, "Ready, lover?"

"Have a good show!" Evelyn says walking away. "I hate you so fucking much." I fix my hair.

"You can't hate me, we're pals, bestest of friends." He mocks my words, "Just be happy. You can hate me later."

We walk in and the crowd cheers for us. I smile and wave with Harry still holding my hand. The media is going to eat these up.

Great.

After the movie ends, we all make our way back out to the carpet, greeting people, getting congratulated and what not.

"Hey, guys." Monroe comes up to Harry and I, "So as you know, we have some more press tomorrow and the hotel we're staying at had just enough rooms for us."

"So we'll all be in the same hotel. That's good, right?" I smile but it quickly gets ripped away.

"We all had to double up, so you and Harry are in a room, great talk." He walks away quickly and I stand there with my lips parted, trying to process what he just said.

"Well, pal. Looks like we're roomies." Harry elbows my side gently and walks over to the fans behind the barricade.

You've got to be fucking kidding me.

"Mon.. Mon.." I walk up to him, "I-I can't share a room with Harry. I'll end up killing him. You of all people should know that by now."

He lets out a stressed out laugh, "Y/N.. please.. just be civil. I know he gets under your skin, I know you guys have a rivalry or whatever it is. Maybe this will help you guys get through it. Please. I need my two shining stars to be able to be in the same room with each other."

I let out a defeated sigh, "Okay."

He lays his hands on my cheeks, "You're the greatest."

——

"Uh-uh, nope. I get the bed. You can sleep.." I lay my suitcase on the bed and look around. I then motion to the floor, "..on the floor or whatever."

He laughs, "But I want the bed."

"And I want to be able to solve world hunger." I look at him with a serious stare, "I get the bed."

"I get the bed." He argues, "You can sleep on the little loveseat. I'm too tall for that."

"That sounds like a personal problem to me." I smirk slightly and unzip my suitcase, "I'm going for a bath, when I get out, your ass better be camped out on the floor."

"And what if it's not? You going to punish me?" He laughs and I ignore him as I walk to the mini fridge, "Hmm." I look over the assortment of little liquor bottles and grab a few before I walk into the bathroom.

I undress and throw on one of the hotel robes before I start my bath. I sit on the edge of the big tub and open one of the bottles.

I down the shot and set it on the counter. Just as I start to take off my robe, Harry opens the door, "Are you hungry?"

"Harry, fuck." I bring my robe back over my shoulder and turn to look at him. He smirks, "Not like I haven't seen it before." He tilts his head, "Do you want me to order you something? I'm starving."

I nod and tell him yes just to get him out of the bathroom. He winks and shuts the door. I stand there for a moment and shake my head, "No. no. No, y/n."

I take my robe off and step into the hot bath, submerging my body under the water and amazing smelling bubbles.

I close my eyes and lay my head back. I bite my lip and slip my hand between my legs, gently playing around with my clit.

I bite my lip to hold back my moans as I work my hand faster. I arch my back off the back of the tub as I can feel myself getting closer.

The door opens again and I jump and try to cover myself up, which results in water splashing everywhere.

"The foo- ooh, and what we're you doing?" He asks frisky.

"N-Not- Harry.. I-I .." I say getting flustered, "just get out. Please." I hide my face in my hand, "I should have locked the door.

"Mhm. But you didn't." He says before walking out.

"Oh my god." I mumble into my hands, "What the fuck?!"

I finish my bath and slip my robe back on. I open the door, preparing myself to face Harry after what he walked in on. I mean, my fault. I didn't lock the door, which I should have. But I didn't? Why didn't I-

No, no. I hate Harry. I hate Harry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I stop in my tracks as I see him sitting on the bed eating his food, "Um, eating? What are you doing? Or, not doing?" He smirks and shoves his mouth full, "Come on. Eat."

I walk over and sit down on the bed with my back facing him as I grab the plate, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I just figured you were too busy to-"

I whip around and cut him off, "Shut up. Zip it. We don't speak about it ever again. Okay?" He holds his hands up in defense, "Yes ma'am." He salutes me and moves him plate, "I'm going for a shower, I'm not locking the door, fyi."

"Oh my- get out." I groan and lay back on the bed, "Leave." He laughs as he walks into the bathroom. I crack open another bottle and take it, "Shit." I whisper as I crack open another one.

I sit up and finish eating. I set my plate down on the stand and lay back, switching on the tv. I click through the channels trying to find something decent to watch.

I hear the door crack open and i fight myself not to look over at him.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hmm." I keep my eyes glued to the tv. I feel something land in my lap and I look down. He tossed me another bottle of liquor, "Have a shot with me. Celebrate our movie being an absolute success."

I pick up the tiny bottle and slowly look up at him. He's standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist and his skin glistening in the hotel light from the water that didn't dry.

I bite the inside of my lip and sit up, cracking open the little bottle. He walks over and leans down, pieces of his hair falling down onto his forehead.

"I'm done after this one." I tap the bottle to his and take it. He takes his and smirks, "Why? Afraid of the effects?" I roll my eyes, "No. I just can't roll out of bed and look good after drinking all night like you can." I look up at him, "I mean-"

"You think I look good?" He shrugs, "I think I do, too."

"You're such an arrogant son of a bitch." I scoff and throw the empty bottle at him. He catches it and tilts his head, "Hmm."

"What." I snap, "What now?"

"Nothing. Nothing." I get up and go to walk by him but he grabs my arm and spins me around to him. His hands slowly slide down to my hips. My eyes slowly gaze up his bare chest and meet his eyes.

"What are you doing?" I ask quietly. He smirks slightly and brushes hair out of my face, "Just offering to help you finish what you started in the bath."

I'm taken aback, "Wh-what?" I step back, considering his offer which I quickly brush off, "No. no." He steps towards me, "You sure, y/n?"

I lay a hand on my forehead and let out a sigh, "Harry." He lightly brushes my cheek with his finger, "y/n."

I give in. Pressing my body to his as his lips attack mine. His hands move quickly to undo my robe and push it off my shoulders. It drops to the floor and my hands go to his towel, untucking it and letting it fall.

His hands slide down over my boobs and he slips one between my legs. His fingers immediately find my clit and he takes it between.

A gasp slips from my lips and I drag my hand down his chest. I look up at him and he nods, "Please." I wrap my hand around his cock and slowly start to pump.

He moans and leans forward to lay his head on my shoulder, "You're so wet." I spread my legs a little to give him more room. He slides a finger in slowly, curling it as he sucks on my neck.

I squeeze him slightly and raise up on my tip toes, "Fuck." I groan lowly, "Harry." I place a hand on his side and push him back a bit.

He takes the indication and backs up, laying down on the bed. I straddle him and lean down to kiss him, "This doesn't mean anything." I say with a smirk, "I still hate you with my whole being."

I whimper as he slides a finger back inside of me. He leans up slightly and looks at me, "Then bend over and put your face in the sheets so you don't have to look at me."

He rolls me off of him and pulls my hips up. His hands squeeze my ass cheeks as me groans to himself, "Hate sex is the best sex. I plan on fucking you so hard, y/n."

I moan at his words and grip the sheets, "Please."

"Are you begging for me? Is that what I hear?" He leans in and licks a stripe up my pussy, "For someone who hates me so much, you sure are craving my cock. Aren't you, y/n?"

His fingers trail down my spine painfully slow, "Don't get quiet now." He leans in and starts to eat me out from behind. I gasp and moan while pushing my hips back to gain more contact his tongue.

He groans against me, his fingers digging into my hips.

He pulls back, "Roll over. I'm going to put that mouth to a better use."

I bite my lip and watch him has he moves up to me, "Can't handle me being a big girl by using my words?" He chuckles, "Sometimes I'm just sick of hearing you speak."

He pushes the tip of his cock against my lips and I part my lips and take him in, swirling my tongue and sucking as I bob my head, "Fuck." He groans, "This.. this is how I want to shut you up.."

I look up at him as I hallow out my cheeks. He looks down at me, "You're so pretty when you're not running your mouth." He places a hand on my head and pushes it down, "when you're choking on my cock instead."

He fucks my throat, moaning with each thrust, "Fuck." He pulls out, "Still hate me?" He smirks and I smirk back, rolling over and bringing my hips up, "Fuck you."

"Mm, looks like I'm about to do that to you." He gets behind me and roughly pushes his cock inside of me, causing me to scream out, "Fuck, Harry." He brings a hand down, harshly smacking my ass.

I whimper and wiggle my hips, "Please. Fucking move, do some-"

He pulls out and thrusts back in, repeating his action.

Hard and slow.

He slides a hand up my back and grabs a fist full of my hair, yanking my head back. I moan at the stinging pain from him pulling my hair and the pleasure of his cock ramming into me.

"You like that?" He groans leaning down. His teeth sink into my shoulder and I moan, "Fuck. Harry. Fuck." I let out a pleasured scream as his thrusts become faster.

"Shit, y/n." He groans leaning up, "Fuck."

"Oh god. P-please don't stop." I reach back and grab his wrist. He grabs my hand and pins it against my lower back, "You going to cum for me?"

I let out a loud moan into the bed and push my hips back to meet his. "Harry." I scream out as my body is taken over by my orgasm, "Fu-" I whine as he fucks me through my high.

His thrusts become sloppy and I feel him slip out and his cum landing on my back.

He slowly lays me down and goes to grabs his towel off the floor. He wipes my back off and toss it to the floor. He flops down next to me and I slowly turn my head to look at him, "This doesn't change anything. You're still an asshole."

He chuckles, "And you're still a slut for my cock."

"Get out." I laugh weakly. He chuckles and pulls the blankets up over us, "You might want to wear a dress that covers your shoulders tomorrow."

I groan, "Of course you'd leave marks. Idiot."

"I didn't hear you complain once."

I lay there and process what just happened and I know in my heart that it's bound to happen again because Harry was right, hate sex is the best sex.

——

Requests are accepted and credit is given - Send me a message!

[allbark-no-bite]

who are you mad at.

topper thornton x reader (wc: 3.4k)

summary: Topper doesn’t appreciate John B’s friendship with his girlfriend. sometimes all it takes is a blowjob and a little bit of forgiveness

warnings: 18+ smut, blow jobs, mentions of blood, over possessive boyfriend

author’s note: not me actually writing something with plot lol. i cannot believe all of the support i got on my last post, thank you all! i’m know that this isn’t Rafe lol, but i hope you’ll all give it a shot!

————————————————————————

As a little girl, I could never understand why the sheriff and the judge always drank coffee on my grandads front porch. It took me a few years to realize that it was probably for the same reason that the judge's grandson was always so sweet on me.

Politics in a small town like Kildare run deep on family ties and favors. It's all about who's blood is running through who and who's bed you wake up in when the sun comes up. As my best friend Sarah has often laughed about, it's all about how you know or who you'll blow.

Speaking of which, Topper's zipping up the fly on his jeans, fingers fumbling as he misses the hole for the button and has to try again. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, blue eyes distracted as he fidgets with his shaggy but nevertheless, neat crop of hair. No one would expect anything less of Figure Eight's golden boy.

I can't help but smile, biting my lip in an effort to conceal it from where I'm knelt on the floor. He's stupidly pretty. Blue eyes, straight nose, chin that dimples when he smiles.

He must feel my gaze on him because he catches my eye as he's buckling his belt and looks back at me. "What?" he laughs, breaking out into a bashful smile that matches my own.

"I don't know," I say, still smiling, and accept the hand he offers to pull me to my feet.

I don't remember when exactly Topper and I stopped being friends and started actually dating. It all happened so naturally that I don't know if we ever really distinguished between the two. One day we were just friends hanging out, getting drunk at the Boneyard, and then the next week he's kissing me at a party for everyone to see, like it wasn't a big deal that my best friend was kissing me. In some ways I guess it wasn't. It had never occurred to me that I would date anyone else. Sure Topper had dated Sarah for a while, but even that was short lived, and he had always been very upfront with me about it.

"Just you, I guess," I propose, grinning wider as he circles his arms around my waist, pulling me into him.

He's dressed up nicer than usual this evening for the Carrera's anniversary party in a billowy blue and white button up and khakis. The light colors pale in comparison to his bronzed skin, a likely permanent feature that the Carolina sun has given him.

"Really?" he hums, pecking my lips as my head tilts back to look up at him. My lips purse pliantly in response. Topper brushes aside the hair from my shoulder and hums, immediately pleased with the amount of exposed skin that he is rewarded with. The tank top that I'm wearing gives him the opportunity to ghost his lips along my shoulder until he settles on placing a kiss to the crevice of my neck.

My fingers curl into the brunette roots at the base of his neck at the attention. "It's not often I get you to myself."

With Topper's mom being the overbearing mother that she was, and the pressure that came with being the Judge's grandson, it was hard to get him out of their sights. However, if either bothered him, he never confessed such qualms to me. Such reasons are also why I think he was more privy to the political concept of our relationship than I was.

I remember being sixteen when a neighbor called the cops on one of Kelce's parties well after midnight. Of course no one knew this until Shoupe and a couple of his deputies showed up, sirens blaring. Most definitely a little buzzed and close to sobbing in the backseat of Shoupe's patrol car, I couldn't understand why Topper was so calm at the time. He just kept repeating, 'Don't worry about it, baby' and 'It'll all be fine'. At the time I hadn't noticed we were the only ones not in handcuffs. I thought for sure I was going to spent the night in jail and then my parents were going to kill me the next morning. He obviously knew something I didn't because twenty minutes later the patrol car was pulling into my driveway, Judge Thornton waiting on the porch with my grandad to take Topper home. The three of them shook hands and not a word was uttered about the incident again.

Topper dips his head to capture my mouth again, his teeth catching on the pout of my bottom lip.

Pressed to the front of my body, I feel his dick twitch in interest. I'm half compelled to drop to my knees and suck him off a second time just for the hell of it. The only problem is that he's got lipstick smeared on his mouth and his shirt is wrinkled and he's going to be late.

"Topper—" I begin.

"I know—I know—I know," he stresses, leaning down to kiss behind my ear again and then my cheek. "I'm going, I'm going."

Just when he pulls back and I go to step away, he grabs my face again, drawing my mouth back for another kiss.

"Topper—"

"I love you," he mumbles quickly after what is probably his hundredth kiss. "Okay. I'm going. I'll see you in a minute."

I watch him slip out the back door of the pool house we'd escaped to momentarily. I look over at the clock. What was supposed to be a quick five minute make out had turned into nearly half an hour. Thankfully, no one had been sent to look for us — namely my friends. Besides Kie and Sarah, the boys were off treasure hunting with Big John.

With all of the craziness going on in the past week, I was glad for the occasion to celebrate and enjoy the party. The evening air is cool and people are chattering excitedly, laughing and enjoying drinks. I spot Kie with her parents as I move throughout the crowd and she waves me over with a smile. Once I’m close enough, she latches onto my arm.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Big John was kidnapped, the boys are running off to South America to save him, and my parents won’t let me out of their sight,” she whispers through gritted teeth.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“Yeah, shit,” Kie stresses.

“Okay, okay. Don’t worry, I’m on it.” Turning to her dad with the brightest smile I can muster, I link arms with Kie. Thankfully, I fit in the with standard of friends Kid’s dad wants her to have, and he seems to be thankful I hang around.

“Hey, Mr. Carrera. I’m just going to steal Kie away for a moment. I promise we’ll be right back!”

He blinks, as if thinking about it for a moment before nodding. “Okay, just stay out of trouble you two.”

“We will!” I take off, dragging her with me as soon as the words leave his mouth. We haul it through throngs of tipsy guests, dodging anyone who might think to stop us.

“Wait!” Kie yelps snagging my arm before we reach the dock. Out of breath, I skid to a stop beside her.

“What—”

“Oh God,” she breathes.

Heart racing with adrenaline, I take another step towards the dock, dragging her along with me. “Kie, whatever it is, we have to go—”

“It’s John B. He’s talking to Topper.”

Straight ahead of us, I can make out John B’s wild head of hair and dingy yellow shirt. Him being the taller of the two, I glimpse the familiar white of Topper’s shirt just in front of him. Their voices are escalating by the moment, and I can make out the sound of Topper saying, “I want to know why you’re looking for my fucking girlfriend—”

“Oh God,” I repeat this time.

“(y/n), you need to go,” Kie stresses.

I take off before she even finishes her sentence, not even excusing myself as I dash past unsuspecting guests. People have started to stare and a sizable crowd has formed around them.

“— just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she can’t have friends without you.”

Topper scoffs. “Oh I see. This is about your little treasure hunting bullshit. So you think you can just run around with my girlfriend, do whatever the hell you want with her without me knowing?”

John B shoves him backwards, hard. “That’s not true!”

“John B, stop!” I shout, shoving my way to the front of the crowd as Topper catches himself. But it’s too late, John B is already grabbing the front of Topper’s shirt and yanking him to his feet.

The thing is, it’s not that Topper can’t defend himself, he’s more than capable of holding his own. It’s that he won’t. He won’t ruin his reputation in front of half the town. All he does is sneer, breathing hard as his blue eyes glint with hate. Topper had never liked my friends, only tolerated them for my sake — up until now.

“You think I don’t know?” Topper jeers. “All you’ve ever wanted is to get with (y/n).”

That’s all it takes for John B to swing. I scream as Topper stumbles backwards to the ground. Chaos erupts around us. I see Mr. Carrera hoist Topper to his feet, and my heart clenches at the sight. Blood is leaking from his nose and a dark rouge colored ring has already begun to form around his eye. When I move forward to help him, John B grabs my arm.

“We have to go. Now.”

My feet planted into the ground, I glance down at his split knuckles, and then back at Topper. Who do I choose? My best friend or my boyfriend?

Voice strained, I turn to John B. “I can’t just leave—”

“HELLO!! Now or never, guys!” JJ is on the dock with Kiara, and Sarah. Pope and Cleo are already in the boat.

“Go!” John B urges, shoving me in front of him. With one last look over my shoulder at Topper’s bloody face, I take off running down the dock with John B behind me.

—

I know he's mad before he even yanks the passenger side door open and drags me by my elbow to the car. Although his scowl and matching black eye are pretty heavy indicators, it's the stalk from the drivers side and around the front of the Jeep that tips me off.

"Get in the car, (y/n)," he barks without so much as a second glance at me.

John B and Pope glance at each other apprehensively. JJ and Kiara share similar looks.

With the passenger side door now open and Topper waiting for me to march myself over there, I hesitantly stand my ground. Anxiously, I swallow back the swell in my throat. "Go home, Top."

He throws his hands up in exasperation and shakes his head. "This—this is fucking ridiculous. Get in the car, (y/n)."

When I don't make a move either way, Cleo speaks up. "Leave her alone, man. She ain't gotta go nowhere wit' you." Her thick accent rings out loud and clear, but Topper pretends as though he doesn't hear her.

Having enough of our back and forth game, Topper strides over and grabs a firm hold of my elbow, intending to move me himself. Although I take a reflexive step backwards, I don't fight him off. At the same time, John B steps forward, ready to give Topper a black eye to match the other.

"John B, no," I immediately blurt out, twisting as best I can in Topper's grasp. "It's fine. It's fine." Sighing I turn back to Topper. "Okay," I relent. "Let's go."

We drive in silence for a while, waiting for the other to speak. I'm half hoping he won't and we'll make the entirety of the trip without uttering a word. Across the seat, we make eye contact and I scowl at him for the split second our eyes meet. Then I turn away and cross my arms with an air of defiance.

When I glance sideways at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes fixed on the road. I know him well enough to know that he's weighing out his options on what to say, determining what kind of conversation we're going to have.

He opens his mouth, starting to say something, then closes it and drags a hand over his jaw. "How many times did I call you?"

I shrug. "I don't know—"

"God dammit, (y/n). How many times did I call you!??" He slams his hand down on the console this time.

"I DON'T KNOW, TOPPER."

I do. Twenty-seven. He called twenty-seven times in addition to the missed texts and multiple question marks. I don't admit that though because it's easier to scream back at him than to admit that I was purposely avoiding his calls.

"You have got to stop hanging around with the wrong people. Start making better decisions." He's lowered his voice to a more appropriate volume now.

I glance over at him, a narrowed look on my face. "Who are you mad at, Topper?" I question. "Because I don't think it's me."

In the drivers seat, he continues to stare ahead at the road. "It's always fucking John B, isn't it. You always have to go to his rescue."

I set my jaw, knowing where his mind is and where this is going. "I didn't sleep with him, Topper."

Topper scoffs as if to make light of the situation. "Oh, for sure. You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's not like that. He's my friend."

We pull into his driveway, and Topper finally turns to me after parking the car. "Yeah? Well I'm your friend too, (y/n). You ever fucking think about that? Why do you think you're not sitting in jail right now with the rest of your so called friends?" He jabs a finger into his chest. "Me. Because I care about you!"

My back pressed up against the passenger side door, all I can do is blink in surprise. I'm not used to Topper yelling at me, and I'm not so sure I like it. I'd never thought about it that way before and guilt begins to creep into the pit of my stomach. My eyes suddenly sting and my nose burns with the threat of tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper barley audible, my voice cracking.

Topper falls back heavily into his seat and sighs, running a hand over his face. Without a word, he gathers his keys from the truck's ignition and steps out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Teary eyed, I watch him take the steps up the porch and pace up and down the length of it while repeatedly running a frustrated hand through his hair. I get out of his truck and walk up the steps after a few minutes. Confident that he's done yelling but unsure of where we stand at the moment, I stop just short of him.

Hands in his pockets, Topper runs his gaze over me from head to toe after coming to a stop in front of me before he emits another heavy sigh and curls his hand around my jaw, forcing me to look upwards at him. "Answer me when I call you, alright?"

Nodding, I swallow under the weight of his hand as his fingers travel down to my throat. His blue eyes are focused and yet lack their usual jubilance. I nearly whine in relief when he leans down to kiss me.

He tastes fresh, like he always does, a mix between peppermint gum and mint toothpaste. The taste resonates within me a type of unspoken forgiveness that I sense is being granted as his other hand presses my body into his. I can feel the rigid outline of his cock through the thin fabric of his shorts, and it sends my heart racing in anticipation.

The thing about Topper is that he's always been able to read me impossibly well, and so when he disconnects our mouths by using the leverage of his hand on my throat to hold me back, he chuckles airily. "Feel me? That's what you do to me, you little tease."

I paw at him, grabbing at the waistband of his shorts to pull his body closer. Topper is nearly a foot taller than me, and I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

"I'm sorry, Top."

He hums, the thumb of his hand moving to tug at the swollen pout of my bottom lip. "Are you? He's only giving me a hard time now, not even allowing me to answer before his thumb slips into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. "Going to be good for me then?"

The weight of his thumb is so soothingly familiar that I forget to respond in favor of suckling around the digit.

"Baby." He's quick to remind me, drawing his thumb from my mouth and swiping it wetly across my cheek to grip my jaw again.

My flushed cheeks forced into a pout, I nod as much as his hold on me will allow. "Mhm."

Topper glances over his shoulder, briefly surveying the closed blinds of the windows looking out on to the front porch, and then back to me.

"Alright, on your knees, pretty girl."

He doesn't have to ask twice. He's undoing his belt with one experienced hand and gathering a fist full of my hair at the back of my head with the other. Once removed from the confines of his boxers, his cock bobs at the freedom.

If there's one thing myself and multiple other girls in the Outer Banks can attest to, it's that sucking off Topper Thornton is a pleasure. I'd heard the rumors whispered around school even before we started dating. It was weird at the time, having to hear that kind of thing about my best friend, but once we started dating, I understood where they were coming from. With some guys, blowing them is an outright chore, but not Topper. He knows exactly what he's working with and how to use it.

Once again, he's heavy in my mouth. This time in a pleasurably aching way. His tip nudges the back of my throat, and I have to remind myself to relax and breathe through my nose as tears spring to my eyes. He swipes away a stray tear before it can fall.

"There you go, baby. Good."

He doesn't buck up into my throat, forcing me to gag and sputter as I try to accommodate his length — at least not this time. Topper just fists my hair and rocks slowly back and forth, eyes rolling as my throat clenches around him. My nose nearly digs into his pelvis by the time he's satisfied that his cock is nestled as far as it can get into the heat of my throat.

With the makeshift ponytail, Topper pulls almost all of the way out of my mouth before guiding himself back in. Each time the mushroomed tip kisses the back of my throat, he pulls his cock out of my mouth again. All it takes is a few good strokes before he's spilling into my mouth, moaning while I struggle to take him all. He pulls out when he's finished.

"Swallow," he instructs, tilting my jaw back so that I have but one option. Not that I would argue with him anyhow. I'm used to how he tastes, salty and strangely satisfying, His hot release slides down my throat. At first I would have wrinkled my nose at the thought of such a thing, but strangely, I've become accustomed to the taste. It's uniquely Topper, as odd as that sounds.

He helps me to my feet and plants another slow kiss to my swollen lips. I keen at the attention, my brain feeling sluggish and wishing he would just wrap his large hand around my throat again.

"I love you," he finally murmurs, pressing a find kiss to my forehead; a stark contrast to his manhandling moments before.

"Love you too."

Around us, the porch goes dark for a split second and I bolt into Topper's arms before the lights flicker back on. This repeats a few more times; long enough for us to realize that his dad is likely on the other side of the front door.

Topper groans. "Shit."

"Shit."

[mrsjoeythehurler]

When I Met You

(OC FMC x Liam Mairi)

All characters except for Aurora Sallow who is my OC and the FMC of this fic belong to Rebecca Yarros. The plot of Fourth Wing also belongs to Rebecca Yarros.

Content warnings: most of the warnings that are for Fourth Wing are also going to be in When I Met You. That includes: Blood, death, injury, violence and war. The only content warning I am adding is panic attacks (2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟAurora Sallow ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

This is not ideal.

Looking straight ahead, I debate my options. The Parapet is thin, not something you can walk on regularly. One wrong move and the wind will take you to your death.

One foot in front of the other. Keep your eyes on the stone in front of you.

I can do this. I've seen countless others just cross it with my own eyes. There's no reason why I can't do it too. Except for the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing. I haven't trained like everyone else. I'm not prepared like everyone else.

I feel the anxiety start to take hold again, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and praying to the god of luck, Zinhal, that I don't fall to my death.

"I can do this. There's no other option. I can't back out now."

Opening my eyes, I look at the stone ahead of me and take a step onto the Parapet.

Inhale, step, exhale, step. I repeat the cycle. The rain is pouring down, making the rock slippery beneath my feet, but my boots hold, and I take my time, trying not to worry about those behind me.

The wind blows hard, making my hair fly out around me. The stone beneath my feet is steady, but some of the rocks on each side of the mountain crumble and fall into the thrashing river beneath.

I'm halfway to the other end of the Parapet when I hear a squeak, like a shoe slipping against pavement. Turning my head slowly, I see a boy about my age just starting to regain his balance. His dark blonde hair was wet from the rain.

"Be careful!” I shout over the sound of the rain.

He looks up at me, and even though he looks neutral, I see the speck of fear in his eyes.

All I'm thinking to myself is, I don't want this boy to fall to his death.

Not thinking too much about it, I walk backward towards him.

"What are you doing?!" he yells.

"Helping you!" I yell back.

I look back at him and see I'm within arms' distance. "Hold on," I say, extending my hand for him to grab.

He looks at me, stunned momentarily, before grabbing my hand.

We inch our way closer and closer to the end of the Parapet, our free arms held out to keep balance. The rain continues with a vengeance, and the wind rips through, making it harder and harder to take a simple step.

I can hear the sound of rocks crumbling down the mountain and the river rushing below, but I never take my eyes off the stone ahead of me. I never let go of the boy's hand.

Gust after gust of wind slams into us, but we prevail, continuing to take step after step.

When we finally reach the walls, we run to the entrance.

I smile to myself. We made it.

Finally letting go of the boy's hand, we stand in silence, catching our breath and waiting for the adrenaline to ease. We're in a courtyard where two Riders stand to the side.

He breaks the silence first. "Thank you," he says, "for helping me. You didn't have to do that."

I give him a look. "I wasn't going to let you fall."

He gives me a small smile and reaches out a hand to shake mine. "I'm Sawyer."

Even though I've held this guy's hand for the last 20 minutes, I shake it. "Aurora."

After talking with Sawyer for a couple minutes, we both head over to give our names to the Riders in charge.

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Sound Waves Mind's Quest (Pt. 1)

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

Note: This date explores some very suggestive themes, so if you do not meet the game's required 17+ age rating, I'd suggest to avoid reading this date.

Highly recommended that you read Kiro's R&S: Youthhood, R&S: Stunning Young Idol as well as his New Palpitations Date before engaging with the date!

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 1]

Woooah---

The spotlight shines to the beat of the drums, and thousands of people in the audience cheer.

Under the beam, Kiro raises his hand, the silver pick hovering over the strings of the electric guitar with a slight difference. In an instant, the world seems to freeze, and all eyes are on him.

And after he turns his head and smiles at me, he sweeps it down hard with his right hand.

The sharp melody surges from the speakers, and I automatically step to the beat, playing the corresponding rhythm on the keys.

The keys of the keyboard and the strings of the guitar tacitly collide with each other, causing the audience to scream again and again.

In such a thrilling and electrifying world, all happiness and noise can be released here unscrupulously.

Under the surging sound waves, Kiro jumps along with everyone, and the fingertips flying across the strings gradually approach its climax.

His blond hair sways wildly to the music, and the smooth lines of his muscles grow tighter with the ever-accelerating rhythm.

As the amplitude of the sound waves grows louder and louder, he presses his entire back against my own, and using him as support, I hotly press up against him.

The sound of the strings and our breaths intertwine until the melody is pushed to its climax. I stop my hands in an instant and give an air shot to the person who was paying the most attention.

Bam! - the passionate tail sounds bloom loudly into the night, instantly extinguishing all the lights.

-

Panting, I return backstage, but as soon as I turn around, I'm met with a pair of deep eyes.

I take a step forward, wanting to say something, but he grabs me and kisses me in the darkness.

The sounds of the encore rise and fall, but I have no time to care about such things. I just tighten my grip on the front of his guitar strap and demand for more.

The friction between our clothing and the strings makes a fine sound, as if continuing the music in another subtle way.

Our heated and soft breaths cause me to slowly slide to the ground, and he squats down with me, pressing one of his hand against the wall and deepening the kiss.

Most of my oxygen is instantly sucked away. Everything spins, and strange light spots keep dancing in front of my eyes.

Those lights become more and more ethereal, slowly enveloping the world in a layer of white gauze, and the breeze blows through, making the scenery outside the window faintly visible.

Window...?

-

I turn my head in confusion, and see a touch of gold reflected in my eyes. That familiar face is sound asleep, the corners of his lips curled up as if was immersed in a sweet dream.

MC: ...Ah.

My consciousness gradually returns and my cheeks suddenly burn up - was everything just a dream?

While I busy myself trying to cool them down with the back of my hand, the person beside me seems to wake up and hug me.

Kiro: [sleepily] Good morning... mm, why didn't Cello come to step on the quilt today...? And Apple Box hasn't licked me either...

He pats the spot behind him in confusion, as if calling the two little ones to come over.

Seeing this man be even more confused than I was, I chuckle and caress his face.

MC: Wake up. Did you forget that we landed in Los Angeles at midnight? We're in the hotel right now.

Not long ago, Kiro's new album was nominated for the Best Pop Vocal Album by the WMAs. Considering the fact that the award ceremony was close to the Spring Festival, we arrived in Los Angeles early with the intent of taking a vacation to celebrate the New Year.

Kiro: ...Oh yeah, I was pretty sleepy. [Yawns] So, how did you sleep last night?

MC: Really well. So well that I even had a beautiful....

As soon as the words leave my mouth, the sound of our gasps suddenly comes to my mind and I quickly change my description with a blush on my face.

MC: I had a very magical dream.

MC: I dreamed that we were performing on stage together... You were the guitarist, while I was the keyboard player!

MC: The audience kept shouting for an encore. During the performance, they thought we were the most popular band in the world~

Kiro's eyes widen and he moves a little closer to me.

Kiro: Then what?

MC: And then we walked off the stage, and then, and then it was over...

While its true that dreams are usually blurry, this one is so vivid that it gradually overlaps with the person in front of me, making me feel hot all over.

Kiro: Over?

MC: Over!

Kiro: [chuckles teasingly] MC, did you know you're really bad at lying? Your eyes are wandering and your face is as red as an apple. Usually when you get like this, it means...

The hand touching his chin pauses, and Kiro comes closer to me, a wicked smile on his face.

Kiro: Did I possibly kiss you in your dream?

MC: ...!

His straightforward answer makes me want to crawl under the quilt, but he latches onto my head first and buries it into his chest, laughing.

Kiro: [with lilting laughter] Okay, I'll stop teasing you now. Can you tell me more about your dream? For example, what songs did we sing? And did you enjoy being in a band with me?

MC: Of course I enjoyed it, and I remember the song we sang was also really nice, something like hum--hum hum--

The melody on my lips slowly becomes clearer and smoother, and we both seem to realize something, each of us staring at each other with wide eyes.

Kiro: Isn't that "Wonderful Day"?

MC: Ah... Now I know why I had this dream!

I excitedly pick up my phone and unlock the screen, automatically playing the video I hadn't finished watching before going to bed--

The video shows a practice room lit up by the afterglow of the sun, and a blond boy is sitting on the ground, holding a guitar and humming a tune.

His tight-fitting pure white long sleeves shirt makes him look a little thin, and his face beneath his forehead also possesses the unique innocence of his youth.

As if he was practicing, he sang acapella without accompaniment, but his singing was filled with the sounds of friction due to the old recording equipment at the time.

Even so, the passion and purity can clearly be seen in those eyes.

This was Kiro, an 18-year-old member of a start-up band, and this scene appears in this MV in the form of a memoir.

MC: Although I've searched for various old videos of yours, this is my first time seeing you practice behind-the-scenes.

MC: So I couldn't help but watch it a few more time. I didn't expect it to end up in my dream though~

As I say this, I think of something and point at the drum set behind "him" and the electric guitar on the floor.

MC: But why are you the only one practicing? Where are your bandmates?

Kiro: ...I can't remember. Maybe they hadn't come over yet, so I was just casually practicing while I waited for them.

MC: Oh, but I remember one of your bandmates' name was Pen?

He startles, as if he didn't expect me to still remember the person he'd just mentioned in passing.

Kiro: Mm, he was the guitarist for our band.

MC: Oh~ Then tell me in secret - who was better at playing the guitar, you or him?

Catching on to my teasing, he playfully raises his eyebrows in turn.

Kiro: There's no need to ask. I was the all-rounder of the band. I was just doing my duty as the lead singer so as to not steal everyone else's limelight.

MC: Wow... how bold. Your former bandmates would be furious if they knew about this.

I grin and lean on his chest, playing with the buttons of his pajamas.

MC: But this MV just reminded me that there must be many "treasures" from the past waiting for me to discover.

I pause and selfishly confess.

MC: After all, some people say that dreams are another parallel universe. So, I'll keep digging out more "materials".

MC: That way, I'd have more stories to experience with you from that time~

There is a chuckle that comes from above my head, and he takes my fingertips and kneads them absentmindedly.

Kiro: Then this treasure hunter should work hard. Maybe she'll be able to find... a super rare treasure that even I forgot about.

MC: I'll definitely work hard, but before I can gain anything new--

MC: I plan to listen to your album a few more times. Maybe I'll be able to continue my dream tonight!

MC: You don't even know how happy I was in the dream. It was my first time performing on the same stage with you. And I performed so beautifully!

The more I talk, the more excited I become, and I feel my heart pounding again like it did in my dream.

Kiro suddenly leans over and looks at me intently.

Kiro: MC, don't wait for night to come. Let's form a band now.

MC: Huh?

Kiro: Don't let it just be confined to your dream. After all, no matter how good the dream is, it'll only be a tenth as good as reality.

Kiro: And if dreams really are a parallel time and space... then I'll be very jealous of the Kiro who got to be on the same stage with you.

He pauses, and the familiar "sly grievance" appears in his eyes.

Kiro: What he has, I want too.

As he speaks, he lifts the quilt and gets out of bed from the other side.

MC: Wait! Now??

MC: Although there are still some days left before the award ceremony, we still need to get our outfits fitted and meet with various directors and producers...

For a while, I can't seem to make sense of what I'm feeling, and just report the upcoming itinerary in a daze.

But Kiro comes to my side of the bed and squats down with a smile, looking at me with bright eyes.

Kiro: Of course we have to do all that stuff, but music is a magical existence.

Kiro: It never conflicts with anything.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 2]

In the afternoon, we drive a rented sports car through the city.

Kiro: There used to be a very authentic American burger joint on this street, but later, the owner closed it down cause he wanted to enjoy his old age.

Kiro: And on that street, I used to feed a black stray dog, which was later on adopted by a kind-hearted grandpa.

Kiro: Yes, yes, and this is the spot where Carol failed to confess his love. Raymond was gloating about it and collapsed to the ground laughing [laughs].(LMAO I'M SO SORRY, CAROL)

The bright sun shines on every street corner and seems to allow me to peak into his past through a rearview lens.

I take pictures of the scenery one by one until I realize something and speak out of curiosity.

MC: By the way... You've been touring the world frequently since then, so wasn't it rare for you to come back here?

Kiro: Yeah, it was even rarer after I went to college. I usually went back to the Bay Area after our tours.

At that moment, Kiro parks the car and pulls me out to stand in front of an unopened shop.

Except for a few guitars displayed in the window, it was pitch dark inside. I look up again and find that it doesn't even have a store name.

MC: Hmm? Is this a music store? Or some kind of training institution? Why does it feel like its closed down...

Kiro: Well... it's considered one of the "strongholds" of our band.

Kiro: You're right in thinking that it's a music store, but it has never been open for business. You'll know when you go in and take a look.

He takes out a key, opens the door and walks in under my doubtful gaze.

-

With the sound of a switch, the room instantly lights up--

It isn't big, and everything from the floor to the cabinets is made of dark solid American retro-style wood. Various musical instruments stay in different corners as they please, but they don't look dusty and seem to be well maintained.

MC: Okay, there are a lot of musical instruments here. So many instruments, and it still isn't open for business?

Faced with my shock, Kiro bursts into laughter and reaches out his hand to brush the guitars nostalgically.

Kiro: What you see here is what we intended to use ourselves.

MC: ...Yourselves?! With so many instruments, were y'all able to use them all?

Kiro: Most of the time they'd only be used as backup or in special situations~

As if remembering the past, he vaguely lifts the corners of his lips.

Kiro: There was a time when our drummer broke his drum during a late-night rehearsal. At the time, we were in high spirits and wanted to run out immediately to find a place to repair it.

Kiro: But all the instrument stores were closed. No matter how much we wanted it, we couldn't get it fixed.

Kiro: So in order to prevent similar incidents from happening, we made a decision on the spot - we'll just simply buy a music store!

Kiro: That's how we got this "stronghold".

MC: HUH??

He smiles as he thinks about it, as if realizing now how "reckless" they were at the time.

Kiro: [chuckles] Okay, I admit that normal people wouldn't think like this.

Kiro: But we honestly thought that this idea was quite reasonable at the time, because we wouldn't have to worry about breaking stuff in the middle of night during rehearsals--

Kiro: You could just immediately grab a new one from the side and continue rehearsing seamlessly~

MC: [grinning widely] Sigh... What a bunch of music fanatics.

MC: And y'all were such "tycoons", buying music stores just because you wanted to...

As soon as I finish speaking, I realize that I seem to have touched a sore spot. The corners of his lips twitch stiffly twice.

Kiro: No, we didn't really have much income at the time, so we basically used all of my little treasury to get it.

MC: Your little treasury? What about Pen and the others?

Kiro: [pouting] Hmph... they only covered the water and electricity bills here!

MC: Hahaha, it seems like every famous individual has a past that is "unbearable to look back on"~

MC: Tell me more, tell me more!

Kiro is momentarily taken aback, and he lowers his eyes, as if caught up in a brief memory.

Kiro: Also... it feels like there's nothing special about this place. Basically, we rehearsed together, held meetings to discuss creation, or asked a nearby Chinese restaurant to deliver food for us.

Kiro: Oh, I remember there were several magazines here. A lot of our promotional pictures should be in them.

MC: Promotional pictures? No private ones?

MC: For example, when you guys went out to have fun together, didn't you secretly take "funny photos" of your friends?

Kiro stops flipping through the magazine and shrugs at me.

Kiro: That's unlikely. Aside from performances and rehearsals, we hardly ever got together.

Kiro: You'll probably have to look for it, or you could dig out one or two from my cell phone album from a few years ago.

Sensing my subtle gaze, he quickly waves his hand.

Kiro: Don't think too much about it. I've been on good terms with them and have never gotten into any fights.

Kiro: At most, there were minor disputes over music discussions, but those were more about technical matters rather than personal ones.

MC: But... it doesn't seem like you guys keep in touch anymore.

Kiro: As "former colleagues", it's normal not to be in touch, right?

MC: Huh?

Seeing my stunned expression, he smiles and leans in front of the stairs.

Kiro: How should I put this... When Mr. Lawrence formed the band with me at its center, I knew it was more than just a dream.

Kiro: It was still my job and my career, I couldn't just care about my own feelings.

Kiro: Of course, they thought so too. So naturally, we focused on creation rather than each other.

His voice is very soft, but it weighs heavily on my heart.

This isn't the band story I'd imagined it to be. It was too rational and mature, so much so that it seems to have lost the passion and purity that youth should have had.

But their band was also lucky, and in the end, stood brilliantly under the bright lights.

Kiro knew very well where he needed to go and what he had to pay for it, so he made those regrets, big and small, seem too insignificant.

But... passion isn't just for the youth, is it?

Free adults could also grab a hold of it.

With that thought, I stretch out my hand towards him and smile brightly.

MC: Hello, lead singer, let's formally get to know each other.

MC: I'm the keyboardist of our band - MC. I'm going to be relying on you to guide me.

Kiro is left stunned for a moment. He then tightly holds my hand and raises a smile that was even more dazzling than my own.

Kiro: Hello, but I would like to remind this keyboardist that you're also responsible for the harmony.

MC: Huh? Will I be able to handle it..? After all, I haven't practiced the piano in a long time...

Seeing me suddenly get nervous and stiff, he gently shakes my shoulders.

Kiro: Relax-- Although a band sounds like a professional team doing many things, it is essentially a place where everyone gets together to play music.

MC: Then do you have any piano practice sheets? I want to warm up and move my fingers.

As I say this, I walk to the bookshelf nearby to rummage through. However, the person behind me laughs and pulls me back.

Kiro: Let's not do that. I need to help you relax. So why don't you say hello to them first?

Kiro pulls me to a piano and stars playing from behind me.

He plays softly and slowly, like a sleeping kitten rolling around in the sunshine, wrapping itself up with a flick of its tail.

Unknowingly... I seem to turn into that kitten, leaning peacefully into his arms.

Gradually, he removes his fingertips from the keyboard and gives me complete room on the instrument.

I can't help but raise my hand and continue the melody at will. Amidst the light and flying notes, I meet those smiling eyes.

MC: I didn't expect to meet "Teacher Flower" again after such a long time. And his teaching methods are still just as effective.

As if he hasn't heard that title for so long, Kiro chuckles, walks to my side, and leans down slightly.

Kiro: Then, Miss Chips, do you wish to give "Teacher Flower" a reward? So that I can be more-- [sharp muffled inhale].

Before he can finish saying what he wants to, I smile and kiss him.

The music stops and is gradually replaced by our hearts beating. His hands slowly tighten around my waist and he deepens the kiss.

It's slow, lingering, laced with a hint of fruit candy.

I have a hunch that our band will be the sweetest.

-

After playing with the other instrument for a while, I look at Kiro belatedly.

MC: Wait, we don't have a band name yet. That should be the first step to forming a band!

Following my words, his eyes grow distant, as if in thought, and finally land on a blackout curtain--

Seems that, due to the passing of the years, the curtains have several tears and small holes. But they still are able to let the sunlight slip in and sprinkle a little "starlight".

Kiro: How about calling it Twinkle?

MC: Huh? Is it that simple?

Seeing him nod seriously, I smile and return to the piano again, playing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star".

MC: Then this can be used as our "theme song"~

Kiro: Yeah, but since we're going to be an awesome band, there can be a little more variety to it.

Kiro picks up the guitar at his feet and skillfully strums the strings.

Once the cheerful "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" variation ends, I tentatively blink at him.

MC: How about it?

I thought that I would get some compliments, but instead he smiles and shakes his head.

Kiro: There is indeed nothing wrong with the pitch and rhythm, but we're here to play music, not take an exam or perform at a concert.

Kiro: Can you relax a little more? Don't be music's best student, be its best friend.

MC: I...

Seeming to sense my confusion, he smiles and pinches my face.

Kiro: Don't worry, "Teacher Flower" is here. I'll definitely have a way to get you completely immersed in the world of music.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 3]

In the span of the next few days, Kiro does not seem to have thought of a solution.

Seeing as we were in no hurry, we went along with our original plans of designing outfits and having dinner with some people in the industry who had made prior appointments with us.

In our spare time, we would go back to the "music store" to practice, and even put a mattress in the attic for us to lie on at any time.

MC: ...Why am I still getting it wrong even after practicing for so long?

Looking at the black and white keys in front of me, I pout and tap on them twice.

Kiro: You seem very depressed, Miss Chips. Would you like me to help you?

The joking inquiry comes from the attic, accompanied by the creaking sound of wooden boards. I turn around and find Kiro leaning on the armrest, a smile on his face.

MC: Very much so... I had originally intended to get an early start and relieve you of some of the pressure.

MC: But I realized that music arrangement and theory are much too difficult for me.

Kiro: I admit that they are difficult, but why do you need to master them?

The dazzling lights of a car happen to pass by the window, causing me to blink in a daze.

MC: Because... I want to make that dream a reality and have an awesome performance with you.

Kiro: [in mock despair] Oh, I've done it now. It seems that I've unknowingly infected you with my perfectionism and obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Although he says this, he approaches me with a smile and leans down to look at me.

Kiro: Usually you tell me to do one thing at a time, but that doesn't seem to apply to you.

MC: I...

Taking note of my stunned expression, he unconsciously caresses my cheek with his fingertips.

Kiro: It doesn't matter. I'm going to give you a doze of "strong medicine".

His left hand that he had kept hidden behind his back suddenly comes forward and sways something in front of my eyes. Upon closer inspection, I realize it is a bottle filled with wine.

MC: ...Is that wine??

MC: Is this your way of helping me relax? By getting me drunk?

Kiro: Don't worry, it won't do anything to upset your stomach. This is a wine I specially concocted to get you drunk at most.

I take a whiff and smell the sweet and fruity aroma, but finding it too strong for me, I quickly shake my head.

MC: No no no...

MC: I have no idea what I'll do once I get drunk. It would be bad if I just played things at random.

Kiro: So what if you did? Who said that music has to have a standard answer?

He walks to the table nearby and takes out two glasses, slowly pouring the wine into them.

Kiro: As a musician, I promise you - as long as you do it from the heart, your music will be given a soul the moment it appears.

Kiro: Think about it, when you happily play the notes, there'll be several little chips jumping in the air. How cute would that be?

I giggle and simply take the glass from him and drink it. The sweetness of citrus and the warmth of the liquid mixes together and slowly spreads throughout my chest.

MC: It's delicious. I never thought that the Kitchen Killer had the skills to be a bartender~

As soon as I finish speaking, Kiro slightly narrows his eyes and puts on a brighter smile.

Kiro: Right. But just now, this Kitchen Killer thought of adding another ingredient to the mix. That should make it a lot more delectable.

MC: What?

Kiro: What do you think about green apple?

As he finishes speaking, he takes a sip of the wine in his hand, then bends down and kisses me.

His breath and the wine come at the same time, and caught off guard, I subconsciously grab the lapel of his clothes.

Kiro triumphantly raises his eyebrows, then grabs a hold of my waist, and forces me to stand up and get closer to him.

Then he goes deeper and deeper, his lips and tongue intertwining with mine over and over again, along with his scorching breaths as he gently bites me.

I subconsciously raise my head to take in the air outside, but he gently latches onto the back of my neck, and forces me to look directly into those eyes.

I feel like I'm being dragged into a whirlpool by the deep sea. Helplessly, I cling to his neck and "complain" in a low voice.

MC: ...You stingy fellow, you won't even let me get in a word with you.

Kiro: [softly] Is it? Obviously, I just want to you to get a taste of the improved flavor.

MC: Lies, where is the green apple flavor?

Kiro: Well, I just finished one candy, and it was green apple flavored. You must not have been looking seriously just now. Look again carefully.

He lowers his head and takes another sip of the wine, once again taking up all of my breath.

As if he really wishes for me to taste that tangy flavor, his dexterous tongue circles around in my mouth, leaving indelible traces.

The lack of oxygen quickly causes the alcohol to diffuse into the air, leaving my body feeling hot all over as I weakly cling to his shoulders.

MC: B-But just... don't forget what we're going to do tonight...

I softly beg for mercy, but all I receive is Kiro's low laughter. He then hugs me and sits down on the piano bench.

Kiro: [chuckles] Of course I haven't forgotten tonight's plan of relaxing and enjoying everything... whether it be music or happiness.

I am unable to see his expression clearly, but from the brisk tone of his voice, I can tell he is smiling happily.

He reaches out his hand from behind me and gently touches the black and white keys.

Kiro: As long as we combine notes one after another, we can create the world.

Kiro: Such as sunshine... forests... flowers...

Kiro: Or a house... a chimney... a clothes rack...

At this instance, he pauses, raises his hand by half an inch and hovers it over the keys.

Kiro: Of course, the most important thing is-- Kiro and MC...

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the world becomes quiet and a chord blooms into my ears.

His hands jumps around the keyboard, the brisk notes converging into particles of light and shadow in my mind, like the sunlight swaying amongst the shadows of the trees.

The atmosphere becomes light and fluttery, luring people to get closer to these lights and shadows, and run with them.

So I get out from under his arms and pick up the guitar beside him, strumming the strings with a grin as he looks at me, amazed.

MC: I can create anything, right?

Kiro: Of course. You are the master of this world.

After saying that, he starts playing along with me, playing a melody as light as stepping on the clouds.

I immediately shake my head, then bend my knees and strum the guitar vigorously.

MC: No, no, I don't want clouds, I want us to roll on the lawn--

Taking note of my unhesitant request, he raises his eyebrows slightly and plays a burst of warm and playfully skipping notes, making the countless blades of grass bend down.

Kiro: Then I want the sun to rain.

As he speaks, he tilts his body to the high-pitched area, and quickly moves two keys with his fingertips. The patter of sounds fills the air.

MC: But we don't plan on taking shelter from the rain, because...

I deliberately stop strumming for a beat and wink at Kiro.

MC: We haven't had enough fun~

My body starts to dance to the increasingly cheerful melody, as if I was gleefully letting go of all my inhibitions, and I am unable to stop myself from bending down and rubbing against the tip of his nose as I pluck the strings of the guitar.

Waves of heat steam across my face, but also tempt me to indulge in this even more brazenly.

Kiro's forehead is also wet with a fine layer of sweat, and something seems to shine in his naked eyes.

Our breathing gets faster and faster as the notes flow within the melody in a simple and profound manner, making our emotions a bit explicit and leaving our mouths dry.

At some point, the intertwining sun and rain seem to stop, leaving only a lingering pattering of sounds in the air.

However, our souls still seem to be connected. I slowly put down the guitar and walk forward, following my heart's desire, and finally come to a stop in front of Kiro.

The dim yellow chandelier sways in the wind, causing the light in those blue eyes to flicker again and again.

I don't think I've ever been as exposed to him than I am in this moment. And the same can be said about him.

And just as I'm about to give in to my desire to kiss him, he lifts my chin first, and a burning hot temperature follows suit.

I drown in that deep sea all at once as I unabashedly wrap my arms around his neck to absorb the oxygen that I longed for.

But this doesn't seem to satisfy him. His scorching breath lingers on every contour of my body, and the constant numbness makes me impatiently bite his neck.

His muffled groan falls into my ears and is then followed by his palms, grasping a hold of my thighs and picking me up.

I instantly lose my center of gravity and am unable to keep myself from opening my eyes and meeting that ravenous gaze.

Kiro: There's one more thing I forgot to tell you.

Kiro: Anything that makes a sound... can be turned into a melody.

As he says this, he lays me down on the table beside me, and then kisses me hard.

He specifically picks out those sensitive spots and rubs them all over, as if wanting to amplify my senses to the limit.

The sounds of hair brushing against the wooden table, the sound of paper sticking to the skin, and the rustling sounds of a plug being pulled all fall clearly into my ears, stirring up a numbing ripple.

They sultrily and ambiguously meld together, playing a secret melody.

Kiro: [whispers sexily] Do you hear this song that can only belong to you and me?

His voice is hoarse and the corners of his narrow eyes are slightly red, obviously stained with desire.

I see myself in his eyes as though I have intertwined myself with him.

Kiro: [in a breathy voice x1] ...Why do I still feel like something's not enough?

MC: ...Even if you ask that, I still...

Our words are muffled between our lips and teeth, and the sounds mix together, making everything feel comfortable. He suddenly smiles and unconsciously moves a little closer to me.

Kiro: [x2] Then let's not stop this song.

As he speaks, he laces his fingers through the gaps between mine and presses them together on the table. Then, he leans forward and kisses me.

The lights on the ceiling intertwine with his figure, blurring my vision from time to time.

Kiro: [voice almost TREMBLING from the passion] I would also like to add more of your voice.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Part 2: Here

[nightfang22]

Get Angry

As a special treat for my friend @p34ch-tr33 who always pulls out my best work! Enjoy!

TW:Angst,smut insinuation,alcohol,18+

A tear runs down my cheek as I blow out the last candle on the cake. 20 candles nearly completely melted, wax mixed with icing, I sat alone in the dark as I waited for him. He should've been here 5 hours ago. Kenny promised this year would be different. He promised. I scroll through my Snapchat just looking at people's stories and watching dog videos. I clicked on Stan's story expecting to see cute photos of Sparky or videos with Wendy. What I saw broke my heart. Stan's story was filled with nothing but videos of a party at Kenny's house. I could see Wendy and Bebe taking shots and Cartman and Heidi making out. Butters was hitting on some poor drunk girl in the corner and Kyle was playing video games. Craig and Tweek were watching Jimmy break dance on a cardboard box in the middle of the room. I choked back a hard sob stuck in my throat but ultimately I failed. Then I remembered what my father told me when I was little: Don't cry, get mad. And when you get mad, get even. I picked myself up and brushed myself off, tossing the ruined cake in the garbage before fixing my makeup. I grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to Kenny's house.

Ever since Kenny's dad got that oil rig job and is never home anymore, Kenny hasn't really been Kenny. We used to celebrate each other's birthdays together all the time when we were kids but he's missed the last couple of years. He always made it up to me in the end but this time he completely forgot and didn't invite me to his party! I'll show him. I pull into Kenny's driveway and get out of my car. I knock on the door but there's no answer. 'Maybe the music is too loud for them to hear anything else?' So I knock again but louder. Stan opens the door looking back over his shoulder laughing at something before turning his head to face me. His eyes widen in shock. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?" He has a glass in his hand that has a golden brown liquid in it. I relieve him of his glass and down it. 'Hm, Kenny's dad's Scotch from the fancy liquor cabinet.' "I just came to say hi to Kenny and to remind him of the date. You know, since he didn't invite me to his little shindig." I said through gritted teeth. Stan is just staring at me dumbfounded before saying, "What? Kenny told us you couldn't make it cause you were sick. Everyone was asking about you." I smile softly and hug him. That makes me feel a teensy bit better. "Thank you, Stan. Where's Kenny?" I ask, my voice now calm and soft. Stan steps aside to let me in and points over to his dad's recliner where Kenny is sat watching Kyle play Nintendo. I give Stan back the empty glass and march over to Kenny. I stand in front of him, blocking his view of Kyle's game. I see his eyes widen for but a moment before I kick him square in the junk. "KENNY MCCORMICK, YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND AND BIGGEST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER MET AND THAT SAYS SOMETHING CONSIDERING WE'VE KNOWN CARTMAN OUR WHOLE GODDAMN LIVES!" I scream at him in front of everyone. He's not wearing his parka so I have a full view of his face and just how red his cheeks are from embarrassment. The music suddenly stops and the whole room falls silent as everyone has their eyes on us. "NOT ONLY DO YOU THROW A PARTY AND TELL EVERYONE I'M SICK BUT YOU FORGET MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROW, YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT! I HOPE YOU GET TOSSED ONTO A PIKE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I THINK THAT KENNY KABOBS SOUND PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW!" And I kick him square in the junk one more time. Just for good measure, of course. "Okay everyone, let the party continue! It is my birthday, after all!" I slit my eyes in Kenny's direction when I say the word 'birthday'.

     The music starts up again and everyone goes back to partying like nothing even happened. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a heavy drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I roll my eyes sighing. Spinning around, I say "Kenny, I'm not sorry for kicking you in the balls and I'm especially not sorry for crashing your party, either." But when I spin around I am not met with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. I am met with messy black hair peeking out of a cute blue hat. "I'm not sorry you did either of those things, too. He really deserved it." It's Craig. I look up at his rather tall frame. Craig has towered over me since we were little. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kenny." He fakes being wounded in the chest. "Ouch, (Y/N). That bad, huh?" I could only laugh at his cheesy joke and brush his arm as I reply, "Nah, you're way cuter." His cheeks turn bright pink and that's when I notice Kenny watching out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around Craig's neck and pull him in. We start to makeout and he has me pressed up against the wall. I break away only to pull him up the staircase to Kenny's bedroom. I open the door as Craig takes off his shirt. I turn to him as he pins me to the door, shutting it. He pulls my shirt off and unclasps my bra. He moves me to the bed and takes his hat off, placing it gently atop my head. Removing my skirt and undergarments, Craig kisses his way up my legs before he has me pinned beneath him. I never thought that my first time would be like this. As a revenge tactic with someone I didn't love. Especially not with Craig Tucker. He's leaning down to kiss me again when the door slams wide open. Kenny bursts through the door and pulls Craig off of me by the back of his head, slamming him into the wall. I jump up to my elbows. It appears that Craig is rendered unconscious. He's still breathing at least. I can see his chest moving rhythmically. I stare at Kenny as his head turns to me, his breathing hot and heavy. I can see why. He has a raging boner in his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and crawls on top of me. We make very intense and intimate eye contact for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have forgotten." I clear my throat. "Or lied to everyone about you being sick. Can you please forgive me?" Kenny gives me his best puppy eyes, the ones that always got me to do whatever he wanted when we were little and even still to this day. "Okay, fine. I'll forgive you." He smiled at me softly kissing me on the lips. "You weren't really about to give away what's mine to Craig, right?" I shake my head while giggling. He chuckles. "Good. Now let me give you your birthday gift." He strips his bottoms and I flip him over. "Let me." I whisper. I get real close to his face before I whisper, "Nice try, asshole." I sit back up and slap him across the face. "You could never have me no matter how bad you want me, McCormick." I spit in his face as I got up, Craig's hat still atop my head. I saunter over to the door taking a final turn to look at Kenny. "You'd just die on me anyways, you fucking flip phone." Those were the last words I ever spoke to Kenny McCormick as I left him laying there confused and sexually frustrated with his cock out in a room with an unconscious Craig.

Word Count:1,358

[greazyfloz]

That Nico angst was amazing, could we possibly be getting a part 2?

Part 1

I Heard What You Said Pt. 2

I know Nico definitely was not having as much fun as he intended to tonight since he had been blowing up my phone all night. It took every inch of me not to answer his calls or texts, but I managed. Around 2:30 in the morning as I lay in bed listening to my phone buzz beside me I finally decided I had enough, and turn off my phone completely.

After throwing my phone on my nightside table I turned my back and tried falling asleep but as I lay in bed I feel uncomfortable and embarrassed by what my boyfriend had shared with his teammates about me. I'm more embarrassed about my lacking ability to please him.

The next thing I know the morning light was shining into my eyes as I wake up from the sound of someone knocking on my apartment door. I groan as I push myself up and out of the bed before making my way out of my bedroom and across the apartment to the front door.

When I reached the door, I checked the peak hole first and saw exactly who I thought. I look into the mirror beside the door and brush the messy hair away with my fingers before opening the door and facing Nico. I don't greet him through I just stare at him waiting for him to start.

"I- uh- Can I come in?" Nico asks shyly as he stands in the hallway outside of my apartment. He looks down the hall at my neighbours down the hall walking down towards the elevators.

Instead of answering I just move to the side and let him make his way inside. I shut the door behind him then turn and make my way past him as I walk to the living room. I sit on on of my couches and Nico sits on the other so he is sat facing me.

"I'm sorry" Nico says and I just nod my head slightly waiting for him to continue but he doesn't.

"That's it?" I ask him curiously. He looks as if he wants to say more. and I can tell he is embarrassed but I don't know if it is about his actions or if he got caught.

"No" he says as he shifts a little in his seat. He reaches for my hand but I deny him as I begin rubbing my hand up and down my thigh instead and Nico brings his hand back to him awkwardly. "I don't know why I said that, I really don't. I made it sound-" he starts but stops thinking about a word to say, "worse than it is"

I nod my head expecting him to stay more but we awkwardly sit in silence a little longer, until I finally stand. "Wha- where are you going?" Nico asks as I stood to make my way to the bedroom.

"I was going to go get ready. I don't have time to sit here in silence with you all day" I say looking down at him as he still sits on the couch.

"No, wait. Please. I really don't have an explanation for anything I said other than I really shouldn't have said it, and really it wasn't even true. You satisfy me in every single way, I don't know why I was compelled to say that" he says standing up to face me

"Obviously it was true, that isn't something you make up" I say and Nico shakes his head no as he brings his arms up again to rub my arm. "I don't care if you don't think I'm good, but I'd appreciate if you didn't tell everyone of your team. And-" I start but stop as I start to feel slightly embarrassed from the whole situation.

"And?" Nico says looking down at me with sad eyes that match mine.

"I don't believe that I satisfy you at all now"

Nico brings me into his chest and I wrap my arms around his waist as his wrap around my body. I feel him press a kiss in my hair before resting his chin on top of my head, "I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot. Please believe me when I tell you that I love you."

I take a deep breath then push away from his chest and look at him, I can't stay mad at him because I do love him and I believe he loves me, "You are an idiot" I say as I start to form a smile on my face.

"Please forgive me" he says as a smile starts to form on his face, "I can't live without this beautiful smile in my life" he tells me. I stand on my tippy toes and place a kiss on his lips and he kisses me back. The kiss was short, Nico tried to deepen it I pushed away.

"Fine" I say followed by a giggle.

[cringe-but-proud]

I read your wonka fic and wanna say that it’s amazing for your first time writing x reader! I was hoping that you can do a miles morales x reader where reader miles best friend and is a fan of Spider-Man (reader don’t know miles is Spider-Man) and readers birthday is coming up so miles knowing how much reader loves Spider-Man decides to do a guest appearance at their birthday while being Spider-Man. Reader is happy Spider-Man is at their party but is sad that miles isn’t there. Was hoping it can end with Miles revealing he’s Spider-Man and confessing to reader!

Thanks for the request! I had fun writing this one!

Miles Morales x gn!Reader

Warnings: A little cursing, reader being sad for a min

A/n: Just wanna let everyone know that my asks are open 😈

"Dude, I swear to God, he was right next to my apartment. Right there! If I had been looking out the window, I totally would've seen him!" You spoke excitedly as you showed Miles a video of the infamous Spiderman swinging past your apartment building.

"Yeah, that's cool. That's really cool." Miles nodded.

"Do you think I'll ever get to meet him? Like, for real? Face to face?" You asked as you turned the phone back to yourself, rewatching the video a few more times.

"I mean, he's in Brooklyn a lot, so..." He shrugged.

"Yeah... It's weird, I feel like everyone I know has had some sort of encounter with Spiderman, but I've never even spotted him in person."

That was true and it was intentional. Whenever miles was being spiderman, he did everything in his power to avoid you. He liked you a lot and you were his best friend. If he ever had to interact with you as spiderman, he'd probably get nervous, slip up, and blow his cover.

But, he did feel bad. You were obsessed with Spiderman. And he'd heard over and over again about how badly you wanted to meet him.

"Do you think he does cameos or anything? Maybe I could buy one of those for myself with all the birthday money I'm about to get tonight." You suggested with a chuckle.

"Nah, I don't think he does those."

You sighed and began to go on a rant about how much money spiderman could make from doing something like that.

But, Miles wasn't really listening. He was starting to get an idea. And if he wanted to follow through with the idea, he'd have to leave. Like, right now.

He stood up. "I gotta go."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah, I just remembered, uh, I gotta finish doing my laundry."

You blinked. "Alright, dude. See you later."

This was gonna be the perfect birthday present. All he had to do was stick to the plan.

Miles was going to come to your party as spiderman. He'd take some pictures with you, wish you a happy birthday, and try to keep all the talking to a minimum.

Perfect.

Your party was on the rooftop of your apartment building, which worked out perfectly for him. He arrived fashionably late, when the party was already in full swing, and he was quickly spotted.

"Yo, is that Spiderman?" A small crowd quickly formed around Miles as he searched for you.

"Yeah, yeah. I, uh, thought I'd swing by wish a happy birthday to... Y'know, Whoever." Miles said, trying to act nonchalant.

"Spiderman?!" You were suddenly standing right in front of him, eyes wide, mouth agape.

"Hey! Happy birthday!" He said to you happily.

"How'd you know this party was for me?"

Shit.

"Uh..." Miles shrugged. "Spidey-sense?"

"Cool..." You smiled. "I'm such a big fan. You- You're like- I mean, you're you. You're Spiderman." You gushed. "Could I take a picture with you?"

"Yeah, for sure." This was going better than expected.

"Can I get one next?" Some random guy piped up.

"Uh... Sure." Miles shrugged.

"Could I get one too?"

"... Yeah?"

Ok, this wasn't part of the plan. Miles was now stuck awkwardly taking pictures with your friends and family.

And where were you? He hadn't seen you in a while and this was YOUR party!

Should he be worried? Well, whether he should or shouldn't didn't really matter. Because he WAS worried.

Miles slipped away from the line of people wanting pictures to look for you. He found you sitting behind your apartment building on some steps.

He cleared his throat. "Hey, uh... Why aren't you up at the party?" He asked as he walked over to sit next to you.

You glanced over and straightened your posture nervously. "Oh, I just... My best friend isn't here and I'm starting to get sort of worried." You shrugged.

Oh, no. This wasn't part of the plan.

"Well, I'm sure he's fine, maybe he just..." Miles trailed off.

"Maybe he just didn't wanna come?" You suggested.

"No! No! I wasn't saying that! I mean, maybe he's just busy."

"Yeah, but he would've texted me if something came up." You shook your head.

Miles was panicking. Spiderman was at your party! That was supposed to make you happy! He didn't think you'd get sad about his absence.

"Well, I'm sure he's got a good reason for not being here." Miles said. "He definitely didn't just ditch you because... I mean, this party is awesome. And you're awesome... I mean, you seem awesome. From what I've seen." He was supposed to keep talking to a minimum. What was he doing?!

"You're probably right. I just wish he could be here, y'know?"

"I'm sure Miles wishes he could be here right now too."

"Yeah." You paused. "Wait, how'd you know his name?"

"Uh-"

"And how do you know my best friend's a 'he'?"

"Well, obviously-"

"Why'd you even come to my party in the first place?"

Well, shit. Miles didn't know how to talk his way out of this.

"I... Um..." You looked at his with narrowed eyes. "Alright, don't freak out, but... I..." He took off his mask. "It's me. I'm Spiderman."

Your jaw dropped.

...

"Please, say something." Miles said.

"Are you kidding me?!" You laughed. "You're- You?! How did I never figure it out?!"

"Cause I was good at hiding it?"

"Why did you come to the party like this?"

"Cause I know you love Spiderman, and I know you've wanted to meet him, and I wanted to make you happy!" Miles says. "But, I... I didn't think you'd get sad about me not being here. Me as in Miles." He said.

You paused. "You know, you didn't need to do the whole Spiderman thing for me."

"Yeah... But, I did." He shrugged.

"Why, though?"

"Cause I like you."

"What?"

Oh, God. This was like a nightmare. Whatever, no going back now.

"I like you." He repeated. "Like, not just in a platonic way."

"Oh."

...

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" He began.

"No, no! I like you too!" You quickly reassured as you chuckled. "I was just surprised."

Miles was surprised for a moment, but then he smiled in relief. "That's cool."

"Yeah." You rested your head on his shoulder. "It's cool." The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. "Thanks for coming, man."

"You saying that to Miles or to Spiderman?" He teased.

"Shut up." You chuckled.

This was a nice birthday gift.

[scarisd3ad]

Promptober day 20 - having an encounter with the hand

Pairing - Hayley (talk to me) x gn!reader

Warnings - blood, possession, demon ghost trying to kill reader

Promptober ‘23 masterlist

Main masterlist

Taglist

"I'll do it" I say as I push myself onto the edge of the couch. Hayley my partners brows furrow together before a smirk pulls on their lips. I have never really experienced the hand, Hayley and all our friends said it's euphoric, that it felt good. I never really believed that it was real either so why not at least try it. if it was real there wasn't any risk other than full on demonic possession and Hayley always only did 90 seconds so there was no way. "c'mon sit, sit" I stand up and walking over to the little chair they had set up in front of a table. "alright hands up" I raise my hands and Hayley wraps a chain around my torso. "alright" Hayley kneels down in front of me and lights the small tea candles.

"Now hold the hand..." I've watched enough people play around with this hand at parties to know what to do. I hold the hand like I'm shaking it, my eyes still on Hayley. I turn my head intending to look at everyone who was sitting on the couch in front of me but instead I'm met with a man. a man with a large nasty slit across his throat and both eyes gouged out. I let out a gasp as I jump "holy fuck what is that?!" I cry out as I quickly turn my head so I'm looking at Hayley and not whatever the man was in front of me. my chest heaves as tears spring into my eyes. everyone around me is laughing as they pull out their phones. their laughing while I'm going through a traumatic experience. their laughs are booming as a tear falls down my cheek and into my mouth. "Hey, you don't have to look at it" Hayley's hand comes and presses against my arm that isn't holding the hand. their hand against my arm calms me down. my breathing slowing down as Hayley's thumb caresses my arm. I nod as Hayley's hand comes up and wipes the tear that had fallen down my cheek.

"now say talk to me"

"talk to me"

I let out a gasp as my head is pushed back, it felt like something was pushing me out of my own body. then I'm stood in the corner and the ghost? demon? was sat in the chair I was sat in taking my place. I can't hear anything; my ears are ringing but I can tell everyone is laughing. it doesn't feel good like Hayley said it was it felt violating and embarrassing as I watch Hayley and their friend play around with the ghost in my body. then everyone pauses staring at the ghost in fear. I can tell the man is laughing by the look on his face and the way his chest rises and falls. then all of a sudden, he's banging his head against the table, trying to kill me? Hayley sprints up from the place they were sitting grabbing both my shoulders to keep the ghost from doing any more harm. they are shouting I can tell; they're shouting at one of their friends who runs over and grabs the hand. he pulls it out of my hand and blows out the candle.

then I'm back in my body again. blood is streaming out of a gash in my head and pooling in my eyes. my breathing is labored as I look around at everyone around me who are laughing still recording me as blood runs down my face. I could've very much died but they're all laughing and recording me like it's some kind of game. red hot pain blooms across my forehead as tears fall down my cheeks. "ge-get me out" I stutter out, Hayley gestures to their friend to untie me. I feel someone walk up behind me and pulls the chain that was around me. I think they expect me to fall right into their arms, but I don't, I stand up wiping the blood that had run down my face. 'Hey y/n!" Hayley grabs my hand, but I pull it out of their grip. "Dont-dont talk to me." I mumble.

I wasnt that I was mad at them because of what happened to me, I was mad they were even playing around with that thing. I was mad that I basically humiliated myself in front of everyone. Hayley follows after me as I walk out of the room they were playing with the hand in and into the area where the rest of the party was. I walk into the bathroom and lock the door behind me. Hayley bangs at the door while I stare at myself in the mirror. there is a large gash on my forehead, and blood is still streaming out of it and down my face.

"y/n come on let me in!" I let out a sigh as I reluctantly unlock the door. i take the role of toilet paper and wet it as Hayley walks in. they close the door and lock it behind them as I dampen the toilet paper and scrub the dried-up blood off of my face.

"Are you alright, let me take you to the hospital?'

-

"how'd this happen?" the doctor asks as she stitches up my forehead. both Hayley and I look at each other like 'what should we say' because the doctor would probably throw us both in an asylum if we said i got possessed by a spirit. "I-I tripped."

Taglist

@leonkennedylefthand @maexyn @truecobblepot @mfnqueen1 @zoey5252 @nezukos-number1fan @bxbyyyjocelyn @dr3amyk1ng