#and then i thought. you know what would make him worse. if the guy was a shapeshifter. shifted into kenobi.

[nonotnolan]

Guess Who - College Edition

The week after the holidays was always a stressful time for Tyler. It had a lot going for it, of course— school hadn’t started yet, the parties would soon be picking up in full swing— but the Greek Life Traditions had the potential to be hell for a closeted gay man such as himself. Sigma Epsilon Chi had a tradition that when school wasn't in session, a handful of guys would swap bodies in pairs for the week. Everyone would try to guess who had swapped with who, and though it was only for bragging rights, some guys took it very seriously.

Once he knew that he would only be guessing, he had to admit it was actually kind of fun trying to tell who was themselves and who was pretending to be someone else. The anxiety happened when the participants were still being decided. Some of his fellow frat brothers were legacy members whose bodies were just as average as his own, but just as many of them were attractive, athletic men who rushed for the sake of the social status. The thought of having to spend time in a body far better than his own… sure, it was exciting, but how could he possibly abstain from the temptation for that long?

Well, he was about to find out. Ethan had tapped him out to be one of the swapped, and he was about to find out whose body he would be taking for the week. It wasn’t the first time that Tyler was walking down to the basement where the spell circle was carved into the concrete floor, but somehow it never got any easier. Last time he swapped with Devin, an engineering student whose body wasn’t too much of a change from his own, but he had a feeling that his luck was about to run out.

“I’m swapping with Tyler? Hell yeah, we’re gonna fool everybody!”

He was swapping with Blaine. Of course he was swapping with Blaine. The man was one of the hottest guys in the fraternity, and the unknowing recipient of Tyler’s biggest crush. He exuded confidence without even trying, and the way that the muscle definition of his arms bulged out of his sleeves never failed to get Tyler excited. Not that Blaine usually wore shirts around the house— it was rare to see him wearing anything that covered his chest unless he was having to go to class. His shoulders were impossibly wide, and his body was a temple of muscle. Worse still, he was so friendly and easygoing that he had no idea how embarrassed Tyler felt whenever he was near him. There was no way he would be able to spend time in that body without wanking himself senseless. “Fuck me, I’m going to have to swap bodies with Blaine.”

Blaine looked at him with a bit of a hurt expression on his face. “What, you don’t want to swap bodies with me? Come on, Tyler, this body is great!”

Shit, had he said that out loud? “No, I didn’t mean… of course it’s great! It’s just that, your body is so good it’s kind of intimidating. It makes me feel like if I eat junk food in your body, I’ll ruin it,” Tyler said, rushing to tell him a white lie. "It's good, it's just... it's a lot."

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Blaine said, patting him on the shoulder. “We’re just two guys swapping bodies. I can go a few days without working out at the gym. And hey, it’s not like I’m new to this whole body swapping thing. If you wanna get laid while you’re in my body-- honestly, I take it as a compliment.” He gave Tyler a playful push on the shoulder. “You know I’m gonna try to do the same, right? You’re a good looking guy! I’m taking you out to the bars to get drunk, and I bet I’ll score while I’m there. It’s still a vacation week, everyone is looking to get laid.”

Tyler just stood there, blinking, as he tried to comprehend what Blaine had just said. Empty compliments aside, had he really granted him permission to do anything he wanted? He barely registered Ethan guiding him over to the spell circle and uttering the incantation. Blaine had just given him permission to get laid inside of his body.

Tyler rummaged through Blaine’s closet, playing dress-up with his new muscular frame. Most of the man’s wardrobe consisted of sweatpants, gym shorts, and free t-shirts. It wasn’t surprising, but it was disappointing. He was planning to dropbox some photos of Blaine’s body to his own personal account for later usage, and he was hoping for a few sophisticated outfits to contrast Blaine’s gym bro vibes. He was also planning to take Blaine up on his offer to get laid, just… perhaps in a way that he hadn’t intended when he gave Tyler blank permission. He pulled up the Google Play store on Blaine’s phone, and searched for Grindr only to discover it had already been downloaded. His heart started to race faster— he hadn’t seen the app on any of the main screens, did that mean Blaine had hidden it away in a folder somewhere? Surely it was more likely that someone else had downloaded it during a prior swap? Well, there was only one way to find out. He took a deep break and clicked ‘open’.

He couldn’t believe his luck— it was an active profile. Bi_greekguy_Est_02. No profile photo, and a description that just read “discreet, message for pics”. This changed everything. He absolutely had to fuck his own body. But how could he pull Blaine into a private discussion without being suspicious? The two of them never really crossed paths, so anything direct would be incredibly suspicious. He could pretend to ask for help, but it would have to be something Tyler could actually help with. He had fixed Jacob’s computer once, and Blaine didn’t have a reputation for being tech savvy… that could work? It was worth the risk. Tyler walked downstairs to his body’s room, enjoying the heft of his shoulders as he walked. “Is Tyler in there?” he said, casually knocking on the doorframe. “I’ve got an issue with my laptop, and Jacob said you might be able to fix it.”

Blaine emerged from the room, glaring at him in concern but otherwise playing along. “I… yeah, Blaine I can take a look at it,” he said. “Lead the way, I guess.” He followed Tyler back to his body’s room, and made sure that the door was shut before beginning to yell at him. “What in the hell are you thinking, dude! I never come down to the basement! What in the hell could be so important that you— ohh.” Tyler responded by showing him the Grindr profile he’d found. He crossed his arms, scowling defensively. “I… yeah, okay. So what, I’m bisexual. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that I’m a gay man,” Tyler said. “If I had known I wasn’t the only non-straight guy here, I would have tried my luck ages ago. I know you want to win this weekend, but some things are more fun than trying to fool the rest of the guys. I don’t care if we get identified immediately, as long as we have fun. I thought you were out of my league. I still think you’re out of my league. But now that I’m inside of you? You can bet your ass I’ll be taking advantage of every minute.” He flexed for emphasis, watching the definition on Blaine’s arm.

Blaine laughed. “Well, if we’re being honest… I’ve always thought you looked like a cute bottom, but I didn’t know if you were gonna get offended if I asked. I didn’t want to risk my reputation as the macho gym bro to ask you if you were gay. You want to know why I was excited to swap with you? I was excited to end up in your body so that I could take it out to all the gay bars. I’m gonna get your ass railed so hard that it’ll still be sore after we swap back.”

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I… you thought I was cute?”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Blaine said, as he started to blush. “You don’t have to be aggressively masculine to be desirable. We are absolutely becoming fuck buddies once this is over. You can be my tutor if you want to keep it discreet.”

Tyler pressed down on Blaine’s shoulders, taking advantage of his body’s light stature to lower him to his knees. “Who said anything about waiting until this is over?” Tyler started to slowly untie his sweatpants, letting the unspoken tension build as he adjusted the waistband of his boxers. “Do you really expect me to believe you haven’t fantasized about getting fucked by your own cock?”

Blaine looked at the eight inches of erect cock positioned a few inches in front of his face, and then looked up into the eyes of his body. He couldn’t help but laugh. “We’re not going to make it out to the bars this weekend, are we?”

[g4rvez-r3id]

Back To You

Ex! Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

Synopsis: Spencer finally realizes that he wants you to stay and that he loves you and he proves to you just how much he does.

Category: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established past relationship between spencer and reader, spencer being a lil shit, reader being depressed, cursing, mentions of Lauren arc, maeve arc, Grey’s Anatomy spoilers 4x17 “Freedom” and 11x21 “How to Save A Life”, heartfelt talks, love confessions, kissing, smut warnings: soft!dom spencer, cunnilingus, spencer is packing, praise, he whimpers (idc WHAT y’all say), unprotected sex, creampie (find a better word for this pls), a lil bit of aftercare and that should be it(?)

Author’s Note: here it is, the long awaited part three! sorry y’all i lowkey struggled to write this lmao, i hope y’all like this end to the 3-parter hehe 🤭 hope it was worth the wait! <3

part one part two

Spencer Reid was utterly bewildered when he headed into work that following week and saw that you didn’t show. That wasn’t like you. You were always at work, no matter what. Sure, you had a few sick days here and there and after your guys’ breakup, you’d taken a couple of days off but you were into work about a day or so later.

He chalked it up to your guys’ previous conversation. The one where he pushed you away. And he knew you needed time to deal with that. So, he went straight to work and didn’t think anything more of it.

But then a day turned into a few. And before he could march to Garcia’s lair and ask to track your phone down because he was concerned — and it didn’t help that his mind first went to you lying in a ditch somewhere — he instead went to Hotch and asked if maybe you were taking vacation time.

Thankfully, Hotch had told him that you indeed were taking vacation time but that you hadn’t gone into why you needed to.

But Spencer knew why.

He’d felt horrible about how things ended in the parking garage. He knew it was his fault. And he wanted to go make it right… with you, he just didn’t know how. And Spencer also worried that going to see you would just make things worse.

All he could think back to was when you guys dated. Things seemed so easy being with you. You understood the workload, since you’d had the same job, you let him ramble and listened to him — even when you weren’t dating anymore. And you were just such a good person and a good friend, no matter the cost. (The cost being his relationship with you when you hid the fact that you knew about Emily’s fake death). He didn’t think he’d ever forgive you for that. But now, since Maeve, since everything, since you were there for him, he was willing to finally push all of that aside and beg for you to come back to him.

He knew you were a hard person to convince. You held grudges like he did, which was why you two were in this mess now. But Spencer knew, eventually, you had to come back to work. But then he thought about it.

The chances of you transferring to a different unit, to a different city, maybe even to a different state because you could stand to see him any longer were high. Like previously stated, he knew you. And he knew from when you two were together that once your mind was made up, there was no changing it.

But he didn’t want you to. He hated that now he was realizing this, but now, he had to march down to your apartment and tell you how you truly felt. That he really didn’t want you to go.

And damn it, he was gonna do something about it right now.

You wondered if you’d ever recover from the hard blow Spencer Reid hit you with. It was like a punch in the gut, the fact that he wouldn’t let you in. It was to be expected, that he needed time to recover himself. But it hurt that he pushed you away, even though you knew that would happen.

Since what happened with Spencer in the parking garage, you had called in sick from work for a week or two. It wasn’t until Hotch literally texted you and asked if you were okay and if you wanted to formally request the month off to do so.

You hadn’t gone anywhere, you weren’t on any vacation and you weren’t seemingly blowing off work. You just needed time and right now, seeing Spencer in the office wouldn’t make it any better. This is what you would do, you’d wallow for a short amount of time and then move on.

Although you wouldn’t really move on. You’d pine silently and wait for the day you stop having feelings. It’s what happened with Spencer before and it’d likely happen again.

So, you sat in your living room, re-watching Grey’s Anatomy for about the third time. The men absolutely sucked in this show. You were wearing your sweatpants and a white tank top with your hair looking like a rat’s nest. You showered last night but unfortunately didn’t have the energy to blow dry your hair so it dried over your pillow covers and you woke up the next morning with your hair looking absolutely atrocious. You slumped on the couch, stuffing your face with chocolate ice cream and frowning at the screen as Meredith shows Derek she’s ready to commit to their relationship by designing a floor plan for their home. What’s the point when he’s just gonna die anyways? Someone always dies and someone always gets hurt.

You only planned in sulking on your couch for another day but you certainly didn’t plan on someone knocking outside your door rapidly.

“No one’s home.” You grumbled as you took another scoop of your ice cream from your spoon into your mouth. The knocking continued once more. “Go away!” You demanded. But the knocking wouldn’t let.

So, you groaned, pausing the TV and getting out of your blanket, putting your ice cream to the side and walking towards the door. You look through the peephole and scoff when you see who’s at the door.

“No fucking way.” You say loudly for him to hear. “Y/n, will you just open the door, please?” Spencer pleads with you. “Why should I let you in when you’ve never bothered to let me in?”

Spencer closes his eyes as he curses to himself. He supposed he deserved that. He says your name again as he rests his palm on the wood of the door. “Please, just open the door. Can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about, Spencer?” You question, crossing your arms and you choose to stand your ground, deciding not to open the door. “Open the door, please. I’d rather your neighbors not hear.”

You roll your eyes and decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. You unlock the door and open it. “You have two minutes. Two.” You lean to the side so Spencer can walk in to your apartment.

You quickly check your watch. “You’ve got,” You click your tongue. “A minute and fifty-four seconds remaining. Make it count.”

“I should’ve asked you to stay.” Spencer started. “I should’ve asked you to stay a long time ago. But Maeve… the whole thing with her… it broke me. And maybe I’m beyond repair and maybe I will never be over her, but you should not have to suffer because of it. I’ve… been… an ass.” You knew it was serious when he cursed. He rarely ever did.

“Strong beginning.” You comment, your arms carefully crossed over your chest in defense. Spencer noted to this being something you did every time you two fought.

“I wanted you to stay. Trust me, I did. And still do. But I can’t burden you with this. With my… pain. You’ve done so much for me already. Taking care of me, making sure that I was okay, being there for me when I was heinous to you after our breakup. We barely spoke a word to one another before then and you knew that but you were still there. I guess I just… don’t know how to do this. I… I was given another chance and I… couldn’t save Maeve. I’m scared that if I let you in… it could…” Wind up the same way. He doesn’t finish but you figure that’s what is about to come out of his mouth.

It made sense now. Why he pushed you away. He didn’t owe you an explanation, because you knew why he did. At least, later you did. But your heart couldn’t cope with the heartbreak and you asked for the time off anyways. You needed it. At least, your heart did. You owed her that much.

Spencer looked defeated as he stood in front of you. Like he couldn’t lose the one thing that seemed to fit in the puzzle piece of the void. He knew he didn’t deserve you. And he would be okay with the fact if you had just kicked him out this second.

Instead, you stood in front of him and your shoulders sank out of defense mode and into a shy tone. You thought to yourself for a moment before you turned back to him.

“Spencer,” You start hoarsely and walk towards him slowly and carefully like he was ready to break like glass. “How come you let me into your apartment after what happened to Maeve? You could’ve let JJ in or Garcia.” The burning question lingered for so long, you had taken the opportunity to ask here and now.

His answer was simple. “Because you’ve seen me in that state before. It’s so easy to mask my emotions in front of JJ or Garcia or Morgan. With you, I knew I could feel anything and not have you look at me out of pity. Because you’ve been there before.”

You swallow at that answer as you walk over to him, face to face with him. (Of course, you’re a tad shorter than him so you have to look up at him a bit).

You extend a hand and caress his face with your palm and he nuzzles into it like a cat to a scratch post and closes his eyes tightly as he grabs your wrist, as if he’s wanting to keep your hand there. Your eyes lilt down from his eyelids to his plump lips and you shake your head.

“Where did we go wrong?” You ask in a whisper. And you’re almost afraid for his answer. You’re entirely aware of where you went wrong. It was your fault, after all. And suddenly, you don’t want to hear his answer as he parts his mouth and looks into your eyes. “Never mind,” You say. “I remember.” Your tone is somber.

And Spencer knows why. Sure, he was upset and honestly, he had the right to be after you kept the fact that their close friend had faked her death and you knew about it but didn’t tell him. But he was willing to put that all behind him just to have you back in his life again.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” He said and you looked up at him with wide eyes at this. “It was a long time ago. And I can’t stand not having you in my life any longer.”

“Spencer…”

“I love you.”

The words fall out of his mouth so easily. “I love you, so much. I know we didn’t get it right last time but I want to, this time. I have always loved you.”

“But Maeve?” You ask.

“She was my past and I’ll always be grateful for the time that I had with her, even if it was short.” He admits but he takes your face into his hands, so tenderly as he looks you in the eyes. “But you… I’ll be damned if you’re not my future, Y/n. I’m sorry for how I’ve been. I’m sorry for how I’ve acted. You’re stuck in my head and I just… can’t seem to get you out of it, not that I’ve ever wanted to, anyways. But, Y/n, I’d go back to you. In a heartbeat. And my head is the most clearest it’s ever been so don’t you dare accuse me of just saying this on a whim. Because it’s not a whim.”

Spencer Reid knew you too damn well. He’d broken your heart in two, sure, but when it healed, it continued to still beat for him. You’ve always loved him and you never stopped. He held the darkest parts of you but he never once tried to fix them, he embraced them.

“I love you.” He said, out of breath. “Will you let me love you again?”

You stare up at him and instead of answering, you lean impossibly closer and your lips graze his and you don’t know who leans closer — you or him — (you later confirm that it was definitely him) and your lips connect.

The coffee taste is familiar in his mouth as his lavender scent fills your nostrils and he holds your face closely as he swallows you whole. Eventually, breathing becomes a chore and Spencer takes this opportunity to set you on the kitchen counter as his lips connect with your neck and you close your eyes as you feel all of him all at once.

Your hands explore his back, trying to shake his cardigan off of him — no matter how sexy it looks on him — and you are successful as it comes off of him and lands on the floor, revealing one of his dress shirts underneath.

You’re too busy admiring his body when he takes a moment, looking at you and taking in your features. He’s been here before. You’ve been here before. He’s home.

Realizing what he’s done, he knows you deserve better than being mauled on your marble counter and looks at you for permission before hoisting you to his waist and finds your bedroom, letting you get down and lay on your bed as you look at him, only in love and admiration.

He begins to unbutton his dress shirt and tear off his slacks and you take this opportunity to shake out of your sweatpants and your hair out of your elastic hair band. He’s left in his boxers and you’re left in your top and underwear.

He stares down at you, eyes full of lust and love and he smirks down at you and God, that should not have been so hot.

Spencer leaned down to kiss your lips and then kissed your neck and your collarbone. He shakes you out of your top and kisses each your breasts and then your bare stomach and then gets to his destination and with nimble fingers, pulls at the waistband of your underwear and pulls them off, flinging them across the room and looks at you as your rest yourself on your elbows so you can see the show.

You feel as his hot breath sigh into your pussy and you tilt your head back, dizzy by the sight in front of you. You had to have been dreaming. Surely, this is God’s cruel way of hurting you even more by making you have a vivid sex dream about your ex-boyfriend. (Or was he your boyfriend again?)

But when his tongue licks a stripe over your entrance, it’s confirmed. You’re definitely not dreaming, but definitely on Cloud 9.

He licks at your hole a couple of times before putting his mouth on your clit and making figure-8s with his tongue and your dig your hands into his messy locks and pull him impossibly closer.

And with his hands, he takes them out of his hair and holds them, interlocking his fingers with yours and Jesus, you might cum too soon from the sight alone.

The one thing you always liked about Spencer in bed was his expertise on sex despite not being very experienced himself. After your first time together, you were surprised to find out he’d only done it one other time because of just how damn good he was at it.

You wanted to hold out for him, but the way he looked at you and then moaned into your pussy, “That’s it,” He said. “Cum on my tongue.” It made you cum. Hard. You gasped out his name as he lapped up everything you gave him.

Eventually, he let go of your hands and let you take breather as he climbed over you and stroked your face with his hand. “Are you okay? We can stop here.” Ever the gentleman, even after giving you an orgasm that made you think you’d gone to heaven.

“You are crazy if you think I’m going another day without having your dick inside of me.” You joked and he lightly chuckled as he removed his boxers and you eyed what you were working with.

Also, another reason you were surprised he wasn’t lucky with the ladies in the past before you. He was well endowed despite being lanky and skinny.

“Wait,” You stop before he can press his cock towards your pussy and he divides his attention right onto you, willing to end this right here and now because you stopped him. “Are you okay? Because if you want to stop, we can.”

His heart swells for you even more. He understands why you’re asking him. But he was true to his word. His head was the clearest it’d ever been.

“I’m the greatest I could ever be right now,” Spencer admits. “I’d only ever want to stop if you wanted me to.”

Your eyes bore into him as you smile at him, caressing his face with your index finger, touching his plump bottom lip with it and you see the essence of you on his face, something that reminded yourself that he belonged to you. And only you. “Ready?” He asks, breaking your focus from his lips and you nod as you gasp, “Yes.”

Spencer breaks his focus away from you for a moment as he slides himself towards your entrance. You gasp out as you feel him sheath himself into you and his fingers interlock with yours beside your head as he bottoms out into you. Your body welcomes him and it’s as if your body remembers his.

“God, you’re tight,” He told as he shut his eyes and tilted his own head back because of how good it felt. How good you felt. “You feel so good.”

“So do you.” You manage to get out and his head is tucked into your neck as you hear his whimpers as he rocks into you, his only wish to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel.

He mumbles into your collarbone, trying to take you to the edge with him with his words.

“You take me so well.”

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I love how you tighten around me.”

The praise had made you rock your own hips back into him as you plead, “Harder, Spencer, please.” You beg and he commands at your wish as he fucks you into the bed even harder now. Your whines are more high-pitched as your nails dig into his back as he rails you and your bed begins to creak loudly.

“Let’s—Let’s cum together,” Spencer tells. “Where do you want it?” You gasp, “Inside, inside, please.”

You beg him, wrapping your legs around his torso and he plows into you even harder and then you feel him shudder and that’s send you over the edge as you feel his hot seed paint your insides.

You stare up at the ceiling as he collapses over your body, his hand still tightly perched into yours and his hot breath panting over your collarbone. Your hand rakes over his now sweaty chocolate locks and you hold him close to your body, not ready to let him go. It’s so peaceful as you both sit there in the silence.

But eventually, all good things come to an end and you whimper as he pulls out of you due to how sensitive you are. You close your eyes in slumber as he leaves the room, muttering something to you before he leaves and the next time you open your eyes, he’s back with a bottle of water and a warm rag to clean you up.

He takes a moment to gawk at your pussy and his cum leaking out of you before cleaning you up. You flinch at the contact at first, but he assures to you that it’s mandatory to clean you up after sex.

When he’s done, he expels the rag into your hamper and tucks you in under the covers, shortly joining you after he does so.

You turn on your side, facing him and going to hold by his torso and Spencer smiles to himself as he wraps his arms around you and quickly leans over to grab the water bottle and you open your eyes as he opens up the cap and puts the bottle to your mouth, wanting you to at least take a sip. You do so and he smiles as he puts the cap back on and then puts the bottle on the desk next to the bed.

Spencer looks down at you, playing with a strand of your hair and shortly rubbing your back soothingly, drawing out mathematical equations on your back and gazing lovingly down at you. When you woke up tomorrow, he’d be right here, right next to you and he wouldn’t leave until you were begging him to.

He meant every word he said to you. He loved you and he wanted to make it work with you again. The past was what it was — the past. And you were his future. He let you go once, over something that you had no choice but to keep from him and he let his pain get in the way of your relationship. No way was he about to make the same mistake again.

Over a few months ago, you two were barely speaking, only talking to each other when your jobs depended on it. And now, he couldn’t go another minute without speaking to you.

He got you back and this time, he had no intentions of letting you go.

[filiazpink]

HEYYYY IM THE GIRL FROM THE COMMENT SECTION OF YOUR ORION AND D-16 AND THEIR SUPERIOR FIC!!! i just wanted to let you know it was adorable and that if it’s alright with you i would love to see a part two! 💕💕💕

🩷"INFATUATED"🩷

orion pax x femme + superior! reader x d-16 - part 2

warnings: MAJOR transformers one spoilers, sentinel prime likes the reader too HELP, my cutie patootie oc being mentioned once, darkwing being darkwing electric boogaloo

summary: takes place during the iacon 5000, and a bit of the aftermath that follows. orion's crush is still very obvious and d-16 is warming up to you.

a/n: SO MANY NOTES ON PART 1?? TYSM EVERYONE 💗💗💗💗 and also a round of applause to this lovely requester here sending the ask that motivated me to make a part 2 :3 sorry it took so long i was busy with art commissions and writing my dark deception fic :( hopefully this will live up to the expectations of the 30 ppl that sent me in inbox to make a part 2 !! if you guys want a part 3 with even more stuff, lemme know in the inbox! it would be kinda fun to make a mini series with this idea for the whole movie !! ENJOY !!!

word count: 1740

proofread: minimal (lemme know if there's any errors!!)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

somehow, you managed to gain one of the best spots in iacon to watch the race take place.

well, it was easy to know why.

sentinel prime himself considered you as one of ‘his closest friend’, so he reserved a special seat just for you: right next to him.

best seat in the house.

it was a very overwhelming experience overall, with cameras all pointed towards you and THE sentinel prime, the fact that you were simply next to the savior of iacon, the slight confusion you had for what you and sentinel were. i mean, you only spoke to him professionally, and those were rare occasions. surely, he met thousands of new bots everyday, yet he remembered you of all bots. 

but all of that couldn’t compare to the dread that took over your entire body as soon as you heard sentinel utter the following:

“i’m sorry- are those miners in the race?” the two of you turned around to the giant screen to see that, indeed, there were cogless bots participating in the race.

and not just any cogless bots, bots from your sector!

and not just bots from your sector, it was those two charming bots orion pax and d-16!

your optics widened at the revelation, on the point of transforming to go and stop them before they get damaged beyond repair but sentinel held you back.

“hey- hey, what are you doing??” he mumbled, looking back at the cameras every few seconds to make sure they weren’t focused on him.

“those are workers from my sector!! i-i know them, i have to sto-”

“come on, (y/n), relax! they’ll be fine! besides, think of the inspirational boost it’ll give the other miners if they do win. they’ll be delighted.” he tried coaxing you into relaxing, going so far as to gently rub your shoulder in an attempt at comforting you but you had none of it.

“this is a first in iacon 5000 history!”

“oh primus, please, please, please keep them alive!,,,”

“how are they going to survive?”

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

eventually, the cameras couldn’t pick up feed on the tunnel that the majority of the racers, including orion and d-16, were in. the thought of finding them crushed or in worse condition sickened you. with a trembling hand, you quickly gripped onto sentinel’s, who couldn’t help but look smug at your reaction.

“they’ll be okay,,, right?!” you asked him and the prime sighed.

“don’t worry. if they end up hurt, we’ll just send them to medbay-”

“i don’t believe it! the miners take down darkwing!”

the crowd went wild at the display, somehow getting louder than it already was. the femme and the prime watched in astonishment as the miners went from last place to third place in such a short amount of time. 

well, now you knew that darkwing was going to complain about that to you for the rest of the work cycle.

you let go of the blue and golden bot’s hand (much to his very visible disappointment) to place it over your mouth. your optics shined in absolute amazement, watching the main screen showing orion and d-16 looking more and more hopeful. 

“OHH, MINERS!” darkwing literally roared at them, his fists clenching in total anger. 

“great effort, darkwing!” orion attempted to cheer on darkwing for his efforts, but deep down, he knew once this was over, he and his companion were royally fucked.

“t-that worked! it actually worked! you think (y/n) saw all that?!” d-16 beamed, getting more and more excited at the thought of you watching them- watching him win the race.

“i’m sure she’s watching! she’ll be so proud of us!”

after passing the magnetic obstacle course tunnel (much to your relief, poor bots would have been crushed beyond repair), you felt like your body couldn’t handle all the amount of excitement, especially with the announcer going:

“a four-bot pile-up in the magnetic tunnel and the two miners are now in first position! this is UNBELIEVABLE!”

the speechless prime turned around, facing the finish line, pulling you alongside to observe. 

from the corner of his optic, he watched your reactions with envy. you never reacted that way whenever he showed up to your office unprompted.

were those two cog-less bots really that important when he’s here?

however, his train of thoughts was interrupted as a shattered piece from a nearly crushed racer hit d-16 from behind, making the grey bot trip and fracture his leg. you gasped at the outcome, praying they were still close enough to make it.

orion reached for d-16, pulling him up and slinging him onto his back, slowly making his way to the finish line. 

everyone was losing it, including sentinel, who was on the edge of his seat. will they make it in time? 

even the announcer seemed to be overly excited!

orion quickly looked up to your radiant face, feeling another rush of energy flow through him simply by seeing your wonderstruck expression. by the allspark, you looked glorious with all the different lights shining onto your armour.

“one miner is now carrying the other, mere steps from the finish line in the most amazing, sensational, dramatic, heart-rending, exciting, thrilling finish in the history of-”

and all of a sudden, all of it was cut short as a white and cyan mech ran into the smaller bots, knocking them back down. the mech transformers and slid across the finish line, throwing her fists in the air.

“WE HAVE A WINNERRR!! CHROMIA COMES FROM BEHIND TO TAKE THE PRIZE! talk about an iacon 5000 for the ages!”

your excitement died down. sure, you were happy for chromia, she won fair and square, but,,,

you sighed as you watched every other surviving racer fly past the two miners, still trying to see the small mechs as sentinel let out a chuckle, dragging you away with him to congratulate the winner.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“mmh, they should be right here, miss.”

“thank you, mekastat.”

the pale red and pink bot nodded at you with a courteous smile, walking away from the medbay you were informed that orion and d-16 were in. you let out a long sigh, clearing your throat and before you could knock at the door, you managed to overhear the ongoing conversation.

“we are SO screwed!” you could distinguish d-16’s frustrated voice through the commotion, followed by orion’s more gentle tone:

“i thought you weren’t talking to me,,,”

“hey, look, i know it's all a big joke to you, but not me! i was paying my dues. i was going places and now they're going to bust me down- i don't even know how many tiers-”

“d, i’m sorry-”

“A-AND NOT JUST THAT! SHE SAW IT ALL HAPPEN! SHE,,, she saw everything.” she? no, that doesn’t matter. your curiosity will be your downfall.

with a quick knock, their conversation was cut short as you quietly walked in. orion immediately sat up straight, his optics wide open. a blush (that you assumed was out of embarrassment) decorated his face. d-16, however, didn’t even look you in the eye, his head hunched over in shame.

“hi.”

they waited for any form of reprimand from you, but since you simply stared back at them as to wait for them to speak, orion decided to be the first to break the ice.

“,,, i’m so sorry, (y/n), i was the one to s-suggest the idea of us participating. demote me but not d-16, i practically dragged him along into this.” d-16 turned his head just a little bit at his friend, the tension in his yellow optics leaving just a tad bit.

you thought for a while, looking away and missed the way that even in such a situation where you were supposed to, yes, reprimand them, orion looked up at you like you hung the moon and the stars combined. even in the poor lighting the room had, your armour still shined in a hypnotizing way. at least, in orion’s eyes.

“i should punish you for breaking protocol like this.”

“we know,,,” “but.” you got down on your knees, still towering over the miners, and with a small and gracious smile, you said: “i won’t. besides, even if you lost, that was still the coolest thing i’ve ever seen.”

hearing that made d-16’s helm rise back up to stare at you with a bewildered expression, matching his friend. 

“really??”

you then let out a small giggle and gave them a bigger smile, which totally didn’t make the two smaller bots swoon. “it was amazing! you were both so fast, and you managed to take down darkwing?? he’s never going to hear the end of it! do you know how long he’s been training for this day and he was beaten by you two, who never trained for this type of action?!”

they’ve never seen you this excited, just the sight made up for the fact that they had lost and possibly humiliated themselves to millions of cybertronians. 

“if anything, if sentinel doesn’t end up giving you guys a prize for making it this far, i’d think he’d be wasting an opportunity to celebrate true racers!” 

“oh- wait! sentinel! what’s he going to do with us??” asked d-16, nearly getting up from the table, stress once more filling his processors. 

your excitement died down at the mention of his name. oh, right. him.

“um, i could try to convince him to not do anything drastic! he considers me a friend of his, apparently.”

“that won’t be necessary.” another femme’s voice droned out, one that you immediately recognized. 

“i’ll take it from here, (y/n). head back to your post.” airachnid ordered, stepping aside for you to leave. you turned your helm to the miners and waved goodbye, still watching them as you walked away until they were no longer in sight.

as you were about to leave the building, you bumped into darkwing, who despite not having visible facial features, you could tell with the way he was walking that he was still absolutely infuriated.

“darkwing,,,?” you asked and in response, he swiftly turned around, grabbed you by the shoulders and screamed:

“I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT YOU ARE A VERY BEAUTIFUL AND VALUED BOT IN MY LIFE.” and so he power walked into the hospital, leaving you utterly confused.

,,,

what.

wait why was he going in the hospital?

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

🩷send me a burger !! : ko-fi💗 🩷visit my other socials !! : socials list💗 🩷writing requests rules !! : info list💗

[kaislvves]

IN WHICH; you and kaiser get into an argument over a stupid reason which leads into a hard launch after his match.

a/n: do NAWT speak to me about how unrealistic the last scenes are. i KNOWW how crazy fans can be and they’d probably be mauling/trampling you guys to death😭 also say no to telling me to put my ear to your mouth and listen what you have to say (kaz ref…) only to tell me this is ooc leave me alone pls. & not proofread lolz

cw: swearing, arguments -> making up, my writing

“i could stay for tonight.”

it was sickening coming from your tongue because kaiser knew he didn’t want you only for tonight. he’s coming close to crushing you with how hard he’s squeezing your body like he never wants you to leave.

“just for tonight?” is a question he poses. the air around you two remains silent and it angers him—are you thinking about an answer? for there is no other answer than accepting defeat and staying in his arms, forever.

you try squirming around to wiggle your way out of his hold because it was getting warmer than you’d like it to be. “yes, micha. just for tonight.” you start whining at this point but he does not budge no matter how hard you try. he’s only growing more irritated by your response paired up with the nickname you call him to be affectionate.

affectionate his ass—you’re basically admitting you hate him. as much as he loves being seen as an enemy in others’ eyes, he hates when you perceive him in such a manner. “don’t call me micha.” his huffing out and you can feel the vibrations in his chest

“okay mr. football prodigy.” your tease is muffled by his chest. in most situations, he’d take it as a compliment to feed his ego but he knows you’re deliberately trying to egg him on. and though he currently can’t see your face because of the position you guys are in, he swears he can feel your eyes rolling at him.

“i still have a life… and a job.” now it’s your turn to get fed up by his behavior. “am i not your life?” he’s sounding like you genuinely just offended his whole bloodline and hell, maybe even very distant ancestors. you want to say he’s joking but judging by experience, he most certainly isn’t.

one thing you understood when you first started dating him was that he would not give up his career for you and using the same logic, you didn’t have to either. now can some mind reader tell you why this is happening? why is he being so stubborn about this in particular? not like kaiser isn’t dramatic or stubborn most of the time but he’s never been this stubborn over a matter like this.

“michael that’s not… i just—i can’t just give everything up for you.” oh, now you’re calling him by his full first name? perhaps that wasn’t the best way to word it because you feel grip shifting to the back of your head to keep it in place, he does this because he doesn’t want you seeing his face. “why not?” he barks a lot quieter than he normally does.

“what do you mean by ‘why not’? this has been my life, even before i met you.” you try holding in the scoff that you were trying so hard to avoid but it’s obvious now.

as if it wasn’t already tense but it feels like it bloomed into a raging silence. you believe he’s thinking of an answer but in reality, he isn’t. he’s thinking about anything else other than him opening his mouth because only the heavens know what words would spew out of his mouth if he were to—imagine how worse he’d make this petty argument.

you hate this.

you hate silence.

you hate him being silent.

and you make the dumb decision to add salt to the injury—the one thing kaiser didn’t want to do. “do you actually want to argue about this? if so, i’m not staying at all.” there you go, saying things you don’t actually mean. “do you mean that?” oh he actually responded. you did try to choose your words carefully but your mouth moves faster than your thoughts.

“and if i did?” you’re lying through your teeth, but he takes the bait.

that was what unlocked his vile mouth that should be censored on television after losing a match. “you really are annoying, you know that? i hope you didn’t because i didn’t know that either when i started liking you. or were you just leading me on? i don’t care if you aren’t staying anymore. just fucking leave.” he’s lacing his words with cyanide.

he’s second guessing his thoughts of wanting you to stay forever if you were just going to be acting like that. his grip on you is finally loosening and it’s easier to slide right past his arms. you take the chance and peak at his face. it wasn’t the look you want to see on him normally but it is justified in this situation. he has a scowl on his face but he still looks so pretty like this. he’s looking at you too, albeit not with the admiration you’re doing.

it isn’t the best idea to stay silent and so you don’t.

“fine then.” you say while walking away from him to head towards the entrance and like expected, he doesn’t follow you. you take the bag from the front-door rack and slip on the shoes he gifted you.

you spare no time opening the door, not even glancing back when you shut the door as well. kaiser is the one looking, glaring at the back of your head before you disappear behind his door. after he knows you’re off completely, he goes over to lock it shut but also ends up smelling the slight scent of your perfume floating in the air.

looks like you won’t be staying tonight anymore. and now that this happened, will you ever? did he want you to?

this argument could have been so minor if both of you had just sucked it up.

were you still together? it didn’t end in clear closure, just him telling you to leave and you did.

did you still want this? did he still want this?

in all honesty, he just wants you. no matter what form, no matter what, he still wants to say he knows you. it didn’t have to be this way.

safe to say neither of you had good sleep that night.

kaiser has many ways to express his aggression. be it words, physical contact (past), or what he’s doing right now—football. he hasn’t contacted you ever since that day and you haven’t either. makes him question what he still is to you.

why does he care? if you don’t want to talk to him, neither do you. if you hate him, he hates you.

however, whenever he does take his anger out of the field, he dominates it. effectively becoming the king of the field. from the get-go it was obvious bastard munchen would win the match against some other team they were playing against.

you could tell too, setting aside the fact you were sitting pretty far from the game. what made you want to watch the match even if you thought he was probably your ex already? you didn’t know. it’s like you just gravitate towards the stupid rat tails man, he’s an annoying magnet to you now.

and like everyone betted on, bastard munchen did win.

the team immediately celebrates by huddling together, slapping each-others hands, carrying each-other, and what not? you unconsciously smile at the scene, it was small, you could still feel it but you couldn’t help it.

kaiser is celebrating with his team, being somehow lifted on-top of ness’ shoulders (which he is really annoyed at and he’s wondering how the fuck he’s doing that, what is wrong with him?). he ultimately scored the last goal they needed to win. it wasn’t a surprise because when he plays, he wants to—needs to—win.

despite that, his teammates couldn’t help but realize his anger, leading to yoichi asking him a question that makes kaiser want to choke the black-haired man on the spot.

“the hell was that?” he asks (referring the stupidly impossible goal kaiser was able to score, but you know… he doesn’t believe anything is impossible.) “i have a question for you too, yoichi. what the hell is that kind of question?” he’s laughing out, still on ness’ shoulders. but he’s laughing so hard his whole body starts to shake, making ness stumble a little.

still, yoichi was able to tell something was off.

“uh… what’s gotten your panties in a twist?”

but before kaiser could answer that with going off on him, he’s being pulled into an interview.

what made that goal possible?

“it was never impossible.”

what do you feel after winning?

“as if we weren’t going to win.”

boring questions he didn’t want to answer but he was obligated to—for he was basically the star of the show, like always. that was until a certain question was asked that made him look around the stadium for the first time.

that was quite an impressive goal.

“of course.”

is there anyone you wanted to watch that shot?

he’s silent. he’s thinking of you as he gazes around the bleachers—embarrassingly thinking everyone has your face and accidentally making eye contact with crazy fans that go berserk when he does. the only reason he never looked before and during the match was because you wouldn’t be there.

what a desperate reason, right? row after row, he’s scanning every seat, even the ones that are empty and imagining you’re the one sitting in it. 3rd to the top row, he scanning and not expecting to see you.

the fuck? is that you?

is he looking at you? kaiser is looking in your direction and in the area you’re seated but you’re so high up you can’t tell and it’s very unlikely he is but he keeps staring. you’re awkwardly looking away and around your section to hide your face.

oh but he’s already gotten a look of the face he so desperately wanted to see and he’s not going to look away, nor will he stand in one place. like a lunatic who just escaped some mental hospital, he’s booking it from the interviewer who stands shocked.

oh ok... he totally saw you which defeats the total point of you sitting so far away, was he lying to you when he said his eyesight wasn’t the best? probably. anyway, that was your sign to also walk away.

screams of fans were deafening and you felt like your eardrums were going to burst anyway.

who cursed you? because it was such a coincidence that kaiser comes out the way you were going to exit. he didn’t count how many fans who were asking all sorts of things he ran past to get to you.

as soon as you saw his face, you tried playing it off cool and spun the other way to walk away but he was by no means dumb and he saw you do that. he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

it felt like when you ask your friends to chase you and they actually do and now you’re screaming your lungs out trying to outrun them. obviously it was futile because he was so much faster than you.

no words could explain how fucking loud the crowd was, first when he ran, second when he entered the spectator area, last (hopefully) when he hugged you tightly from behind, stopping you from running.

like that night, he was warmer than you’d like him to be. arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. “are you running away again?” he’s whispering into your ear and despite the crowd + the booming voices around you… ++ the paparazzi basically stomping on people to get a photo, he’s unbelievably close to your ear, you have no trouble in hearing him.

“kaiser.” you breathe out in the same shock the interviewer was probably in. “don’t call me that. answer my question.” he huffs—he hasn’t heard you call him that in for like… forever! (unless you count other arguments)

“should i want to run away?”

“i don’t want you to.”

the grip is getting tighter and it slightly stops you from breathing for a second. you don’t want to run away, you don’t hate him.

you were thinking the same as him, whether or whether not he still considered you his. but you know his ego is way too high for his own good so you do him a favor and ask him instead.

“are we still something?” you ask and it hurts him that you do—did you not think that anymore? his eye is twitching with uncertain emotions. “…tell me your answer first.” there’s hurt evident in his voice because he doesn’t want to jump into conclusions and hurt his ego even more than he already has fighting for his way to get to you.

“i don’t know, are we?” he’d flick your forehead with full power if he wasn’t trying to make up with you. it’s barely audible but you hear “i still want this.” a frown is on your face and he took it as a bad sign.

“i do too, micha.” you admit, he’s spiraling by how you say his name.

as much as he wants to say that he did want you to stay with him forever, that he didn’t want you to leave him, that he doesn’t actually find you annoying, that he loves you. he decides on doing only the second and last option because he’s kept himself, you, and the fans waiting far too long.

(you also wanted to say you didn’t mean it.)

he’s spinning you around to face him.

“don’t leave me, ever.”

he holds your hands in his, leaning forward to kiss you.

and though you guys still have so much to apologize, discuss, and everything in between… you both would rather leave that for a private matter. just stay in this moment, in his arms for now? if not forever.

oh and now you hoped this was the last time the crowd got as rowdy as it was.

GERMAN FOOTBALL PRODIGY; MICHAEL KAISER AND HIS SUPPOSED PARTNER MAKE IT PUBLIC! WHO IS THE LUCKY PERSON? EVERYTHING WE KNOW RIGHT NOW…

locknessmonster : bro wtf

[tranceinnumerabletabs]

When Johnny Comes Back pt11

Howdy again y'all! It's a pleasure to post another part of the story so many enjoy. I'm sorry if I diverge from canon too much?

tags: @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and @beelzebee

part1, part2, part3, part4, part5, part6, part7,part8,part9,part10

His eyes shoot open “shit”

“What is it”

“….”

“What is it?” You ask more paranoid

“Nothing baby” he says quickly, eyes lost in thought

“What happened?” You ask more panicked. He looks at you and hesitates, no, looks resigned to what he must say

“It’s nothing” he insists through clenched teeth looking down, almost like it’s forced.

“Johnny please just tell m-“

“It’s nothing!" he snaps. You flinch in shock and worry covers your face. Soap looked so…conflicted.

You try to think of what to do, lost. Then you settle on just…sitting near him.

A bad silence shrouds the atmosphere. This wasn’t how you wanted to start your morning with the newly returned soldier. You feel the guilt in your stomach grow more and more. You just….didn’t think this would happen. You just snooped around a little because you were curious and…well…nervous. You never thought this would lead to this. You never knew what your roommate was up to. You, admittedly, dismissed a lot of the claims because:

a.a lot of misinformation are on these sketchy sites and b.you can never really know everything and c….you..didn’t want to believe it….silly but….unproven claims weren’t the first thing you wanted to think about when thinking of Johnny. No. When you saw those vague claims you didn’t think that the man who jokes about being in love with you was a war criminal. Those people be anyone. They could be the ones Johnny was fighting against, it the ones that shot him. Or…maybe it’s justified what they did due to unknown reasons…or…he didn’t know or it was out of his control. Can’t blame a soldier can you? Especially since Johnny tells you it’s just…well….he made his job sound boring sometimes. You’re beginning to think he just wanted to calm you down. He seemed like a calm guy so you believed him. Looking at Soap now? He’s tense, deep in thought and covering his mouth.

You reach out a hand to the pondering man and place it gently on his shoulder. “Hey” you softly say “look at me”

He tilts his head up, eyes troubled yet resigned somehow. “What can you tell me?” You offer, thumbing his collarbone. He places a hands on yours, leaning his head to it, deep in thought. He looks at you and cautiously says “it’s….something I thought I knew about someone I trust, turned out tae be true. Can’t figure out how anyone can know”

“So your friend’s secret was revealed?”

He nods “there shouldn’t be any way fer anyone tae find out fer sure….could be a lucky guess”

“Who did your friend tell about the secret?”

He shakes his head

“Not a soul to what I know.”

“Then how’d you know?”

“I didn’t. He never told me. I just….had a hunch. And it’s not like he doesn’t have his reasons”

“Was it a really bad thing?”

Silence for a moment.

“No. Bastard fucking deserved it.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“It’s….jus’….a surprise” and also no one should know, but it’s plausible to piece together.

“Does it make him worse in your eyes?”

Another silence

“….no. He did what he had to”

“Then did it make him better in your eyes?”

He thinks for a moment “aye. He took matters in his own hand.” His eyes, down and still contemplating the information, close tightly and his hand brings your hand to cup his face. He sighs, still upset about your knowledge.

“What do you think of me Bonny?”

You tilt your head in question. He opens his eyes and look at you “what do you think of me now?”

You’re silent, finding your answer. He doesn’t pressure you, feeling as if he’s telling you to take your time

“I….don’t know what’s the full truth about you. Everything I read is so vague, jumbled and confusing….” You trail off. He squeezes both your hands as encouragement to keep talking. His eyes glimmer with a sad desperation.

“….I don’t know what to make of this, Soap….even if you tell me the truth I have a feeling that’s not pretty either…” you stare off to the window somewhere. You don’t want to think you’ve entirely misjudged Johnny, and his saddened eyes just make you rethink a lot of things. You sigh “Johnny…I….” You shuffle a little “I still care for you...I wouldn’t want you anywhere in the world but here with me.”

He looked comforted by that, reassured that you’re not disgusted by him or think him responsible for some really bad shit.

“Tha’s good…” he sighs, still upset about you knowing anyway. He never wanted that hideous and cruel world seeping its stench into the paradise he’s created with you here. You lean into him more, offering your presence more fully. He looks at you with eyes that are a mix between his signature puppy eyes that always had you folding to his will and somber eyes that seem to apologize just for being here. He opens his mouth “I….” Sigh “I…”

“It’s okay Johnny….I’m sure it’ll all be okay…” He looks down, doubtful of your optimistic claim.

He stands up and looks down at you. He a big boy but he never felt intimidating to you. He was always the oversized golden retriever with a Mohawk who liked whiskey. You stand up too and hug him. “Never wanted ye tae s-“

“I know. But forget about all that. You’re home now”

He hugs back “I’ll clear yer name” he promises a while later. You nod “yes please.”

“And get rid of the agents”

“I’d like that. I’m sorry I ever got involved in this”

“I know….I’ll send this back to base…”

“Are you going to let your friend know about this?”

“Aye. If anyone should know it should be him”

“Good. He’ll appreciate it”

.

.

.

“Ye still love me right?”

You giggle bashfully at his choice in words.

“Why? Would you love me if I was a war criminal?”

“Aye, if Hitler had a wife I think I can have yer love”

“So you’re as bad as Hitler?” He groans. You lean up to kiss his cheek.

Then he grins “there’s my hero’s welcome”

[dreamingofawhiteswan]

Yandere Rocket x Reader

WARNING: Mild violence mentioned. Death mentioned. Kidnapping mentioned. Please read with caution.

Additional notes: this request was done for Yin anon. I hope I captured the wish accurately

Rocket is a slow burner, and it all begins when he starts to feel jealous. That's normal in relationships, even when you're just crushing! When he sees a person flirt with you, he suppresses the desire to butt in until he sees you look uncomfortable.

But it's a little more than jealousy. Every time anyone speaks to you, looks at you, he gets that feeling. You're already friends, so what's a confession going to do? "Oh I wanna hang out more" wow how game changing. It ends up not really changing anything, even though you gently reject him.

But the more you talk to those people, the worse he feels. He knows it's wrong, so he hides it in flowery language. "You're not forgetting about me, right? We're pretty much attached at the hip, Zuka said so.". Sure, lying isn't the best, but who cares? If it stops him losing you, that's all that really matters.

But you pesky thing, you keep interacting with everyone! Stop looking at them like that! And why do you look at those things like that? Even the park bench gets your gaze...

You're supposed to love him! You love him! You do love him! He'll keep asking until you admit it already! He'll ask every day, every hour, every minute, every second!

Then you go and disappear. And you choose Playground, of all places. Are you mocking him? You must be. Especially since he finds out you're cozying up with some other guy in that hellpit. The thought of their hands all over you makes him feel sick.

He'll show you the kind of guy he used to be. You better just suck it up and tell him you're in love with him. You both know it's true.

- Rocket is the type who is slow, but spirals quite quickly when the ball gets rolling. He could go years fostering the beginnings of an obsession, but when the last straw breaks the camel's back, you're getting kidnapped by the end of the week.

- In the face of fighting back, he's relatively hard to wind up due to his experience in Playground, but that's because you find out the hard way he's the type to take a lot of abuse, store it all mentally, and then explode on you.

- Rocket isn't the type to get flustered. Before he became obsessed, he would be, but post-kidnapping has changed him back into the ruthless Playground street rat. There is absolutely a level of violence that comes with being in his grasp.

- One of the ways his babe has any power over him is by saying they love him. Of course, this is a double edged sword as he expects proof of that love. His love language is gift giving, and he despises regifting. Since everything of yours is a gift from him, there's only really one thing you own that can be gifted over and over.

- He has a body count, and even post-kidnapping it's going up. Since he's completely snapped, he's taken a daily exercise of scratching out a list he made of everyone and everything you ever looked at that wasn't related to him, and wiping it off the Inpherno.

- Another hobby is carving you into his ideal shape. He likes to hold your neck and force it into countless positions in order to carve your horns in his image. Pieces of skin coming off is pretty common, and if you want that mess gone, you better do it yourself.

"I'm home." You hear the voice of your captor state, as if he was merely greeting a roommate. You can't see him, but you can watch how the floor moves in his steps. The way the metal of his leg clinks and compare it to the regular thumping of his other leg.

You listen to the clinking and thudding, trying to piece when he's next going to open that door at the top of the stairs and head down. It isn't long until the sounds of him moving stop, and a soft creak of a door comes to your ears.

"Hey babe." He states, as if this were your bedroom. As if there's a clock on the wall, a window to shine lights through, sheets that aren't a stark colour. He makes his way to you, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

He then presents his own cheek, which you press your lips to. Initially, you gagged at giving him his welcome home kiss, but that reflex was beaten out of you long ago.

"Today was rough! Honestly, I question why some of these people are allowed to walk around!" He begins the lengthy process of complaining about whatever day he had. If anything, you tune it out, only really listening to one specific part.

And to that part he gets. He describes how he went to visit someone. You make a point to hear their names, even though you stopped mattering to them a long time ago. Rocket doesn't have the mercy of temporary relationships, so they must be punished, in his eyes.

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- three.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, drinking, allusions to depression, reader and noah making up yayyyy 🥳🥳

w.c- 2,898

a.n- if you guys couldn't tell by now, this story has kinda turned from being inspired by only halley's comet to being inspired by the entire album! go listen to happier than ever by billie eilish. the album. not the song.

enjoy! <3

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment!

i haven't slept since sunday. midnight for me is three a.m. for you.

three more weeks passed since everything happened. the next day, noah tried to come back. i told him to stay away. forever. i promised him that i would be just fine without him, that i didn't need him to prove to me that he was something he didn't want to be. because i was so convinced he didn't want to be better. he just wanted his photographer back.

i started working at a local coffee shop, the spark in my eyes that was once consistent now gone. i didn't have that kind voice that everyone grew to love. i didn't put any effort into my appearance. i just threw my hair into a ponytail and moved on.

a lot of the time, i was glad i lived alone. i could fall back into old habits without being scolded. like drinking, for example. it was the only way i knew how to handle my feelings. which wasn't working very well.

but you're all it takes for me to break a promise.

i knew the next time i saw his face i would break. i would run back. i would stay. spending years with somebody who you're secretly in love with will do that to a person. so i made it my goal to purposefully ignore him.

every time i would go home, i would scroll mindlessly on my phone. i found out that noah canceled the rest of the tour. mental health reasons, or whatever. i rolled my eyes, turning off my phone and cracking open yet another bottle of liquor, feeling the familiar burn go down my throat that i've grown accustomed to. i walked around my apartment mindlessly, humming some unfamiliar tune to myself.

these past few weeks, music has been my number one savior. aside from alcohol.

NOAH'S POV.

these weeks without her proved to be difficult. having fallen into a depression after alyssa and i broke up, [y/n] leaving only made it worse. i sat in my room, staring at the door. sometimes i would pray that she would walk through. surprise me and say it was all just a cruel prank.

countless bottles of hennessy sat in front of my bed. that was all i had been doing. drinking and working out and writing to ease away the pain.

"but nevertheless, i'm fucking depressed. i hide it with sex, and drink till it's fatal." i murmured to myself, taking another sip from the bottle before letting it clatter to the ground, snatching my pen and paper from my desk.

when i went through things like this, i always liked to write down my thoughts. some of those thoughts ended up in songs. and since we were in the middle of writing a new album, this was perfect.

there was a knock at the door and i grumbled a greeting, my eyes never leaving the paper. a couple seconds later, jolly walked in.

"christ, man, you look like hell."

i hummed, continuing to write as he sat in front of me.

"look, i know you're struggling. because of-"

i knew exactly who he was talking about. i didn't want to hear her name. she hurt me enough. "don't say her name."

jolly sighed. "because of her. but dude, we're worried. you know none of it was your fault, right? she was stupid to do that to you."

i scoffed. "she said it herself, jolly. 'he's richer, hotter, and bigger'" i scowled, repeating her words that she had said to me that night. some part of me regretted walking out of that door. i loved her. for years. and i had grown used to loving her. she was all that i had. she was what made me what i am. she was right, really. i would be nothing without her.

"you're doing it again." he said. at this point, i had stopped writing, staring off into space. "doing what?"

"that thing you do when you get all into your head. blaming yourself for everything. how many times do i have to tell you it's not your fault for you to get it in your head, man?" he said, sternly but gently.

i rolled my eyes. "you're wrong."

"how?"

"because i loved her, jolly. i fucking loved her, and i screwed it all up because i can never do anything right. i'll never be good enough. for myself, or anybody."

i buried my face in my hands, sobs racking my body once more. i never liked to be this vulnerable with anybody, even my closest friends. but honestly? i didn't give a fuck anymore. let them see.

"i know man. i know." he said, rubbing his hand over my back in an attempt to sooth me.

it pained jolly to see me like this. i knew that. but it was better to tell people of my thoughts than to keep it bottled up inside, right?

READERS POV.

i was making that damn song all the way till the early morning. i didn't even realize how late it had gotten until i woke up to my alarm. i had fallen asleep at my desk, my computer still running and everything. i didn't have work today, so that left me plenty of time to do whatever the hell i wanted.

months passed. months without seeing or talking to him. i would occasionally text the others, but i wouldn't dare send him a single text. i caught up a bit with folio and jolly, telling them about my ongoing journey with music. i still pursued photography as a side hustle, but my main focus was getting this song perfect.

it was almost done. almost ready to be released. maybe as an album? no, i can't get too carried away. music isn't for me. but as i listened to the song and made sure everything was right, my feelings began to change.

"i don't want it, and i don't want to want you. but in my dreams, i seem to be more honest. and i must admit, you've been in quite a few."

it wasn't a lie. he had began to show up more often in my dreams. not as nightmares, but as something that we could've been.

"Halley's Comet comes around more than i do. but you're all it takes for me to break a promise. silly me to fall in love with you."

that promise. that stupid promise.

"[y/n], please. let me explain-"

"no, noah! i don't care about your shitty explanations and your shitty behavior and your stupid face! i promise, i'll be just fine without you. leave me alone!"

"i haven't slept since sunday. mdnight for me is 3:00 a.m. for you. but my sleepless nights are better with you than nights could ever be alone, ooh-ooh-ooh. i was good at feeling nothing, now i'm hopeless. what a drag to love you like i do, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh."

it wasn't entirely a lie. when i imagined him in the bed next to me, it felt like i could sleep better. when i pretended everything was okay, everything felt lighter. the weight on my shoulders seemed to momentarily disappear, only to crash back down when i realized it was all just a fantasy.

"ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh. i've been loved before, but right now in this moment i feel more and more like i was made for you. for you. i'm sitting in my brother's room. haven't slept in a week or two, or two. i think i might have fallen in love. what am i to do?"

as the song ended, i found myself picking up my phone, going to his contact. i laughed softly to myself as i saw the contact. it was still the same. when everything was nice. when i wasn't all alone. i decided to jump the gun, shooting him a text.

i breathed out a sigh of relief. maybe he didn't hate me as much as i thought. i immediately thought back to the time i took it. when things were better. happier.

"come on! put it on!" i laughed, holding out the little plastic tiara to him. we had gone to disney world for a summer vacation, and i won a tiara from one of the game booths.

"i'm not putting that on." he said, his arms folded across his chest.

i pouted, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes i knew he couldn't resist until he groaned, snatching the tiara from my hands and putting it on his head. despite his previously grumpy demeanor, he still wore a smile when i took the pictures.

i missed that.

the moment i saw him walk through those doors, it was like everything hit me all at once. he looked terrible. i did too, but definitely better in comparison.

"hi." i said softly.

"hi." he said back, sitting down in front of me with his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

i bit my lip as we sat in an awkward silence for a moment before i spoke.

"noah, i-"

"[y/n]-"

i couldn't help but smile softly as we spoke at the same time.

"you first." he said.

i took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. "i know you've been through a lot, noah. and i should've taken that into consideration when i said all that shit. honestly, i haven't been doing too well myself, if you couldn't tell." i said, gesturing to myself.

"it sounds stupid as fuck, but it feels like theres this void in my chest that's just been so empty since i left. i miss you guys. i miss the band." i said.

he sensed there was something more. "but...?"

"but," i began. "i can't come back as the photographer. after i've recovered somewhat from everything, i realized photography isn't for me. i was to pursue something bigger."

"like?"

"music."

he raised his eyebrows. "you want to become a musician?"

"i know, it sounds absurd and like a child's dream, but i really think-"

"no, [y/n] that's fucking amazing." he said with a small laugh, leaning forward. i smiled slightly. there was that smile i missed.

"yeah?"

"yeah. i mean, i've only heard you sing a handful of times, but you're great. you're gonna make it big, trust me." he said.

my heart warmed at his words. "thank you." i said.

"look, [y/n], i'll be the first to admit how much of a douche i was to you. i've had time to think about it. to get over it and stop wallowing in self-pity. and i'm really sorry. i'm kinda shocked you didn't quit sooner, honestly. but, if you'd like, we could start fresh. you don't have to come back to the band, but we can hang out and shit. maybe i can help you with your music."

his words only made my smile brighten. "yeah, i'd like that. a lot. thank you."

"of course, princess."

after our little friend date, we went to his studio to work on some things. he showed me how different things worked and helped me on writing a song that i had been thinking about.

i bit my lip, jotting down a few lyrics in my notebook as he watched.

i don't really wanna know why you went there. i kinda don't care. you want to kill me? you want to hurt me? stop being flirty. it's kinda working.

i hummed a soft tune to myself as i read the lyrics, trying to figure out what would work right.

did you really think this is the right thing to do? is it news? news to who? that i really looked just like the rest of you.

noah snapped me out of my continuous thoughts, turning back to the computer. "i've been working on stuff, too." he said.

"yeah?"

he hummed in response, pulling up a file full of different songs. "pick one." he said, leaning back.

i bit my lip in thought before clicking on the one titled The Grey.

"evened the scores, then i let it all go fall apart. and every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah. looking sideways when i say i'm okay with the past. but i'm afraid of what i might say if you ask."

i leaned back in my chair as i listened to the lyrics, knowing that this song could be about one of two people. me, or alyssa.

"gave you way too many chances, you ran through them all. got everything i could want but it wasn't enough. nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. got everything i could want but i still wanted more. yeah, i still wanted more."

the pure emotion in his voice was enough to make my heart break into pieces and clarify who it was about. i knew after what happened with her, he was broken. and this song was only proof.

"there's not another way, don't let me go. don't dig another grave today. i'll make the same mistakes, i'll never know who i was before i faded away into the grey."

the recording stopped, and my eyes darted from the screen to his face. "that's all i have right now." he said. "we have more sessions later this week to finish it."

i gulped. "noah..."

he looked at me and raised a brow. "what?"

"that was fucking beautiful."

i almost felt like i was going to cry. i always loved his voice, but that was on a whole other level. usually he was screaming. he never had those soft vocals like what i just heard.

he smiled softly. "thanks. now get in there."

i blinked, shaking my head. "sorry, what?"

"go on. get in the booth. i want to hear you sing this. we can figure something out."

"noah, i-" "don't argue. go."

i sighed, getting up and heading into the recording booth. maybe it would be okay. i wouldn't fuck it up. i put on the headphones, looking back up at him through the glass. "which one?" i asked.

he hummed, looking through the notebook i had left on the desk.

"what about my future? start it off strong."

i nodded, mentally preparing myself for whatever the hell was about to happen.

"i can't seem to focus, and you don't seem to notice i'm not here. i'm just a mirror. you check your complexion to find your reflection's all alone. i had to go. can't you hear me? i'm not coming home. do you understand? i've changed my plans. cause i, i'm in love with my future. and i, i'm in love. but not with anybody else. just wanna get to know myself."

it really was a beautiful song. and it was me putting all of my feelings on the line. the lyrics didn't have a deeper meaning to them like noah's often did. their meaning was just laid flat out. i changed my plans for the future, and i'm waiting to sort things out with myself before falling in love again.

"i know supposedly i'm lonely now. know i'm supposed to be unhappy without someone. but aren't i someone? i'd like to be your answer. cause you're so handsome. but i know better than to drive you home. cause you'd invite me in, and i'd be yours again."

the lyrics seemed to flow freely as i sang, my eyes closed and hands moving in random directions. i didn't even notice him staring.

"but i, i'm in love. with my future. and you don't know her, mm. and i, i'm in love. but not with anybody here. i'll see you in a couple years."

i opened my eyes and looked at noah, noticing how his mouth was slightly open. i laughed. "don't start drooling."

he shook himself out of his thoughts. "sorry, that was just. really fucking good. you're a natural, princess. i'm jealous." he said.

i rolled my eyes, stepping out of the booth.

"great, now let's work out a tune."

we spent hours and hours fixing up the song, getting carried away in our musical abilities. last time i checked, it was around 2 am. i didn't want to go home, so i suggested we took a little break and watched a movie or something. he nodded and we sat on the couch, turning on the tv (of course he turned on naruto). my head ended up lulling to the side, landing on his shoulder as i slowly fell asleep. the last thing my brain registered before falling into dreamland was the soft kiss on my forehead and his soft words.

"goodnight, princess."

his lips against mine felt like heaven. it felt like my whole life was complete when i kissed him, when i felt him. he felt like home. something i hadn't known in a long time. i pulled away, breathing slightly heavy as i looked into his chocolate brown eyes.

"noah.." i whispered.

he smiled softly and hummed.

"i fucking love you."

"mm.. [y/n]." he mumbled against my lips.

"princess."

"[Y/N]!"

[swagst0rm]

I know this has been brought up like thousands of times but guys… can we stop claiming Will Graham is some sad kicked puppy who was manipulated by Hannibal. like sure he was, but there’s MORE TO THAT. BEFORE AND AFTER.

he was ALREADY A SHITTY PERSON. he already hated solving cases for the FBI because he already got horrible thoughts and urges. Hannibal just made it so he would act upon them. Hannibal made Will more vulnerable. It doesn’t mean Will wasn’t weak from the start. His mental state was already trash. Not to mention he disrespects every authority figure and actively dislikes a lot of the people he works with. THIS MAN WAS NEVER OKAY, Hannibal just made it 10x worse.

And after, Will WILLINGLY gives into the manipulation. Which sounds weird because… it’s manipulation. But Will has already had these urges and embraces them to high fuck once he realizes that he can get away with it. Hannibal didn’t make him curious because for years he had already been curious what would happen.

Did Hannibal manipulate him? Well obviously, yes. But is Will’s shitty personality based entirely on Hannibal? No! And it drives me crazy because by claiming Will’s personality is purely based on manipulation, you dismiss major parts of his character development and some of the LARGEST parts of the story.

[ddollfface]

lm a bit nervous asking this but it’s okay ^u^

I was wondering how your ocs would react to their darlings hurting themselves sorry if this is too weird for you!! I absolutely love your writing btw!!

𝐏𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲

LoveSick!Characters reaction to reader doing self-harm

Warnings; obviously self-harm, possessive behavior, crappy writing, me rambling, yandere characters, little suggestive on LoveSick!Friends part whoops! I wrote reader with a fem!person in mind sorry ╥﹏╥ You’re totally fine! I don’t mind these asks whatsoever, thank you for requesting, love! Just a small thing though, and this isn't necessarily directed toward you, but if you're ever, ever having thoughts of self-harm, there's no shame in seeking help! Take it from a gal who went through it herself! You are loved! Always remember that, babes ♡

....

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲

He’s not mad, just disappointed, which is arguably worse. LoveSick!Athlete could never ever be mad at you. You’re the love of his life! The center of his universe, and all he ever thinks about, so how could he be mad at you? It’s just that… He hates, loathes even, the fact that you didn’t trust him enough to come to him! He’s your boyfriend, your future husband (not that you know that, yet), for God’s sake! 

Anyways… It’s likely you didn’t tell him, and he found out by accident, seeing new and old scars when your hoodie lifts up, or when you guys go to the beach (something along those lines). The first thing he does is pull you into a hug, pressing your face against his chest, just so you don’t see the intense gleam in his eyes. There are so many things that are spiraling in his mind, so many thoughts, and so many feelings that he can’t exactly pin them down. 

He doesn’t know what to do with himself, and he doesn’t exactly know what he’s feeling, but he knows he doesn’t like it. The idea of you ever, ever, harming yourself never came to mind. He never even thought that’s something you’d ever end up doing! He thought that everything was fine and dandy, that you were enjoying the relationship, that you loved him, but apparently not. 

LoveSick!Athlete scolds himself for not seeing the signs, for seeing how you seemed to take longer in the restroom, or how you covered more, even when it was oh-so warm outside. How did he not see the signs? How could he fail you? 

After a moment or two, he pulls you away from his chest, staring at you with an uncanny look, as if he’s trying to pry into your very being. He needs to know why! Why are you doing this to yourself? Is it because of him? Don’t say it’s because of him (it is), or else he think he might start spiraling. Of course, you make up some half-assed excuse, attempting not to place any blame on him, and so, the next thought in his mind is that it’s someone else. After that thought flickers in his mind, let’s just say that you’re not going to be going out with your friends for long while. 

He’s convinced that he cannot leave you alone, that he needs to be there for you at all times. He cannot let these outside influences spoil your beautiful mind! He has to protect you, and he will. Don’t worry, baby. He understands that you’re going through a hard time, but he’s here now! And he’ll take care of you, just let him do everything.

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘁

Okay, now he’s mad, very mad, extremely mad even. LoveSick!Artist is very emotionally constipated, very quick to anger, and violent with his tendencies. He hates what you’re doing to yourself, and it makes him mad at himself, you, and just the world! What did he do wrong? Why are you harming your beautiful body? 

You’re his muse, his inspiration, and he hates that it’s being tainted by your own hands! Immediately, his mind goes to who else has caused this because there’s no way that you, the sweet angel he’s made you up to be, could ever do this to themselves. Someone, some evil, nasty person, has pushed you to this, and he’s going to find them and make them wish they were never born. He’s already conjured many different scenarios in his mind, but not a single world slips from his mouth, which just makes the situation all the worse for you. It’s awkward. On the inside, he’s scathing, thinking of so many things to say, to do, but on the outside, he’s just staring at you with fiery eyes. 

You can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and that makes you nervous. Like LoveSick!Athlete, LoveSick!Artist likely found out by accident or something of the sort, probably when he was painting you. At the time, he didn’t find it odd that you were more hesitant, refusing even, to strip off your clothing, to change into the skimpy dress he wanted you to wear, scraping it up to be you just nervous. He found that cute, and let you be, what he thought, was your flustered self. What he didn’t realize is that you were hiding something from him of all people, which just made the reveal all the worse. 

Even though he’s unreasonably pissed, he’ll try to calm himself down for your sake, knowing that it freaks you out whenever he gets amped up. This means that he’ll grab your arm or push you onto some surface to take a look at your leg, this all depends on where you’ve marked up, and he’ll huff as he looks over the old and new scars. His eyes are fiery, flammed with an intense heat that makes you nervous, too scared to do anything. LoveSick!Artist will wait until his mind is, somewhat, cleared, standing up to grab your cheeks, pulling you into a oddly, and uncharacteristically, soft kiss, and wrapping his arms around you.

You can feel him shake as he hides his face against your neck. You’re so stupid, he’ll mutter, suddenly you feel your skin get slightly wet, God, don’t pull this shit again. Next time just… just be fucking normal and talk to me, you dumbass. You guys will stand there for a moment before he storms off, slamming the front door, not knowing what to do with himself.

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗕𝗶𝗺𝗯𝗼

Okay… She’s a little insensitive when it comes to this topic. Actually, it’s more like a culture shock, in a weird way? I’m not too sure on how to describe it, but it’s in the sense that it’s impossible for her to think that you would hate yourself. To her, you’re absolutely stunning! You’re her hot girlfriend; how could you ever think of yourself like that? It’s something she doesn’t understand, and so she kinda goes into shock when hearing about it. 

She’s very quick to comfort, tackling you into a big hug, tucking her face into your chest as she cries, and cries, and cries, and cries. She cannot believe this is happening! Why would you ever do this?

A situation where you should be the one comforted has turned into you holding her, trying to explain yourself as she straddles your waist, staring down at you with puffy eyes. Her lips are puckered as she cups your cheeks. With the tilt of her head, LoveSick!Bimbo will begin to list off every. single. thing. she loves about you. 

Her hands will start on your cheeks, blubbering out how she loves how full they are because it fills out your face, and then she’ll graze your eyelid, bringing her thumb up to your brow. Oh, how she wishes she had your brows! They’re so, so natural! But she has to get hers done, and God, your eyes. They’re super duper pretty! They’re one of her favorite things about you, can’t you see that? Why would you ever hate such a pretty face, when it’s all so cohesive, all so matching? She’ll go on and on, touching every part of your body as she names something positive, not caring as you try to push her off. LoveSick!Bimbo will hold you down, even using her fluffy, pink handcuffs if she has to! She has to prove to you that you’re an absolute beaut!

Once she’s done with that, she’ll bring you into a big hug, lying next to you as you, somehow, managed to end in her bed. LoveSick!Bimbo will force your face into her chest as she pats your head, urging you to go to bed, baby! I think you’re suppperrr sleep-deprived from finals, and that’s why you’re thinking so silly! Curling up to you, she’ll sniffle a little, huffing under her breath that she can’t believe you’d ever do such things… Maybe we can get our nails done! Manicures always make me feel better!

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗙𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱

Baby, she already knew what you were doing the moment you put a blade to your skin. LoveSick!Friend has adopted the knack for reading you like a book as she’s been around for quite a while and has watched you like a hawk. You think she doesn’t know when you’re falling into fits of depression? Please, baby girl, she clocked it when you started avoiding your guys’s girl's nights. 

Immediately, she took to action, subtly trying to pinpoint exactly why you were doing this to yourself and finding a solution to said problem. Of course, it wasn’t easy as she didn’t want to make her intentions known as she was a little worried that you’d recede into yourself if you knew. She wanted to find out organically, get you talking to her, and then comfort you. 

After all, she is your best friend, and you are hers, so why would you not spill your heart out to her? She’s always been there for you, comforting you whenever your shitty ex dumped you, or when you had a fight with your parents, or even when your other friends conveniently stopped calling (which may or may not have been her doing, but I digress).

Really, because she understands you, and is quite the manipulator, she got you spilling to her in days. All it took was soft touches and sappy eyes, and you folded, not that she didn’t want you to. She wants to be the gal you come to. She wants you to come talk to her instead of tearing through your skin. Baby, you don’t need a therapist when you have her! She’ll hold you through the night, rocking you to sleep as she whispers comfort into your ear. She’s the perfect one for you, don’t you understand?

And don’t question it when her lips travel from your temple to your scarred wrist, and then your scarred thighs. Maybe she can make you feel better? Babydoll, she’ll make you understand how beautiful you are, just you wait. Just lay back, relax, and listen to her. This is what friends are for, right?

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗞𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

And… What’s that going to do, love? Now, he’s just confused, a little annoyed, but mostly confused. Why would you, the Empire’s Beaut, ever harm yourself? I’m not too sure if this is accurate, but I don’t think self-harm was too common back in the day. From what I know, the only recorded self-harm was self-whippings as a form of penance in the Church, or condoned by the Church at least (someone correct me if I’m wrong, but this is what I’ve found from surface-level googling lol). 

Based on this, the idea of you taking a blade to your skin is insane to LoveSick!Knight. He didn’t understand why you’d ever do such things as you live in the finest conditions he can provide! You’re served the finest meals in the nation and are treated with the uttermost care. To him, those are the only things one could ever ask for, so this is one bitch of a situation you’ve put him in. It’s frankly annoying to him, but he loves you so he’ll sit you down and speak with you.

Scooping you up in his arms, he places you on his lap as he combs your hair back, looking at you with an unamused expression as he gently holds your arm/thigh (whatever you choose to harm). With the click of his tongue, he’ll pinch your cheek and scold you, asking you if you understand what you’ve just done, darling? You’ve gone and scarred your beautiful skin. So now, what shall we do, hmm? Want me to go and patch you up, yes?

Of course, you’ll just nod your head with teary eyes, having no idea how to respond to his softened demeanor. Honestly, you were expecting far harsher treatment, seeing as LoveSick!Knight has done far worse to you before, so this was much preferred for you.   The two of you will sit in silence as he bandages you up, and surprisingly, he’ll mark each scar with a kiss, looking up at you with loyalty. In sickness and in health, he swore to you that he’d always be by your side, even when you’re making silly decisions like this. In the past, he may have harmed you in such ways, but he refuses to see you do such to yourself. Even with his hardened exterior and violent tendencies, you are still his wife, and he your husband, so he’s stuck with you until he dies, whether you like it or not.

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗣𝗼𝗲𝘁

Oh… Yeah, you thought he was scared of you before? Now, he’s avoiding you like the plague, absolutely terrified that he’s the one that caused you to harm yourself. LoveSick!Poet barely talks to you, and when he does, it comes out in stutters and flushed cheeks. He’s not the best when it comes to talking to girls, so he gets nervous, but you’ve always been so kind to him. However, the moment you open up to him about your self-harming, whether is present or past, he kind of freezes, not knowing what to do. Does he comfort you? Well, duh! But how do you comfort a girl? Does he hug you? No! You guys aren’t that close yet… A handshake? No, that’s awkward…

God! He doesn’t know what to do! And because of that, he disappears for a while, and you fall into your own pit of self-loathing, wondering if you overshared. I mean, he is just your neighbor, a weird one, but one that you see every morning, and one who leaves you little notes. You know that LoveSick!Poet is a sweet guy, and now you’re scared you ruined all that because you’ve told him something personal…

But all that ends when you find a little gift basket at your front door. Inside, there’s a letter, one that looks made out of very fine, very expensive-looking paper, and was written in fancy handwriting. You never knew his handwriting was so pretty. It was in purple ink, and there was a photo of the two of you, albeit a little awkward, attached to it. You forgot the exact occasion, but you think it was a neighborhood potluck? You’re not sure…

In the letter, LoveSick!Poet wrote a beautiful poem (obviously) about you, aimed toward your appearance, but also your personality. It had tiny details that you didn’t even notice of yourself! You were a little confused about how he even knew that, but you brushed it off as you felt your heart thump a little faster. It was very sweet, very genuine. And it was accompanied by a small bouquet of flowers, cheap(ish) perfume, and some chocolates. 

Although you would’ve really liked it if he’d said all these things to your face, as it would’ve saved you a week or two of anxious suffering, it was still sweet to know that he cared, even if it was in his own, weird way. Catching a small note on the bottom, you couldn’t help but feel warm, giggling at the note that wrote to please look at the bottom of the basket. I got you something I think you’d love ♡

And at the bottom, folded neatly was a portrait of you, smiling softly as you seemed to be looking somewhere else. There were pretty, lilacs framing the photo, and you looked otherworldly, if you don’t say so yourself. You have to admit, it was definitely an ego boost, knowing that this is how LoveSick!Poet saw you. But who knew he could draw?

[greenandsorrow]

Morning Wood.

rut!Alastor x gn!reader

☞ I had some leftover smut scenes from the first chapter of "The price for misbehaving" and so, I decided to combine them with a slightly different depiction of Alastor. He's all fuzzy, basically covered in deer fur -anthropomorphic animal vibes and not the cartoonish, bright red guy we all know!

☞ You don't need to have read the actual multi chap in order to enjoy and understand this. However, I did keep the rutting/mating season theme. I love it when fictional men act pathetic -and the fact that I'm the one determining that in my silly, not so little, fics.

☞ Lots of horniness and hormones. Pet names. Masturbation and a blowjob, but make it goofy and playful! The reader is full of sass. Alastor is eepy and needy. Pre-established relationship. You're his mate!

🪻

Alastor is a mess.

A mess of sharp edges.

And antlers.

Antlers that bear little nicks along their edges.

His wiry frame is covered in patches of scruffy fur that cling to his body in a disarray. It's a chaotic blend of rough textures and soft tufts. His chest and arms are a map of scars, faint reminders of a past that seems to be trying to hide beneath some of the fluffiest tufts.

His tail is twitching with restless energy.

Somewhere on the upper floors of the hotel, his bedroom is dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the radio dial of a fancy antique. Alastor is sitting perched on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide and claws digging into the mattress beneath him. His chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths.

The air is heavy with the dizzying scent of his rut.

He lets out a low growl, his usual composure cracked by the haze of primal need that's clouding his mind. His cock is already in his hand, long, throbbing and impossibly hard, with veins pulsing. The fur at its base is damp with sweat and precum. His heavy balls are drawn tight against his body.

Alastor squeezes the base of his cock and the sound that escapes him comes out unbidden, raw and guttural. He can feel it... The unbearable heat coursing through him, a wild and instinctual drive he can't suppress.

He pumps his shaft, slowly and deliberately at first, as he tries to maintain an ounce of control. But his rut isn't something he can just ignore... And soon his pace quickens, his hips bucking into his hand.

"F~ fffuck~" he hisses through gritted teeth, his free hand gripping his thigh -in an attempt to not tear the poor bedding. His thoughts are filled with glimpses of you... The way you tease him with that infuriating smirk, the way your hands feel on his chest, your breath ghosting over his neck.

It only makes things worse.

His cock twitches violently in his hand, precum running down the length in sticky lines. His clawed hand grazes the sensitive skin of his cock head just enough to sting, but the pain only spurs him on more.

"Why now?" he growls, his voice gravelly.

His tail thrashes behind him.

Alastor is imagining you beneath him, your hands exploring every inch of his furred body while your voice whispers filthy encouragements in his ear.

The thought alone sends him over the edge. With a strangled cry, his body tenses, his hips jerking forward as his release spills on his hand in thick, hot ropes. His vision blurs for a moment, the intensity of his orgasm leaving him trembling.

The room is now silent, save for the sound of his ragged breathing. Alastor slumps forward, claw still sticky and cock softening slowly. He grimaces, dragging a hand down his flushed face before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Disgraceful" he mutters to himself -though the shame is only fleeting. The rut isn't done with him yet and he knows it's only a matter of time before the unbearable ache returns.

Had you found him like that... What would have happened?

For now, though, he allows himself a moment of tranquility.

You said it'll only be four days... He can go four days without you, right? Pfft. Sure, he can. That was literally day two.

The morning light filters through opac curtains and the hotel fills with the familiar sounds of its guests going about their day.

Alastor stirs on the couch, his lanky frame sprawled across the cushions, tail twitching lazily. He lets out a small groan, rubbing at his chest absentmindedly.

The Radio Demon is practically draped across the couch like he invented the concept of fatigue. His shirt is half-tucked, the fabric wrinkled like he's been sleeping in it for days. His legs dangle off the arm of the sofa, one hoof idly moving to some rhythm only he can hear. His hair sticks out in every direction, defying both gravity and logic.

That's when he feels it.

"Oh, dear" he mutters, blinking, as he shifts his hips and feels the unyielding pressure against the front of his slacks. His cock, half-hard when he fell asleep, is now achingly stiff...

Alastor gives an exasperated sigh, though it is also tinged with some embarrassment. He shifts his long legs awkwardly, but the motion only heightens the friction, earning an involuntary hiss from him.

"Of all the things to wake up to" he says under his breath, voice carrying its usual cadence despite the situation.

One hand is already slithering near his waist before he thinks better of it... But he decides to resist.

It's no use.

His cock throbs, demanding attention, the weight of his balls adding to the torture. Alastor whines softly, while his tail is moving erratically against the cushions of the couch.

That's the sight you walk in on -Alastor spread on the couch, red-faced and visibly aroused, brows furrowed in sleepy distress. You lean against the doorway, taking a moment to soak in the ridiculousness of it all.

"Well, good morning to you too, sunshine." you begin, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see you've got a… pressing issue in your hands."

Alastor's head snaps up, his wide eyes widening even more. He had forgotten it was today you were coming back.

"Wha-?!", he struggles to sit up.

You toss a pillow at him. He doesn't dodge -it smacks him in the chest and he groans theatrically, clutching it like it has wounded him mortally.

"Careful!" he pouts, half-lidded eyes gazing at you under messy bangs. "I'm already frightfully weak. Don't make it worse."

You rollyour eyes. "You're always weak when you want something, Al. So spit it out. What do you need?"

Alastor stretches, the movement languid and a bit too purposeful as his shirt rides up, exposing his lean, scarred stomach and the dip of his hip bones.

"Well", he drawls in a tone full of fake innocence, "since you're offering…"

He really is weak.... He hates but simultaneously loves how lust dictates his decisions.

His ears flatten against his head, hands moving to shield himself, though it does little to mask the twitching outline beneath the thin fabric of his slacks.

"Relax." you say, stepping closer with an amused smirk. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. Though, I'll admit… you look particularly needy this morning."

"I- I wasn't expecting company s- so soon again..." he stammers, his usual smoothness nowhere to be found as his tail continues to flick nervously behind him.

You raise a brow, letting your gaze drift deliberately downward.

"Clearly. But hey, I'm here now, so why don't I help you… ease into your morning?"

It's obscene, the way his cock is straining against the fabric like it is fighting to break free. The outline is clear -a fat dick, slightly curved and frankly, too big for him to be this embarrassed about it. His trousers don't stand a chance... The poor button at the top looks like it's holding on for dear life.

"Wow" you observe, crossing your arms. "When you called to say you were 'resting', I didn't realize you meant that. I guess you really were up all night."

His lips part in protest, but the words get caught in his throat when you kneel between his legs, smiling up at him.

"Don't act so shocked... You always do that." you tease, dragging your palms up his hairy thighs. "Y'know Alastor, you look like you could use a hand -or a mouth."

"Y- You are positively scandalous" he manages out, though his voice wavers -probably from the excruciating anticipation for your touch.

"Yeah, yeah" you quip, tugging at the waistband of his slacks. "Now shut up and let me work."

He can't help but make a strangled, static-laced whine at your order.

The moment his cock springs free, it hits his stomach with a thud, the thick shaft flushed and throbbing with need. A soft, furry, happy trail goes down till the base -where his balls rest against the couch, each movement causing them to shift enticingly.

You let out a low whistle, leaning in close. "Well, aren't you a pretty buck."

"This whole ordeal is utterly flawed!"

"Oh, I wouldn't use that word. It's more like an opportunity."

Alastor's right ear twitches at that, his breath ragged. "A- An opportunity for what, exactly?"

Grinning wickedly, you answer. "To see just how needy the great Alastor can get."

Alastor freezes... like a deer caught in headlights, the eternal grin faltering. He shifts his limbs, trying to compose himself, but there's no hiding it -there he is, the Radio Demon, infamous and terrifying… now looking like prey that has wandered into a very compromising situation.

And oh, is it compromising.

Your newly acquainted mate's cheeks flush a deeper crimson, his grin stretching unnaturally wide in a desperate attempt to assert himself. "Ah, well, you see- It's not- !"

"Save it. You're not fooling anyone, stag boy. Look at you... All scruffy and needy... Rocking an erection on your favourite vintage couch."

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I- I assure you, it's entirely… involuntary!"

"Yeah?" you quirk an eyebrow, letting your hand trail up his chest and then back down his stomach, relishing in the feel of his muscles clenching underneath your fingertips.

"Sh- shocking behavior! I- I don't know what you're-"

"Alastor" you cut him off sharply. "Stop talking."

He did.

The trembling demon's shaft isn't just stiff -it's... raging, twitching as if annoyed that it's not already getting attention. And oh, the head. Flushed an angry red, it's bulbous, slick with an impossible amount of precum that's dripping lazily down the sides. It is cartoonishly swollen to say the least.

"Good lord. How can you always wake up like this?"

Alastor squirms, his grin trembling. "I- I am a creature of many talents, my dear!"

His hand grips the armrest of the couch so tightly that the fabric starts to fray.

"Right" you mutter, your fingers finally wrapping around him. The moment you touch him, he lets out a static-filled gasp and the hotel's lights all flicker, his whole body jerking as though he hasn't been touched in centuries. It's been four days.

His cock is hot to the touch. The contrast between the smooth head and the slightly fuzzy base is oddly satisfying under your palm. You give him a little squeeze. He twitches violently in response, tail flicking and ears flattening again.

"Eager, huh?" you tease, stroking slowly. Alastor's sharp teeth clench, his head falling back against the couch as he lets out a broken groan.

"N- nothing like that! I- I'm always prepared!" he babbles, his voice breaking into static again.

"Sure, sure."

That earns you a petulant glare.

The smell of him -something earthy and musky- fills your senses. You let your tongue dart out, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock, slowly, tasting the salty precum that has been pooling at the tip.

Alastor lets out a sound that can only be described as pathetic, his sharp claws scratching the couch (aka the real victim) in a vain attempt to ground himself.

"Prepared?" you mock, your breath falling on his slick glans. "You're shaking like a leaf,u freckled sweetie. I'd say you're anything but prepared."

Alastor whimpers, an uncharacteristic noise for someone so smug. His deer tail is lashing furiously now, the coarse fur of his thighs brushing against you as he shifts in place.

You wrap your lips around him in one swift motion, taking him just far enough to feel the weight of him on your tongue. The ridges along his shaft catch against the wet heat of your mouth as you slide down his length. His claws dig into the couch, again.

He almost chokes... His grown antlers momentarily catch on the backrest. His chest is heaving.

Meanwhile, your lips remain around his hot cock. You hum, the vibration making him jerk so hard he nearly bucks into your mouth. He spills even more precum, coating your tongue.

Pulling back just enough to tease, you let your lips part with a wet pop, his shiny length gleaming.

His ears are still pinned back, his teeth biting into his lip as he struggles -and fails- to suppress a shuddering moan.

You don't wait for him to recover. Instead, you lower your mouth back onto him, taking him even deeper this time. His cock twitches and twitches, the veins pulsing against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks and suck hard.

"Ah- !", static again.

You pause to look up at him, his sweaty and flushed face making you feel oddly proud. Alastor's response to your simple gaze is a little pat on your head. He appreciates what you do, even if it brings him equal amounts of relief and torture.

An incoherent and strangled series of moans leave his open mouth as you work him over with a mix of slow strokes and hard sucks. His legs tense, the fur along his thighs bristling as he teeters on the edge.

"P- Please" he begs, his voice cracking in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach. His usual bravado has vanished completely, leaving him dazed, needy... and utterly at your mercy.

You hum again, the sound sending a shockwave through his body. His cock pulses hard in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer with every ragged breath and broken moan.

You shift your position on the rug slightly, your hand slipping lower to cup his balls. They are heavy and warm in your palm, fuzzy with coarse fur -like the rest of him. You give them a teasing squeeze. Alastor practically yelps, his thighs snapping shut for a moment before falling open again, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to you.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" you comment, rolling them gently between your fingers. His cock twitches violently in response, a bead of precum spilling onto your lips as you kiss the base of his shaft.

Alastor's hands claw at the couch helplessly, his sharp nails ripping the fabric. (🛋️RIP)

"I- I can't take this anymore!", his voice breaks into a high-pitched whine. His antlers clatter against the backrest, as his head tips back, neck taut and exposed.

"Oh, but you can, deer boy" you murmur, your voice sultry. "And you will."

As if spurred by your words, his hips jerk forward, his instincts betraying him. The movement is sudden, sharp and almost frantic, his cock sliding further into your mouth as he begins to rut against your face. His balls slap against your chin with each desperate thrust, their weight a reminder of just how pent-up he truly is when he's in musth.

"G- Goodness gracious, I- ah- oh my~!"

His fur bristles everywhere now -all over his back, his arms and chest- and his ears are spasming.

Static crackles in the air.

You tighten your grip on his base, your free hand moving to steady his hips.

"Easy there, mister buck" you say, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. "Getting ahead of yourself, don't you think?"

"F- forgive me... I really c- can't help it!" he stammers, eyes glazed over with a mix of embarrassment and raw, animalistic need. "You're- you're too good! And frankly, I missed you!"

You chuckle.

Then, you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the very tip, savoring the way he shudders. "Oh, I know", you say smugly. "Now, be a good little deer and stay still, or I might stop altogether."

The threat makes him whine again, the sound almost pitiful -but he forces himself to stay still. His thighs tremble, the tension in his body visible.

Satisfied with his obedience, you take him back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip before sliding down to the base. His hips twitch despite himself, his cock pulsing hard as you swallow him down.

His breathing grows extremely ragged.

"I- I'm... ah! I'm so close" he chokes out. His balls have drawn up tight against your palm, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm -making you moan around him.

Simply, that's enough.

With a desperate cry, Alastor comes undone, his cock throbbing violently as he spills into your waiting mouth. You swallow it, the salty heat flooding your senses as he slumps against the couch, his body trembling with aftershocks.

When you finally pull back, he is even more of a mess than you found him -his hair disheveled and wet, his chest heaving rapidly and his face flushed with a mix of exertion and satisfaction. You lick your lips, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you look up at him.

"Feeling better, bucko?" you ask, your tone smug but with an undertone of affection.

Alastor's ears rise on top of his head and he gives you a sheepish, toothy smile. "I… suppose you could say that", he admits, still breathless.

You laugh, the sound light.

You stand up and give his lips a peck."Good. You look cute like this... completely wrecked and at my mercy."

"The couch looks worse."

Thank you for reading!🪻

Support me further: ☞ PayPal link

~ My Hazbin Hotel masterlist ~

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! 💌

The dividers are by @saradika-graphics.

Tags; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp

[moviememokeeper]

this is mostly self indulgent but--

im a person who has really bad memory and ive been thinking about how ironic it was that i liked reca (major understatement) since hes a memokeeper who probably remembers everything hes ever known. so ive been thinking: what if he had a s/o with really bad memory? this has probably been thought of before but i THINK i have only seen few things about it.

hed be perfect honestly and damn if i dont need someone who can and will remind me of everything i forget like taking my very important meds. or preventing me from accidentally skipping meals. or even sleeping at the right hour because i completely lack a sense of time.

but it also feels super bad to forget everything and even things you actively want to remember like bonding moments. so he would definitely take SO many photos and videos of you and keep them in a super secret stash to show you later. or put 200% of his effort into making the most love filled movies about you and him painted in the most beautiful light- and his bias toward you really shows because theyre always the movies people discuss the most. (i dont know if he would be That biased but its a silly thought. if you want to make it sillier imagine him putting so much effort that he comes home physically disheveled lol)

feel free to add thoughts... its 4 am and im so sleepy it took me 30 mins to make this coherent enough to undsrstand but reca is roaming in my brain rrrrg mr. recaaaaa...

So, I wrote a response to this back when I first received it, but then my dumbass forgot to save it in my drafts 😭

ANYWAY

This is honestly so real, I’m forgetful asf as well 😭

- He’d leave sticky notes all over the house in places he KNOWS you’ll find it to remind of you of important stuff

- the sticky notes also contain a lot of little heartfelt messages <3

- And SO. MANY. NICKNAMES. He’s the type to constantly call you “darling” “love” “sweetheart” etc. he also comes up with very ridiculous nicknames sometimes to make you laugh, they get worse as times goes on

- little texts/phone calls throughout the day to see how you’re doing and remind you of stuff

As for bigger events

Like you said this man definitely has a huge stash of photos and videos

- he keeps little things he finds during your dates (for example a pebble, a keychain, etc.) as little reminders of what you guys did together

- he also compiles all his pictures into a scrapbook

- It details when the picture was taken, what you guys were doing, his thoughts on said day, and a whole lot of compliments

- he doesn’t get upset if you forget something, he just thinks of new ways to help you remember y’know

- ALSO with him being a memokeeper, what’s stopping him from playing his own memories of the event like a movie for you to watch?

This man is a hopeless romantic I swear

[ask-postcrash-curly]

well. We’ve established your thoughts on Jimmy and Anya. What about Swansea and daisuke rn?

I’ve known Swansea for years. He‘a got a rough exterior, but he’s a good man. (Though apparently I’m not a good judge of that.) And an excellent mechanic! Tulpar must be on her last legs if there’s nothing he can do about the vents… Not that it matters, since the company’s collapsing and we fucking crashed anyway. I forgot about that. Ship must be beyond wrecked now. But yeah, Swansea’s great. I trust him. Can only imagine what he must think of me now…

I can’t believe he broke his sobriety over mouthwash. Can’t blame him either, considering how bad our lot is, but— No, changed my mind, I can blame him. Why would anyone drink mouthwash? It’s disgusting. I can barely stand to use it. The thought of swallowing it on purpose… Ugh. They’re probably going to start feeding it to me when the IV fluid runs out… Not like I can choke down solid food. Anya tried at the beginning. It did not go well. Bleagh. Sorry, got off-topic. I can’t stop thinking about the mouthwash. So gross.

Point is, I like Swans. He’s got a wife back home. And a dog. Kids, too. They’re not much older than Daisuke. He deserves to get home to his family.

Speaking of Daisuke: I don’t know him like I know the others, but he’s a damn good kid. Not the best mechanic, at least but he’s trying. The problem is that for Daisuke, “trying” can mean “making whatever was broken much worse.” Swansea was at his wits’ end. Hell, a week before the crash, Daisuke somehow triggered the emergency foam trying to fix the vent!

I do like him, though. He never wanted to do this internship, you know. But he’s always brought everything he has, always gone out of his way to make us all smile. Hell, even now, he visits me. Tells me what’s been going on, plays games next to me. He can still barely look at me, but… Well. I knew the kid for a few months before I (allegedly) pulled a murder-suicide on him. And he still tries to help, in his own Daisuke way.

A guy like that shouldn’t be in this place. Shouldn’t have this shitshow of an internship ruining his life before it’s even started. Damn it, I never should have let them bring him on board! They built an extra bedroom for him, but no fucking cyropod! You know, there’s meant to be enough food and drink and medicine to cover however many people there are on the crew, plus one for safety. Guess what? They didn’t give us jack shit extra when they put Daisuke on board. We should have an entire person’s worth of surplus right now, and we don’t. And I fucking let it slide.

Damn. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep getting worked up. God, I… Jimmy and Anya don’t have much waiting back on Earth, you know. Tell you the truth, I don’t think either of them is expecting to make it. Anya at least deserves to, anyway, but… Swansea and Daisuke have families. Families who might never see their husband, father, son, and sibling again thanks to me and Jimmy.

[monowritestoomuch]

How The Gator Boys Would React If They Found Out You Had Hanahaki(for them):

Notes: I’m like Hamilton. I write like I’m running out of time. I pretty much always am but that’s not the point. This is a big angst hour guys. I’m about to assault your eyes with an ocean of hurt/comfort. ehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe. Take a wild guess to who my favorite is. Enjoy!

Bodie:

Oh lordy lord you have hanahaki for this man? 

You would probably have gotten it after you two bonded after he helped you with your leg, but have been conflicted due to the fact that you’re a hunter and that you’ve been taught all your life that people like Bodie are monsters. 

With that being said, you believe that the two of you could never be together and he could never love you back because you two are just too different. 

That’s when it develops. 

You go out to do your business one night and you cough up a flower petal, and then another flower petal, and then another, until you’ve coughed up a whole flowerhead. 

And you manage to hide it for a while, even hiding it from Timmy once you’d met him. 

You’d dispose of the flowers in private, and if you felt the urge to cough up the flowers in front of Bodie or Timmy, you’d swallow them back down and pray that it stayed that way until you could procure some alone time. 

Your genius(reckless) plan works for a while, that is, until Timmy gets captured. 

You and Bodie end up travelling to the arena, and on the way it only gets worse. Maybe it was due to your guilt over Timmy, or feeling as if you’d betrayed Bodie, but you’d started to cough up blood. 

You and Bodie had stopped for the night to set up camp on the way to Montell, the latter of you two starting a fire and making some gumbo for you two to share. 

You excuse yourself to go do your business and go to a decently close, but far enough away tree, and start practically hurling your lungs. 

Blood and flower petals drop from your lips and you struggle to breathe, wheezing and shaking behind the large oak tree you’d found. 

You didn’t even know how long you’d been gone until Bodie came looking for you, concerned as to if you were okay. 

That’s when he found you, keeled over on your knees, coughing up blood and flowers as you struggled to take in oxygen. 

He would instantly run to your side, shouting “BUG!” in concerned shock. 

He would scoop you up into his arms, holding your back against his chest.

I theorize that he would have a vivid idea of what hanahaki is, enough to decipher what was wrong with you. 

Once you’d stopped retching and wheezing and were breathing slightly calmer, he would slowly turn you to face him. He would ask if it was what he thought it was. 

You nodded hesitantly, unsure of how to hide it any longer than you’d already had.

And when you nodded, pure fear began to course through Bodie’s veins as if he had a dose of maliscythe.

He would ask who it was for, practically begging for you to tell him. He pleaded for you, who looked quite ill and sickly, to tell him because he couldn’t lose anybody else. 

You didn’t even know whether it was worth it to tell him, whether he’d hate you or not love you back. You feared the worst as his pleading continued endlessly.

He asked who it was one final time, his voice practically a whisper, holding back tears from his eyes.

And when you said his name, his stomach dropped. 

Thoughts would run rapidly throughout his head. All this time it had been him? You’d loved him? 

“For how long?” he would ask.

“Since the day you patched up my leg and gave me a warm meal,” You’d respond, tears running down your face as blood splattered your lips. 

Oh and those words would just about break Bodie’s heart. You’d loved him for how long without telling him? 

“I love you too,” he would find himself blurting out, tears falling from his eyes. 

And he meant it, he truly meant it. 

“You do?” you’d ask, hope in your tone, even though it was shadowed with doubt. 

He would look at your face, the tears running down it, and he’d wipe the blood from your lips. 

And he would kiss you there. Just to confirm it. To make you understand that he cared enough, that he loved you. 

And when your lips parted, you felt your airways clear, but no before you turned away from him, and hurled out a whole flower, coughing excess petals.

This would concern him, as he instantly went to aid you, still holding you in his arms. 

But the color had returned to your cheeks, and you wiped your mouth with your sleeve before smiling at Bodie, and kissing him again.

This shocked him, but he kissed you back passionately. 

Later, after making sure you were hanahaki free, he would tell you that you could always trust him and that he’d always be there for you. 

(Bonus: When he gets injured and knocked out in the arena in Montell, you would instantly run to his side, almost pleading for him to wake up to the shock of Roldan and Timmy.)

Timmy:

You fell for him? The tiny one with mommy and daddy issues and a fuckton of trauma? Oh dear. . .

After meeting this little chaotic gator and thinking to yourself that ‘hey, he’s pretty cute,’ and then quickly catching feelings for him. 

The more you got to know him, the more you fell head over heels for him. 

That was when you remembered, ‘Right, I’m a hunter, he’d never love me back.’

A petal had fallen from your mouth after eating gumbo with Timmy and Bodie, and you knew who it was for. 

And after you’d basically told Bodie (he’d figured out) that you were a hunter, it only got worse, as your guilt for having not told Timmy increased dramatically. 

You’d kept coughing up the occasional petal, unbeknownst to Timmy, and it was only a petal,

Until Timmy had gotten captured. 

The betrayal in his eyes and in his voice made your heart sink and those petals pushed up from your throat and you had to restrain the urge to cough them out and you practically begged for them to let him go. 

It only got worse after Bodie found you, the guilt practically eating you alive. 

And while you guys had been travelling to Montell, he’d found out and asked about it and who you had it for. 

You admitted that you liked Timmy and all your guilt practically spilled out to him. 

Bodie realized how bad it was getting and knew how important Timmy was to you too. And he promised to you that the two of you would do everything to get him back. 

And once you’d finally found Timmy, he’d practically cursed you out and your heart sank as you tried to explain yourself.

And the more and more he spoke, the more nausea you felt. That was until you turned and hurled up flower petals, blood dripping from your lips as you wheezed. 

Timmy, who had been practically raging, saw as the blood dripped from your lips as you collapsed right beside the cage.

You apologized as you wheezed, slowly explaining that you never wanted him to get captured and that you genuinely saw him as a friend. 

He became concerned and tried to ask you if you were okay and was trying to reach through the cage to grab you as you felt nausea causing your head to spin.

You continued to apologize as you felt yourself cough up more petals. 

Timmy remembers how Bodie had once told him a story of how one died from coughing up petals because of love. 

Poor baby tries to figure out how to help you, grabbing you by the shoulders as blood dripped down your chin. 

He asked who it was, who you loved. Even though he hadn’t fully forgiven you, he was concerned and couldn’t watch you cough up literal bloody petals and believe wholeheartedly that you were alright. 

You wheezed out a desperate “you!” as you collapsed against the wall. 

Timmy’s reaction wasn’t just one of horror, but of shock and despair. He remembered all the times Bodie had mocked him in light fun for being extra nice to you.

He asked how long you had loved him for, his hands shaking as he did. 

And when you’d said since the day you’d first met, his heart dropped. 

You sputtered more about how you thought he was cute and sweet and how you were sorry, over and over and over again, tears running down your cheeks. 

He had thought you were cute, for a human, that is, when you’d first met. And he’d thought you two were friends until the day he’d been taken. 

He was ultimately conflicted. His head told him that he was still angry, but his heart told him that he loved you. 

You wiped the blood from your lips as you continued to try to explain and he just lost it. 

He closed his eyes, pulling your face towards his, and kissing your lips through the call bars. 

Your heart practically skipped a beat as he did, and you kissed back. 

And once he’d pulled away, he blurted out how he loved you, okay?! How he thought you were cute and kind for a human, but felt betrayed when he thought you were to turn him in. But after you explained, although he was still cross with you, he loved you with his heart, and didn’t wish for you to hurt as you were. 

You felt a pressure dislodge from your lungs and you turned away, hurling a fully bloomed nightshade flower, before collapsing against the stone walls. 

Timmy tried to ask you if you were alright and you smiled, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. You told him that you loved him and that you feared for him and would’ve done anything to get him back. 

And he hugged you through the bars, and you hugged back, pressing a kiss to his brow. 

(Later, Bodie would find out that you were okay and all healed after admitting it to Timmy and Roland learned that he would soon have a child-in-law.)

Marco:

You fell for the flirty (probably british) croc boy. I don’t know how, I mean, I kind of do, but regardless, you fell for him. 

You’d probably get it after episode 3.75 when you meet Marco for the first time and he helps you with your leg. 

That night while falling asleep, you remembered the cute croc boy you’d encountered. You then remembered that you were a hunter, and that you could never be with him because of that. But you still love him enough for the hanahaki to fester. 

You go out to do your business one night when you cough up spotted flower petals. You cover them up with dirt and go back inside, hoping no one will find them. 

And no one does. You go about your days as usual with Timmy and Bodie, never seeing Marco. 

And then Timmy gets captured, and it only gets worse from there. 

While you and Bodie are travelling to Montell, those petals you were coughing up are accompanied by blood. And you’re careful so Bodie never finds out.

And after you leave Bodie and run into Marco, it just keeps getting worse. 

You’re happy to see him, you are, but the guilt inside you curdles like spoiled milk. 

He agrees to meet up with you later at the exit to the sewers, and you agree, hoping that the pounding of your heart in your chest is quiet enough so he can’t hear it. 

Between those times, you throw up bloody flower petals, and even a whole flower as the guilt and shame spread through your body.

But you clean yourself up and make yourself presentable, you can’t fall now. 

And meeting Marco at the exit to the sewers is easy, and so is coming up with a decent plan. 

But when you two are about to head back in, you feel it. The unmistakable feeling of flowers push up your airway. 

Marco asks if you’re alright, and if your leg is bothering you, but he receives no response.

It only takes a few mere seconds until you’re leaning on one of the walls and hurling out the petals, blood sticking to them like red maple syrup. 

Marco immediately rushes to your side, Maria squawking wildly. 

He would immediately recognize what was wrong, and what you had as you wheezed out petals and apologies. 

He would ask who it was, his tone was almost pleading. 

And after you looked at him, eyes watering full of tears and blood dripping down from your lips to the sewer floors, you would say the words. 

“You, Marco.”

And his heart would drop.

You loved him? 

“How long?” he would utter, his voice quiet. 

“Since the day we first met,” You would say. “I’m sorry,” the apology would tumble desperately from your lips. 

And if that didn’t split his heart in two, then I don’t know what would. 

You’d loved him since you’d first met him? Since he’d wrapped your leg and joked with you. 

And he’d seen you earlier that day, and you might’ve seemed a little pale, a little shaken, but he just thought that was because of everything that was happening and how terrible the arena was. 

But no, you were sick. You were sick because you loved him.

You kept spouting apologies, wiping your mouth of blood and petals, meeting his eyes shamefully. 

And what did he do? He grabbed your face and kissed your lips. 

And you froze. He kissed you? Does that mean he really loved you?

And when you two broke from the kiss, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in him as he apologized. 

You asked him if that meant he loved you, shame running its course through your veins. 

He would tell you that he does, and that he will. He would ask you why you didn’t tell him and you, you’d say it was because you didn’t think that he’d ever love you back. 

He told you that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

You smiled, before turning away and coughing out a fully bloomed spotted flower, free of blood. 

He made sure you were okay after that and you waited a few minutes in the embrace of the other before moving back through the sewers and back up to the arena. 

(Bonus: And if Timmy saw you two holding hands, he wouldn’t say a thing.)

Taglist (again, let me know if you’d like to be added):

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy@stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @not-5-rats @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @rustycopper4use @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @headstrashdump @reefhastoomanyaccs @giasparadise @iloveflowers-3 @celestartz @alrischadoeshit @weltthejellyfish @itsargyle

[paigesbasketball]

Echos of the Fallen

Chapter 1: A ghost in plain sight Shadow the hedgehog x reader Warnings: cursing/slowburn

Failure. Ghosts. Revenge.

If you had asked me to describe my life, those three words would sum it all up. Three words that captured the entire meaning of my existence. I wasn’t alone; I had a trusty team. Sure, I didn’t tell them everything, but I didn’t need to. They trusted me, and I trusted them enough. They were the closest thing I had to family, even if my real family had disappeared. My life took a turn for the worse once they were killed. I was put into foster care, bouncing from home to home… No mobian wanted a sad, broken girl who watched her parents get killed. The last thing my mother told me was to run. I was frozen as I watched a G.U.N. agent take her life.

When I aged out of the system, an old lady took me in and taught me to fight. She said she was too old to have kids, but she was fine with having me. I was quiet, did what I was told, and in return, she taught me how to defend myself. She would always say, “I will never leave a child in a world where they don’t know how to defend themselves.” Years with her taught me a lot. And when she died, I knew much more. She claimed that nobody should know who I really was if I wanted a fresh start. So that’s what I did. I went to a black site and bought a fake name and identity. As far as anyone knew, the old girl was dead—she died in a car crash. My "end" was my beginning. That’s when I found the closest people to my heart today… or what was left of it.

Scar: She's a high-level fighter, not better than me, who was kicked out of the agency for "playing too rough." I loved her from the start. Unless she trusted you, she played by no rules. I saved her from being homeless, so I guess that earned me her trust. Zero: A top-tier hacker who used his talents for the wrong reasons—greed. I don’t blame him; he was in a bad place, and he thought it was his last resort. Too bad the state doesn’t take fraud lightly. He did time, but got out on good behavior after helping the FBI. Once he was out of jail, I took him in. He started seeing me like a mother, and I made a promise to protect him. He was only 17. Viper: She was our supplier. I didn’t know much about her, but she had been jailed, and she knew everyone, though nobody knew her. She helped me out of a tough spot, and I’ve never had a reason to doubt her since. She was like that cool party girl who always knew what to do. Nova: She was our chemist. The weird part was she never went to school. I grew up with her in foster care, and when she expressed how much she loved chemistry, we clicked instantly. But she never went to school... She learned everything on the dark web. Part of me wishes she went to real school to make something of her life, but I knew she didn’t want to be normal. She hated normal. Her mother threw her into foster care because she was "weird." She didn’t like typical girl things, and her mother couldn’t stand it. Good thing we loved her for it.

September 28th, 5:00 PM

“Guys, come on, we’ve got 30 minutes,” I say, irritated. We have a mission to kidnap a G.U.N. agent for information—Carson Palo. A mid-tier lieutenant working for one of the higher-ups at G.U.N. The timing couldn’t be better—during the annual fall ball. G.U.N. hosts this event once a year, desperately trying to gain more money for their corrupt ways.

“Yo, Zero, we on the list?” I ask the finger-typing boy on his computer. He dramatically rolls his eyes.

“An art like this takes time, ladies,” he says with sass.

I roll my eyes. “You know what else doesn’t take long? Getting arrested,” I reply, matching his sass.

“Viper, how are we with G.U.N.?” I ask, turning to the cool-headed supplier.

“Looking good, Capt,” she says immediately.

At the Event

Scar and I make our way further into the event, both using fake names thanks to Zero. We spot our target, but not before I catch the eye of Shadow the Hedgehog. He stares at me, as though he’s never seen me before, and starts questioning the nearest person about my appearance.

I speak into my earpiece. “Girl, I think it’s time to wrap it up. A red-and-black hedgehog won’t stop staring at me. I think he’s getting suspicious,” I say, trying to get out of his line of sight.

Scar responds immediately. “Did you ever think maybe he finds you attractive? Or is growing old with multiple Chaos your thing?” she teases.

I roll my eyes. “First of all, Chaos are adorable, and second, I am not interested in anyone at the moment,” I say, scatter-brained, trying to move out of his view.

“Yeah, um... you trying to run from him isn’t working like you think it is. Just trust me, he’s hot on your tail, and looking hot, dare I say—”

I cut her off, “Get to the damn point.”

“Stop responding and listen. He’ll hear you. Keep walking until I say so.”

I follow her instructions, trying my best to avoid Shadow’s gaze. After a few seconds, Scar continues. “Okay, he’s seriously not giving up. I need you to distract him for, like... hmm... five minutes. Trying to seduce our target is hard, but I think I almost have it. The area you’re in is good. Turn around in three seconds.”

“Get me his name,” I whisper quietly.

I stop, take a deep breath, and turn around to be met with a handsome hedgehog staring back at me. Scar wasn’t lying.

Okay, five minutes. Four minutes, fifty-nine seconds…

“Hi, how may I help you?” I say to the grim hedgehog.

“Who are you? This venue is for G.U.N. agents only, and I haven’t seen you… ever,” he says, staring deeply at me, waiting for me to crack. Sadly for him, he wasn’t going to get that satisfaction.

“Well, I think the reason you haven’t seen me is because I’m new to the office,” I say smoothly.

“Wrong,” Zero’s voice cuts through the earpiece. “You don’t even work at G.U.N. Your persona is Danny’s wife.”

Shit.

“Hmph,” he mutters, looking at my name tag, which conveniently rests near my chest.

Fuck. I’m making Scar buy me an apple pie for this later... Two minutes remaining.

I slap him and raise my voice to draw attention. “YOU PERVERT STARING AT MY BREASTS! WAIT UNTIL I TELL MY HUSBAND ABOUT THIS!” I yell, playing the damsel in distress.

A few men rush to my aid and confront Shadow without even questioning who I am. Idiots... Men always want to be heroes without thinking.

One of the many reasons I prefer Batman over Superman. I wink at Shadow playfully as I make my escape out the back entrance. But a woman stops me.

“Ms., are you okay? Do you need to talk to someone?” she says, concerned.

I quickly form tears in my eyes. “N-no, I just need to be alone right now... T-thank you though. I just feel so violated.”

I rush out the door. It's been five minutes.

“Scar, I just put on a fucking performance. You better be done,” I say with venom.

“Yeah, I’m done. Calm your tits,” she says, letting out a snicker.

As I walk toward the van, I ask, “What’s so funny?”

Zero intercepts. “I don’t know what was worse—watching that ‘performance’ or watching an unscripted telenovela.”

He and Scar burst into laughter as I get into the van.

“Just erase me from the camera footage and shut up,” I say, taking out my earpiece.

“Is he out?” I ask Scar, curious.

“Like a light, thanks to this stuff Nova gave us.”

“Alright, time to do my favorite part. Interrogate.”

Back at G.U.N. (Shadow’s POV)

“Wow, Shadow, when I told you to flirt with a girl, I didn’t mean to violate them,” Sonic says, and Shadow shakes his head, brooding.

“I wasn’t looking at her breasts. I was reading her name tag because something was off about her. Yes, I admit, I initially followed her because I thought she was attractive, but I would never treat a woman like that,” he says, spitting with venom.

Sonic adds, “Ah, I believe you, buddy, but who was she? I’ve never seen her.”

Shadow rolls his eyes while sipping his drink.

“She said she was Danny’s wife.”

Sonic looks at him, confused. “What?”

“I didn’t further pursue after that,” Shadow says.

Sonic’s voice takes on suspicion. “Well, I don’t think Danny would care, considering he doesn’t have a wife.”

I nearly spit out my drink.

“WHAT!? Then who the hell was she, and how did she get past security?” I ask, confused.

“Well, wanna find out, buddy?” Sonic says with a grin. “An adventure with my buddy Shadow the Hedgehog sounds fun.” I scoff at the blue blurs enthusiasm.

All I cared about was one thing: Who the hell was that girl?

[autisticfaun420]

More on HSN autism and poop I guess

My most popular post by far is my one about my struggle with fecal smearing not sure why. I guess I’ll give you guys a follow up cause I want to talk more about incontinence and how it has affected my life. Sorry new to tumblr and I don’t remember what tags to use so OCD people can filter so I hope this intro is enough of a trigger warning.

I’m gonna be blunt about it, what’s worse then smearing though is just being in public stuck in a shitty diaper really for a couple reasons. I can’t stop myself from having bowel accidents in public, and when I’m having them too I *look* like I’m having one, I can’t stop my legs from squatting like a little kid and there’s often an accompanying sound to go with it. I wish I could say this in a nicer way but I basically go from the tolerable quirky R word to the ew so disgusting R word real fast. People go from smiling at me at least to going to openly degrading me and making comments like I’m not in the room. People get bothered real fast, I can’t blame them it smells bad but it doesn’t change the fact on how I feel inside once I became old enough to realize this was going on. It’s hard for my parents and caregivers to find a place in public to change me and it’s often impossible. The restaurants I eat at, the places so visit, are all dependent on me having a single room bathroom because a proper adult changing station is a pipe dream.

God forbid I have a diaper blowout (where poop goes up the back and out the diaper), then whatever small amount empathy people have goes quickly out the window. I used to like taking the bus with my dad, I can’t do it anymore. I had one blowout on the bus and people acted like their life was in danger “ew ew ew oh my god the r word shit everywhere ew” from someone not even close to where I was sitting, people telling my dad how my mom should of handled her pregnancy, I learned what an abortion was that day. People become blunt when they are mildly inconvenienced with a bad smell and they think it gives them a right to dehumanize someone. I know it’s disgusting but maybe there’s something wrong with me but I don’t think the reaction warrants it. Not when I’ve been at people’s houses and the dog shits everywhere and people go aww he’s just a little guy to the dog. I wish I got that kind of reaction as an autistic child, infantilization is at least better then telling me I should have never been born.

I wanted to write more but sorry I’m crying now. I guess I’ll end it on a positive note. I mentioned in a previous post how one of my high school friends, who grew up with little brothers and cousins, had no problems changing me so we could hang out. I’m not saying that’s an accommodation I expect anyone at all to make for me who’s not a parent or a caregiver getting paid for it, but the fact that he never acted grossed out when cleaning me healed something in me. I would be so embarrassed shitting myself in front of my “cool” neurotypical friends, I would be tearing up and I opened up about it and how embarrassing it is and he basically told me fuck the haters and it’s not something I can control. I didn’t ask for it. A part of me believed I was doing on purpose and carried guilt and guilt leads to meltdowns and smearing incidents. “What do you mean all the cool kids poop their pants” he would say sometimes to make me laugh. During our hangout sessions I would whisper to him “cool pants” or text him that so he could discreetly take me to the bathroom. He’d do it wether he was drunk, stoned, or sober. And like I said in the other post, he was the only reason I was able to have the freedom to hang out without a caretaker or parent in high school and we could all smoke weed together without my parents knowing. I think they did know what I was doing and just let me have my teenage fun, I think my parents thought the weed chilled me out too, which is true, so they let me do it but my cannabis use is a topic for another day.

[heeheesang]

midnight swings. ── .✦

written & smau at the bottom ! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

warnings ! crash out ? cuddling hehe :3

I ROAMED ON THE BEACH , EVERYONE WAS ASLEEP AND IT WAS A PERFECT TIME FOR ME TO YELL OUT MY FEELINGS .

it was currently midnight. i walked along the beach until i saw one drawing in the sand, " LEEHAN AND CHAER. "

oh. before i knew it, i blew up into a fit. i kicked the sand all over the place and yelled, "fuck this, fuck you!" i yelled as i kicked it continuously.

"why can't i have anything nice?! why must you always be taken away by other girls! i thought it would all be fucking over but fuck you kim donghyun for making me feel this way!!!" i yelled as i dug out sand with my hands, eventually getting tired and just sitting down.

tears fell from my eyes as i watched the waves, "why... why can't i have whatever i want... for the first time..." i cried in a soft voice as i stood back up and picked up shells, stones, anything i could find.

sitting on a nearby bench, i sighed as i brought my knees to my chest. my tears brimmed on my eyes, threatening to fall out with just a single blink. i looked down to my arms, the scars and bruises left from the time chaer pushed me into the ocean.

i winced as i touched them, feeling the same— or worse pain when it all started with jieun. i took my attention to the seas instead, salt water will cure my scars faster right?

but you can't swim, yn. oh yeah. i grunted as i looked at the shells and stones i have picked up earlier, taking one and throwing it into the sea.

"fuck you kim donghyun," i mumbled as i threw my last stone with full force. with a short sigh and a small smile, i got off the swing and made my way back into the penthouse.

opening the door, i found everyone in their pajamas with the lights on, their worried faces showing through the light. "were you the one screaming?" sungchan asked as everyone waited for an answer.

i sighed, placing my coat on the coat holder before shaking my head, "no? why?" i lied.

"we all heard a scream... and and we were scared because anton told us stories before we all slept..." shotaro replied, his hairs on his arms visibly standing up.

"eh, probably just a little girl... it's fine tho, go back to sleep. i'll keep a watch for you guys." i said as i sat down on the couch and turned on the television.

"aren't you tired? where did you even go?" chaer asked as i flashed a sarcastic smile, "none of you business. and i'm not tired so everyone can sleep." without a second thought, everyone ran up to their rooms and locked the doors behind them.

at least that's what i thought... until donghyun— leehan, sat beside me on the couch. "i know it was you. you suck at lying." he said as i rolled my eyes.

"shouldn't you be with your girlfriend?" i replied, not looking at him once.

"we're not even together... i have no idea why she posted that. i already told my mom about it—"

"shh, my show is starting." i hushed him up as i heard a small giggle. the whole time i was watching the show, i could feel his eyes on me, like he's burning me with his eyes.

before i knew it, a yawn escaped from my mouth. almost as soon as i yawned, "go to sleep pretty— yn." i shook my head as he giggled again.

as moments passed, my eyes felt heavy. i was already tossing and turning my head whenever my eyes closed. within a second, donghyun moved closer and pulled me to his lap.

"if you don't wanna sleep in your room then sleep here, with me." i whined, "i'm not sleepy~"

"i can see you trying not to sleep, angel... just close your eyes okay?" i gave in and closed my eyes. then he would feel uncomfortable with my head on his lap...

i got up to change my position and he widened his eyes. "lay down properly, you'll have cramped legs when you wake up later." i nagged as he chuckled, laying down beside me.

"is it okay if we cuddle? or are we still on bad terms?" he joked but i was too sleepy. i groaned and turned to face him, burying my face in his chest as i felt his arm wrapped around me.

a drop of tear left my eye, i missed this. before i knew it, i was long gone asleep.

⤶ back | mlist | next ⤷

⟢ accidental confessions (acc) taglist

╰┈➤ @rairaiblog @voikiraz @veerooniicaa

⟢ permanent taglist ( can be requested to be taken off ! )

╰┈➤ @hooneverse @sol3chu @yourssincerely-mimi @reikaxslvr @petralovesbonedo @enhabooks @mwahvvis @jaerisdiction @rairaiblog @jeonginontopforever

hhs' notes ── .✦ double update !! hehe :3