#and unfortunately every new piece of news that comes out makes me want to watch it less and less

[a-s-ter]

"𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆"

— 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: If you don't want your butler to reach a breaking point and take matters into his own hands by 'disciplining' you, perhaps refrain from behaving like a spoiled brat next time.

— 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: rough sex , unprotected sex , brat!reader , overstimulation , bttm male reader , blowjob , smacking , swearing , dirtytalk , praise , manhandling , dirty talk , age gap , virgin!reader , making out , degradation , petnames , non con , public sex.

PART 1 , PART 2

You sat at the long, luxurious dinner table while the maid nervously watched you eat the food prepared for you. As you took a bite, the maid grew anxious, eyes fixed on your every move. Moments later, a displeased expression crossed your face, and the maid seemed to brace herself for what was to come, as if she had expected it.

"blech!" you spat the meal you were eating. "This is disgusting! Make me another one!" you shouted, throwing the plate of food to the ground, shattering it into pieces. You glared at the maid, who nodded and hurriedly began picking up the broken fragments from the floor.

As the maid cleaned, your impatience mounted. "Move faster!" you demanded. Startled, she flinched, causing the shattered glass to prick her skin, blood seeping from the cuts.

You didn't care. The sight of her blood, her pain—none of it mattered to you. You were a just brat after all.

"Hurry up! I'm growing impatient, you vermin!" you scolded, your harsh words causing tears to well up in her eyes. She nodded quickly and, once done cleaning the mess, ran off to get your new food.

"He wants another dish." the maid announced to the weary chefs. It was the fourth meal you had dismissed.

"Again? What does that brat even like?!" one chef groaned, exasperated. "He's just toying with us. He enjoys seeing us suffer because he has all that power," another chef complained.

The butler, Kyzer, heard their conversation as he passed through the hallways. The chefs and maid flinched when he entered the kitchen. "S-Sir Kyzer!" bowed the maid.

"Oh, Kyzer, what brings you here?" a male chef inquired.

"Pardon me but I accidentally overheard one of your discussion regarding the unfortunate incident with the prince. It saddens me that the boy has, for the fourth time, squandered your hard-prepared meals. I intend to address this matter with him personally, in the hope of curbing this unacceptable behavior." Kyzer declared, his words resonating deeply with the maid and the chefs.

"Kyzer, we appreciate it, but you don't have to do that! We can handle him... I think?" another chef responded, though his voice wavered with uncertainty.

"I must. I don't want your hard work and efforts to go to waste," Kyzer said firmly, his resolve clear.

"K-kyzer, you're so kind to us!" one of the chefs exclaimed, clearly moved by his actions. "I just don't understand why M/n can't be more like you—polite, kind, and well-mannered, instead of such a brat!"

"Well, he's been surrounded by abundance and luxury his whole life. His parents never taught him proper etiquette, so I suppose that's why he turned out that way," another chef remarked.

"Hm... Would you also like me to teach him a thing or two?" "

"Yes! That would be wonderful, Kyzer! Please change his behavior if you can," the chefs pleaded, bowing deeply in gratitude.

"I'll do my best. Now, if you'll excuse me," Kyzer said, bowing before leaving the kitchen. He walked purposefully through the grand hallways of the kingdom toward the dining room where you were waiting.

A few minutes later, Kyzer arrived and opened the large door to the dining room. There you were, sitting alone at the long table, surrounded by empty chairs, waiting impatiently for your food with an annoyed cute expression on your face.

You turned to look at him, his long white hair and piercing yellow eyes sending a chill down your spine. "Who are you? And where is that maid? Why is she taking so long? Ugh!" you grumbled, sounding like a spoiled child.

"My name is Kyzer, your highness," he introduced himself, bowing deeply with one hand on his chest and the other arm behind his back. "The maid is in the kitchen, and it takes time to prepare a new dish for you, your highness." he explained, maintaining his respectful bow.

"Then make them cook faster. I'm getting impatient here!" you demanded, scrutinizing Kyzer from head to toe.

"I'm afraid I cannot your highness. I'm here for other reasons," Kyzer replied, straightening up.

"What?! How dare a lowly butler like you defy my orders?!" you exclaimed, shocked by his refusal. "What even is your reason here?" you demanded, glaring at him.

"You."

"W-what?" you responded, disbelief evident in your tone.

"I'm here because of you, Your Highness," he said, his yellow eyes boring into yours.

You felt a twinge of nervousness under his intense glare, but you weren't one to back down. Crossing your arms defiantly, you retorted. "Me? What for? If it's something insignificant, you get out of my sight!"

"Oh, Your Highness, it's far from unimportant because it's about you."

"About me!? Just what are you trying to say?" you replied while staring at him with perplexity and fury.

He was starting to get on your nerves.

"It's about your behavior and manners, Your Highness. They need to change—"

You snapped, standing up abruptly and grabbing a wine glass. You threw it at him, but it missed and shattered against the wall instead.

"Don't try and give me lessons about behavior and manners, it won't work on me you imbecile!" you shouted, your voice echoing through the grand dining room. As you met his gaze, you flinched at the intensity of his icy glare fixed on you.

You were slowly getting on his nerves.

Somehow, you felt a twinge of regret for your actions, but what was done was done, and there was no turning back. "I'm giving you a chance. I'll let this slide for now!" you scoffed, striding towards him and 'accidentally' bumping his shoulder as you headed for the door. "Tell the maids to clean up the mess." you ordered, but he said nothing.

Weird.

Just as you were about to open the door, he grabbed you roughly by the hair, eliciting a pained sound from you. He threw you to the floor, and you landed hard on your backside, hissing in pain.

"What the fuck are you doing!? If my parents hear about this, your head will be cut off!" you yelled, staring up at him, though part of you wished you hadn't. Behind those intense yellow eyes, you sensed something ominous lurking. Something telling you that something bad was about to happen.

"This is your last chance."

"Change. Your. Behavior."

You chuckled, "And why should I?" you raised an eyebrow, smirking defiantly.

"People are suffering because of you. Your crude and mean comments, your filthy mouth—they need to be purified. And I know you didn't receive proper etiquette, so I'm willing to teach you." he explained.

"Purified!? fuck off! They deserve it. I don't care whether I hurt their feelings or not, they're lowlifes! They don't deserve to be treated the same way. And those chefs and maids? They're just servants, working for us. They're poor, probably came from the gutter, ew! They don't deserve special treatment like us royals!" you retorted venomously.

And then he finally snapped.

As he walked towards you, confusion clouded your expression. "What are you doing—" but your words were cut off as he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you onto the table. You struggled to pry his hands away, but he was too strong.

"Get your dirty hands off me!" you shouted at him, but he ignored your protests. With a swift motion, he threw you onto the table, and you cried out in surprise. Landing with a thud, you quickly placed both palms on the table, using it to support your weight.

As you tried to regain your composure. He forcefully stripped off your pants and underwear, leaving your lower body exposed. Your eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. "Stop! What are you doing with those filthy hands of yours!" you cried out, feeling utterly vulnerable and violated.

You found yourself facing away from him, your exposed backside vulnerable and humiliating. As you attempted to look back at him, he forcefully shoved your head to the ground with his hand, preventing any movement. Struggling to rise, you found yourself pinned in place, utterly helpless.

"S-stop this instant! Someone could walk in here at any moment, you idiot!" you pleaded desperately, but he only inched his face closer to your ear.

"Count." he whispered.

"W-what?"

Smack!

"Wah!" you gasped in surprise as the sharp stinging sensation of his hand striking your exposed ass jolted through you.

"I said, count." he repeated.

"H-how dare you tell me what to do—"

Smack!!

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he delivered a firmer blow to your backside, the sensation igniting a mixture of pain and arousal that pulsed through your body.

"If you don't count, Your Highness, it'll only get worse and harsher," he warned, caressing your slightly reddened ass. "So please do as I say." he urged, his voice soft yet commanding.

Smack!

"O-one," you stammered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

Smack!

"T-two..."

Smack!

"T—..three." you breathed out, your face pressed down onto the table. Each smack sent a jolt of sensation through you, a mixture of pain and a strange, exhilarating—....pleasure?

He seemed to be truly enjoying your reactions, relishing in the cute gasps and flinches you let out. A smile spread across his lips as he gently paused the spanks, caressing your ass for a moment before resuming with renewed vigor.

Smack!

"f-four!"

As the spanking continued, it eventually came to a halt when you ceased to respond. Sensing your exhaustion, he removed his hand from atop your head, understanding that you had no energy left to fight. Your rear end was now red and throbbing, you had lost track of the count. With gentle care, he soothen your reddened cheeks, offering a moment of relief and comfort.

"How many was it, Your Highness?" His voice was tender as he sought to ground you in the moment.

"I... I don't know," you murmured weakly, your voice barely audible over the echo of pain.

"It's 26, Your Highness," he informed you, his fingers coaxing your face to meet his gaze. As you turned to look at him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire. Your flushed cheeks, those endearing hiccups, those captivating eyes, those cute lips...

Fuck... Every aspect of you stirred an undeniable attraction within him, you were turning him on.

He gazed at your lips, inching his face closer to yours, slowly, deliberately. You tried to turn away, but he held your face firmly in place. He was so close, close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, close enough to taste your plump lips...

Knock, knock!

The sound jarred him from the moment, a surge of frustration coursing through him. Damn it, he had forgotten they were at the dining table.

"Your Highness, your food is ready," the maid's voice came from outside the door.

"Now, if you cause another disturbance, you'll face another punishment. You don't want that, do you?" he said, his eyes locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity.

"F-fuck you... L-let me go and get my pants! T-this is an order," you demanded weakly, still exhausted from the pain and the effort of keeping your screams contained so the maids wouldn't become suspicious and barge in.

Kyzer was going to follow your orders, but his eyes darted down to your shaft, which was standing up confidently. "Are you sure, Your Highness? You're quite... hard down there. You wouldn't want an uncomfortable erection, would you?" he taunted, his hand lowering from your ass to your shaft.

"N-no, it'll go down. Stop!" you stammered, but a moan escaped your lips as he touched you. "Look at this cute little cock, so pretty, just like its owner," Kyzer murmured, beginning to stroke you. You let out a loud moan and quickly covered your mouth.

"Your Highness, may I come in?" the maid called from outside, oblivious to what was happening inside the room. Kyzer continued to stroke you slowly, the deliberate pace heightening your frustration.

"H-hurry up!" you ordered, your voice strained with urgency.

"You want me to hurry? Then beg for it, Your Highness," he smirked, his hand engulfing your tiny lil sensitive cock.

You were embarrassed and humiliated at this point. You, a prince, begging for something? It infuriated you, but the thought of your reputation being ruined drove you to comply.

"P-please hurry up, please let—hng!...M-me cum." you begged, your teary eyes locking with his mischievous yellow ones. He licked his lips, clearly enjoying your submission.

"As you wish, Your Highness," he said, his pace quickening as he stroked you up and down, causing your back to arch off the table.

"Mmhp!?" you moaned, drool seeping from your mouth as you tried to stifle your sounds with your hand. He began to tease the tip of your cock with his index finger, swirling it clockwise.

"Your Highness, please let me hear those beautiful moans... Please let me hear how good I’m making you feel," he whispered. Lost in the pleasure, you obliged, moaning louder, no longer able to control yourself.

"That's it," he breathed, his lustful eyes fixed on your flushed face. Drool was seeping from your mouth, your cheeks were a deep shade of red, and your eyebrows were scrunched up in pure ecstasy. The sight of you like this almost made him cum in his pants. "That's a good boy." he grinned, his own arousal evident as he continued to bring you closer to the edge.

"Are you gonna cum for me, Your Highness?" Kyzer's voice dripped with seduction, his smile widening as he saw you lost in pleasure. "Fuck... You're so adorable when you're messed up." His face flushed as he leaned in, licking the tears streaming down your cheeks. The sensation made you shiver, and he grinned, quickening his pace.

"Nngh—!... Ahh! I-I'm gon' c-cum!!" you cried out, your body trembling as you threw your head back.

"Cum for me, Your Highness. Be a good boy and cum for me."

"A-ahh~!" Your cute little cock spurted, painting the marble floor with streaks of white as you panted heavily, sweat glistening on your skin.

"Well done, Your Highness. I'm very proud of you~♡" he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I knew you could do it." He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Your Highness? Are you there?" the maid called from outside the door, her voice filled with concern.

"Let's get you dressed up, yeah?" Kyzer said softly, his voice a mix of amusement and authority. He retrieved your discarded clothing, his touch gentle but firm as he helped you back into your garments. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he adjusted your clothing with meticulous care.

You were still trembling, the aftershocks of pleasure making it difficult to stand. Kyzer's hands were steady, though, guiding you through each movement as he redressed you.

"Remember, Your Highness," he murmured, his lips close to your ear, "I will change your behavior. This is just the beginning." He smirked.

Once you were fully dressed, he took a step back, his eyes scanning you with satisfaction. "There you go, presentable as ever." He straightened his own attire, ensuring he looked impeccable before turning towards the door.

As he opened it, the maid stood waiting with your meal. "Your food, Your Highness," she said, bowing slightly.

Kyzer gave you one last meaningful glance, his eyes lingering on yours. "Enjoy your meal your highness." he said smoothly, before stepping aside to let the maid through.

[mydarlingclaudia]

bunnies love bouncing

note : divider is from @/aquazero. my mutuals have been making me think about ogre4 Leon more than I already do so this is what I spat out I know this kinda sucks. sorry I always have to write like eight paragraphs of lore before the smut starts it's who I am. Leon is ooc sorry I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO WRITE HIM dw about it kitten. I don't know how I feel about this one. mdni

wc : 1.7k

tags : @lottiies

desc : you're supposed to make him feel good, why not make him feel even better? smut!! - unprotected p in v, reverse cowgirl, light choking. little bit of fluff, fem!hybrid!reader, post re4og!Leon, not proofread.

The whole reason Leon got you was because you were supposed to be therapeutic, somehow. He didn't really understand how having a roommate he had to take care of was supposed to help him feel better, he didn't even feel like he even needed therapy, but the whole situation had been referred to him by some other agents in the DSO before Spain, but when you were the hybrid that had been picked out for him and you looked at him with your pretty little eyes with your cute rabbit ears twitching atop your head, Leon couldn't really imagine turning you away.

Leon can't help but be a little bit mean to you, you're so easy to tease and he loves the way your nose twitches and your foot thumps against the floor when you get upset. You always forgive him in a matter of minutes, anyway, all he has to do is open his palm and show you a piece of candy he had hidden away and you're already nestled into his side.

His least favorite part of having you might be having to buy you clothes. You take so long to try on everything, and you insist on showing him each new outfit you get to make sure it looks nice or that he likes it. And you always want these cute panties and bras, which of course absolutely had to be modeled for him. But whenever it came to underwear, you’d pull Leon into the fitting room, which made everything way too close for comfort, and you’d spin around and ask him if the underwear looked good on you and he’d have to pretend he wasn’t starting to feel hot. Not to mention how cute your little cottontail looked perched above your panties.

And you’re cute, always waiting by the door for Leon when he comes back from work, snuggling up to him so quickly that he has to pry you off of him to even be able to get his shoes off. He’ll tell you to scram for a few minutes while he unpacks his things and finishes whatever paperwork he had to take home with him, you always sigh and wander into the living room to watch tv, hoping Leon will be done soon so he’ll keep paying attention to you.

You got attached quickly, that made Leon feel kinda good, he supposed. Leon had to get your own flip phone for when he went away on missions, in case of an emergency or to order yourself pizza, but you ended up calling his agency more often than not. And you were allowed to since you were registered as a therapy hybrid under the agency, you weren’t allowed to speak to Leon directly when he was on the job, but Hunnigan would always let him know when you called and asked how he was doing, she always humored you, it was cute to her.

Having you around does make him feel a bit better, getting extra attention is nice and you’re always so sweet to him, Leon figures that taking care of you isn’t too bad sometimes.

He gets to see you naked every so often.

It’s cute, you always strip down to nothing when it gets too hot at night, it doesn’t stop you from sweating through the night, unfortunately. You’d always wander into Leon’s room come morning and ask him for a bath, trying to climb into his bed even when you were still naked.

The first time you had done it, he had groaned and held his hands out in front of his eyes to keep himself from oogling you for too long, but you had flopped down onto his stomach and just laid there for a few minutes while he debated whether or not this was a good idea or not.

It became more normal now, not that he minded, he likes to reach down and give your tail a gentle yank just to hear you yelp. Maybe even “accidentally” grope you just because he can.

You sit too close to him sometimes, too. Sometimes you’re on his lap, either facing away from him or with your head buried in his neck, either way, he’s gripping onto your legs, trying not to focus on how you’re squirming in his lap.

He likes when you curl up into his bed at night, you grip onto him like a bear-trap and don’t let go until morning. Leon’s aware of everything all the time, especially on how your lips are pressed against his neck, he knows you’re not trying to kiss him, but he can delude himself a tiny bit.

You were so sweet tonight, babbling about how you had missed him and how warm he felt. Leon couldn’t help but kiss your cheek, you had giggled as you squeezed him tighter and pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return.

Things escalated kind of quickly. One second you and Leon are kissing each other's faces, the next his tongue is down your throat, then the very next, your back is to him as you ride him.

Leon’s grip on your hips is almost bruising, guiding your body while your hands grip just above his knees to keep yourself upright. He can’t tear his gaze away from your cottontail, smiling to himself as he watches it twitch.

“You’re so cute,” Leon murmurs, pulling you down to meet his upward thrust. You groaned, your nails digging into his skin, Leon’s hands left your hips and trailed up your stomach until he cupped your breasts, yanking you back against his chest. “So sweet for me, too.”

His lips attach to your shoulder, planting kisses on any open space he could find. While his hips were busy rutting against you, driving his dick into you, his hands busied themselves with kneading your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingertips.

“You were such a-a blabber-mouth before, mm fuck, you’re finally quiet now, hm?” Leon teases, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your breasts.

“M-missed you,” You pant, moving faster to match his movements, you smile to yourself when he lets out a groan as you clamp down around him.

“I know, God- mhm- always so good to me. Just wanna make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“You’re doing a pretty good job. Sooo perfect, holy shit-“ He stops fucking up into you for a few seconds, letting you do the work as focused on the feeling of your hot cunt sucking him in. You had been so ready for him when he pulled off your panties, he couldn't help but drool a little at the sight of you all wet for him, couldn't hold back from giving your clit a few kisses and gentle nips, either.

Leon's right hand leaves your breast to move behind you, tugging at the tips of your droopy rabbit ears, tipping your head back a little bit as you hiss. He tuts, bringing the furry flap of cartilage to his mouth to press a kiss against it, finally deciding to start bucking his hips again.

Holy Hell, the wet sounds coming from the two of you were gonna be stuck in his head for the next two weeks, at least. Not to mention the noises falling from your mouth and the way you looked bouncing up and down on his cock, he'd have to have you facing him the next time you do this.

And you felt like you were on fire.

You weren't gonna tell Leon, but you've been wishing for this to happen since forever. And maybe it's dumb to crush on the guy who takes care of you, but you can't help it! Just like how you can't help humping his pillows when he's gone, or wearing his shirts when you have a whole closet full of clothes you asked him to buy you, but this was way better than any of that. You were willing to do this until you were all sore and Leon had to do all the work, you wouldn't even mind passing out.

And he felt better than any dream you could have, mostly because of how he's hardly giving you a break, but also because it's him.

You're pulled from your barely-there thoughts as Leon's bicep wraps around your throat, squeezing gently as your head tips back and his other hand shoots down to play with your clit. Was he trying to drive you crazy? Your hands grip his arm, fingernails digging into his flesh as you try to ground yourself, trying to take in as much air as you can in case he decides to squeeze harder.

"Feel good?" He mutters against the side of your head, smiling as you nod. His fingers poke and pinch at your clit, your own thrusts start slowing down as you begin to feel your orgasm start to coil up in your belly.

Your head droops down, resting against his bicep as his grip loosens, you almost whine when his fingers leave your clit to hold onto your stomach, keeping you against him even more.

"Gonna tell my boss to give you a f-fucking promotion when we're done," Leon pants, the noises coming from his mouth slowly becoming more needy, doing nothing to aid in stopping your arousal. "Cum, please. Gonna lose it. Shit-"

Leon offers up a few more hard thrusts before you feel the coil snap and you cum, biting down on his forearm as you breathe through your nose. Leon isn't far behind, his thrusts become lazy as he reaches his own high, his arm moves from your neck to wrap around your shoulder to hold onto you tightly, you shiver as you feel his cum coat your insides.

"Happy?" You mumble to him, tilting your head to rest against his as you teasingly tease his spent dick, listening to him groan while he weakly thrusts against you.

"Very," Leon presses a kiss to your head and loosens his grip on you, letting you rise off of him. "Let me see your face, next time." You turn to face him, draping your legs over his while you lay down on the bed and catch your breath. Leon should have gotten you sooner.

"You can see my face now,"

"Don't play dumb, you know what I mean."

[zoppa682]

For any nonhumans struggling with species dysphoria, I want to help you all as much as I can. I've been experiencing it all week. It can be quite exhausting and put you in a lot of distress, in my case. X(

Here are some tips I'd recommend to help:

1. Mimic the diet of your kintype/theriotype. You are a shark? Eat seafood. A dragon? Maybe try to burn some food a little (or turn it black like my own preference if you want). You kin a character from [Insert source]? Try recreating foods/dishes from their world or dimension.

2. Listen to relatable music. I'd recommend making a playlist of any songs that feel species affirming/euphoric, or even echo that dysphoria further, therefore turning it relatable. (Few of my favorites are Bones by Imagine Dragons, Control by Halsey, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA, Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage, among other songs that feel therian coded to me).

3. Do vocals. Howling, barking, screeching, or roaring are very relieving if you are in the correct space to do them! If you are in a quite space or do not want to out yourself to anyone, try purring, growling, hissing, or other unnoticeable sounds. You have an object kintype? Mimic the sounds of the object, like beeping, clicking, etc. (I personally make microwave sounds just because it is fun). Recite voice lines of your kintype from the source they are in. Mimic their voice and volume to match.

4. Move and physically act like your kintype/theriotype. Quadrobics, mimic the flapping of wings, walk bidepedally, whatever you do, turn your mannerisms and motion to reflect your kintype/theriotype.

5. Dress like your kintype/theriotype. Is your kintype a character? Cosplay them, or mimic their clothing style, clothing color, hairstyle, etc. If they have tattoos, scars, or patterns on their body, copy them on your physical form with paint or pens. (PLEASE USE NON TOXIC MATERIALS. STUFF SAFE FOR YOUR HUMAN SKIN.) Are you a species of animal(s)? Dress in your species' colors, or, once again, paint or color yourself like it/them. Are you perhaps any other form of creature or object? You can use the same tips as the others, and another idea that works for all is that you can buy costume pieces of your kintype/theriotype. Masks, headbands, just normal clothing in general, the options really are infinite.

6. Express your dysphoria through artwork. I love doing art when I am heavily species dysphoric. Drawing, crafting masks, origami, painting, collages, all are forms of art. If you are skilled in music, then you could even create some songs of your own!

7. Go out and explore nature. This one is mainly targeted towards therians, whose types are grounded on the life on earth rather than other dimensions or universes, but just like the other methods, it can be universally used by any types of nonhumans. Collecting things is my favorite way of exploring nature. Collect rocks, shells, sticks, leaves, bugs, plants, anything that makes you feel more comfortable in your own (unfortunate) physical body. Stay grounded in the world around you and you may find the dysphoria slips away. Hiking and going on short walks can also help, building a den, smelling the scents of the outdoors. All great ideas that I personally recommend.

8. Write about your feelings. Whether you are good at expressing yourself through poetry, you keep a diary/journal, or you can project onto OCs for new backstory lore like I do, writing can truly help with any dysphoria. Not only that, but it is sometimes refreshing to come back later and read about what you were feeling before. It can serve as a great reminder that you are a powerful being and you will always overcome the feelings if you try.

9. Research about your kintype/theriotype. It does not matter if you are an animal, concept, or object from earth, a being from fantasy, or a character from the greatest book or show, you learn something new every day. So why not learn about yourself? Read books or watch animal documentaries of your theriotype(s), same thing for you otherkins and your fantasy species. Fictionkins can look up facts about themself as a character, their book, show, game, etc.

10. Talk and interact with other alterhumans/nonhumans. Remember, we are a community, and while you are experiencing horrible episodes of species dysphoria, there are many other beings going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. So why not talk to them about it? Share your experiences, help eachother cope, you may even connect with more individuals that way, building more relationships with others and meeting new beings.

11. Past life meditation. If you are a nonhuman who has a past life/lives, you may find comfort in meditation, where you can truly tap into what you once were, and still are in this life as well. Look to the forgotten, and turn in to remembered. Open up your past and live over again.

12. Listen to sounds. Nature sounds, voices of other characters you know from your world, vocals or sound effects of your kintype. These are all good options to turn to if you want to feel at ease with yourself.

13. Let your emotions out. Sometimes this is all you really need to do when species dysphoria hits hard. Cry, bite things, claw at pillows, LET IT OUT. There is absolutely no problem in being yourself and expressing your heavy emotions in your own, unique, nonhuman way. You may find you feel much better after.

That's all I've got, but I hope whoever/whatever reads this far has an amazing day/night. You are an amazing being, thank you for embracing yourself and living authentically. <3

[starstruckgrrl]

Endeavor secretly into (literally, in, lol) Natsuo’s girlfriend👀👀

a/n: this is my favorite request so far, thank you! so sorry this took so long haha, i’m horrible at being punctual, but i’m doing a bit better! this is my longest fic 😭

┆︎ ☆ synopsis: natsuo always complained about his father, making him out to be such a bad person. when you finally meet him, you are mutually captivated.

↳ ♡₊˚. warnings: cheating, older man/younger girl, female reader, endeavor is a really bad father, choking if you squint, he destroys the necklace natsuo bought you, possessive enji

your boyfriend of 8 months still hasn’t introduced you to his family. initially, you had started to think that natsuo simply wasn’t serious about you. when you confronted him, though, he relented and told you he would introduce you to them.

a few days later, natsuo told you the plans. the two of you were to come over for dinner at the todoroki residence, and a movie in their living room after.

you were very excited the day of, purchasing a new formal but cute outfit for yourself that could show parts of your personality. as you got ready, natsuo was sitting on your bed and scrolling through his phone.

"are you sure i look okay, natsu?" you asked your partner.

"yeah, i'm sure. it's not that big of a deal anyways, my opinion on you won't change no matter what my stupid father thinks." he replies. ah. right. his father.

enji todoroki was seemingly the source of all of natuso's problems and anger. your boyfriend was usually very cheery, but when he was upset, 9 times out of 10 it was about his father.

you were still trying to head in with a bright smile, so you were opting to forget about the nasty (but small) pieces of information natsuo had given you about his father.

even if you hadn't heard bad things from your boyfriend, meeting the #2 is a nerve-wracking experience, especially meeting him as enji todoroki, and not endeavor.

unfortunately for you, you'll be meeting every other sibling for the first time as well. the only sibling he talks about is his deceased brother, touya todoroki.

you know their names, but not much more.

quickly looking at the clock, you noticed you only had a few more minutes before you had to go. you slipped on your favorite earrings, ready to go.

you turned to find natsuo up and next to you, with a small box in his hand. you looked up at him, smiling.

"is this for me?" you asked, your smile wide.

"of course. take it." he told you, holding the box out to you.

you grabbed it and gently opened it, revealing a beautiful silver necklace with his initial "N" in a cursive font as the pendant.

you gasped and hugged him, saying, "i love it! thank you!"

he hugged you back and pat your head before asking, "do you want me to put it on?"

"yes please!" you replied, as he put it around your neck and clasped it tight before letting it fall. it fit perfectly, and it was beautiful.

you thanked him again and gave him a kiss on the cheek. natsuo was always sweet, and he was handsome. especially in his cargo pants and his white button up, his hair brushed and looking nice.

"alright, let's get going. we don't want to be late. god knows my hardass of a dad won't let me hear the end of it."

fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you allow natsuo to guide you to the car and into the passenger seat.

~

arriving at the todoroki household was a bit of an ordeal. his siblings flooded you at the entrance and began asking many questions before you could even step in.

in the midst of a question the youngest todoroki was asking you, a gruff voice interrupted.

“enough. let her enter the house. it’s impolite to keep a young lady waiting on the doorstep.”

with that, you were ushered in by fuyumi. several feet away from the doorway was enji todoroki. bowing your head to be polite, he gave a small smirk at your manners.

in truth, enji believed that natsuo would have brought home an ill-mannered, clumsy woman to spite him.

he watched out of the corner of his eye as you took your shoes off to neatly place them by the doorway, and how you politely followed fuyumi to the living room, and then the dining room.

your soft smiles and small nods to show you were listening to the siblings captivated him in a way he couldn’t yet understand.

~

after a small tour of the house, everyone sat down in the dining room. fuyumi, with the help of shoto, created a beautiful spread of food. you lightly fidgeted with the hem of your dress as you all waited for enji to enter, and natsuo cupped your cheek and smiled at you to reassure you.

natsuo was very happy that everything was going well, and was secretly proud that his father hadn’t told him off for choosing an insufficient partner.

unfortunately for him, his father didn’t only approve of you, but he wanted you for himself.

walking into the room with his back straight, enji caught sight of his son’s hand on you, and felt a surge of anger go through him.

natsuo, catching sight of his father, put his hand down by his side.

enji sat, and after words of appreciation for fuyumi and shoto were shared, everyone began to eat.

as he eyed you, enji also began to feel guilty. he was trying to work on being a better father, but now he’s catching himself watching his son’s girlfriend? there had to be something wrong with him. but was it really his fault that you were so beautiful? truly, you were the most gorgeous person he had ever seen.

as he thought longer, his guilt began to abate. natsuo was always his least favorite child. always having to be right, always trying to one-up him in every argument, always acting high and mighty, even when he was trying to improve.

enji stopped his train of thought there, before he did anything drastic.

~

dinner went well, with everyone sharing a few laughs and overall having a good time. you were pleased that natsuo’s father had engaged in polite conversation about your career with you, sharing some of his wisdom and praising you for being a hardworker, even if what you wanted to do wasn’t deemed the most “important” by society.

his praise made you blush deeply even thinking back at it. the way his eyes changed and his mouth curved up to form a small smile. he held so much power, it was almost suffocating, but it was also like being engulfed in a sweet warmth, in safety.

he even considered you to be on his level, telling you that honorifics weren’t necessary. “enji,” he told you to call him when everyone else had stepped out of the room to bring in the dessert trays.

you couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to be with him - but you tried to stop yourself before you got too far ahead. he was your boyfriend’s father, a hero for god’s sake, he probably had bigger prospects than you.

you and natsuo began giving your goodbyes, putting your shoes back on, and walking out of the door. before you could make it out, though, you caught enji’s eyes. the look he gave you this time was different than all the others, filled with want, with need.

you smiled at him, letting your eyes close for a moment to give him a genuine smile. it melted his heart. why were you so perfect?

your brief shared moment was interrupted by natsuo guiding you out by your shoulder, the two of you walking down the pathway to his car.

his family stood on the doorstep, fuyumi and shoto waving you off with enji behind them. natsuo let his hand fall from your shoulder to your hips, wrapping his arm tightly around you to bring you closer. enji almost growled at the display. did he know how his father felt about his girlfriend? was he trying to display dominance?

enji shook his head and turned to walk back into the house, glad the long night was over, but secretly wishing you would’ve stayed.

~

in the car ride back, natsuo vented his frustrations.

“god, he’s such an ass. did you see the way he was staring at you? what’s his fucking problem?”

you stared out the window, not interested in his rant after a nice night. his father hadn’t said or done anything, so what was the problem? but natsuo’s next sentence caught you off guard.

“i bet he wants to fuck you. he’s such an old pervert.”

you flushed, stammering out, “w-what?”

it was unlike natsuo to use vulgar language like that, especially when it came to sex. he was usually attempting to use romantic, flowery language.

“i’m serious,” he said, “he was practically eye-fucking you. let’s never do that again, i don’t want you around him.”

you frowned, thinking about the good time you had with his family, but agreed to make natsuo happy. when it came to his father, you knew better not to push.

~

your time seeing enji todoroki again came much sooner than you thought.

natsuo had asked you, very dejectedly, to stop by his childhood home to collect the jacket he left there, only a week after the dinner night. he only asked because he was caught up with exams, and he thought fuyumi would be there.

she wasn’t.

you nervously walked up to the todoroki household, wearing a casual outfit with the necklace natsuo had bought you.

knocking on the door, you were greeted by enji himself, the man you were most nervous to see.

he wore a black t shirt with gray sweatpants, the infamous combination. you caught yourself staring a bit too long, and he smirked at the way you looked away shyly.

you explained in a small voice that you were here to collect natsuo’s jacket, and enji invited you in to wait in the living room while he tried to find it.

sitting on the couch, you were looking around the living room when he came back into the room.

“i couldn’t find it. he’s sure he left it here?” he spoke.

“yes, he said he was sure. he was nervous about letting me come back here, so he must’ve been confident it was here.”

you paled when you realized what you said. you just admitted to natsuo’s father that he didn’t want you coming back. fuck.

“oh?” he said, beginning to smile, “my son didn’t want you coming back? why would that be? i was sure we had a nice time.”

as he said this, he sat closely next to you, his hand next to your thigh.

his proximity made your nervous, and you decided to be honest.

“natsuo was, um, nervous that you…”

“that i?” he asked, leaning over to you.

“w-wanted, uh, to… do something? to me? i know it sounds really stupid, he’s just-“

“he was right.” enji finally said, and reached to hold your face as he started to kiss you.

you kissed back, passionately. you should’ve felt guilty, but, honestly, you weren’t even thinking about natsuo.

enji put his hand on your thigh, your soft skin exposed by the shorts you were wearing. he kneaded softly at your flesh as his tongue circled around yours.

you whimpered at the contact, his warm hands sent a tingling feeling to your lower half. your hands shot up to hold his head closer to yours.

as he kissed you, his large hands cupped your ass and lifted you up and onto his lap.

your pussy was sat right on top of his cock, which you felt throb, your thin shorts and underwear not doing much to protect you.

you felt yourself become needy, and you began to grind on his cock as the two of you kissed. he groaned into your kiss.

his hands released your ass to hold your chest softly, a contrast from his roughness when picking you up earlier. he didn’t want to hurt you.

appreciating his care, you pulled back from him to begin to take off your shirt, natsuo’s initial around your neck falling down to lay between the valley of your breasts. when you were left with only your bra, he beat you to unhooking it and tossing it on the floor.

“fuck. you’re gorgeous,” he groaned as he leaned forward to kiss and suck on your tits. his tongue lapped at your nipples, and you shivered from the contact. your hands held his hair, tracing small circles on his scalp.

when he pulled away, he pushed you back softly to lay down on the couch, the fabric softening your small fall. as you laid back, enji pushed your legs up and open, pulling off your shorts and ripping off your underwear out of impatience.

he came up to meet you face to face. his face only several inches away from yours. he slipped two fingers into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched and whimpered. he brought his face down to kiss your neck as he fingered you.

he almost came on the spot when you moaned his name, the syllables sounding so sweet when it came from your mouth.

enji pulled his fingers from you, and you pouted from the loss, but he ignored your pouts as he pulled his cock out and positioned it near your entrance, the swollen tip pushing into you.

his length was almost too much to handle, and his cock was thick and veiny. every ridge made you squirm as he slid into you.

once he was inside of you, he started fucking into you hard, pushing his cock all the way in with every stroke. his balls meeting your ass to create a lewd slapping sound.

he met your eyes to savor the faces you made, looking down to watch the way your tits bounced as he fucked you when he saw natsuo’s initial on your chest.

he reacted before he could think, his strong hand coming up to grab the necklace, the muscles in his arm flexing as he ripped it off of you, the chain shattering under his grip. he threw it across the room and kissed you, trying to stake his claim.

you felt your first wave of guilt, but you were distracted almost immediately by the flame hero circling your clit with his thumb.

you moaned out, and he smiled at you.

you were both approaching climax, and he knew it. he was determined to make you cum first, he grabbed your legs and spread them and held them up, your ankles hooking around your head as he pistoned in and out of your cunt.

your back began to arch, and enji brought a hand down to play with your clit again.

“hnghh, enji! fuck!” you screamed as you came around his cock, your fluids coating the base of his cock.

your squeezing brought him over the edge as well, cumming right next to your womb, continuing to thrust as you both rode out your highs.

he pulled out slowly, taking care not to hurt you as his cock began to soften. he pet your head. pushing loose strands of hair out of your face.

“are you okay?” he asked

“yeah, thank you.” you replied.

“let’s get you cleaned up. can you stand?”

you flushed again, “no, p-probably not…”

enji smiled, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom.

~

unbeknownst to either of you, your phone was blowing up with notifications on the coffee table. they read:

natsuo ❤️: i found my jacket babe. sorry! you can come back.

natsuo ❤️: babe? are you okay? i said i found my jacket.

natsuo ❤️: ??? what are you doing?

natsuo ❤️: please reply

missed call from “natsuo ❤️”

missed call from “natsuo ❤️”

missed call from “natsuo ❤️”

~

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh. 

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer. 

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity. 

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional. 

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes. 

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice. 

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim. 

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete,  well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features. 

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday. 

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task. 

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed. 

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening. 

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door. 

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in. 

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day. 

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips. 

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance. 

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person. 

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you. 

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?” 

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe. 

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came. 

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it. 

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches. 

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost. 

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you. 

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway. 

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to. 

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes. 

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego. 

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.” 

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now. 

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly. 

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life. 

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all. 

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

TO BE CONTINUED...

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!

[asunflowerana]

sunday couple — satoru gojo

summary: Satoru does anything for good and cheap food, especially making you his girlfriend.

warnings: satoru is on his early twenties, friends to lovers, lots of banter, gojo smooth like butter. wc: 1400+

a/n: satoru could take me to eat crickets, and I'd still follow this stupid gorgeous man.

The red, and yellow lamps hanging on poles illuminate Shibuya’s central square, crowded with citizens scouring the fair full of assorted supplies. The smell of cardamom powder from a spice stall enters your nostrils, making your nose numb as you try to follow your friend Satoru, the one who left you behind for a taiyaki seller. 

You never thought you’d be traded for a fish cake, but here you are. 

Satoru checks the pockets of his pants in front of him, taking the coins and handing them to the friendly old lady owner of the sweets. She gives him one small cake, and you can almost see him salivating with the piece of sugar in his hands. 

“Your grandma taught you to share, Toru.” You counter with arms crossed, at the same time as he fills his mouth with a good bite of cake, the chocolate ganache sticking out to the sides and smearing his fingers. He breathes in pure relief, and you wonder how hungry he really was since you both went outdoors. 

“It’s too small for two.” He has the courage — stupidity is better — to eat the last piece of the taiyaki in front of you, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the remains of bran and stuffing after that. You could cut his white hair right there. 

“Then buy me another one,Toru! I’m hungry too!" 

”Sweets aren’t good for your teeth, little ______.“ He sends you his special sunny grin, moving his hand to call you closer, his black jacket hanging loose on his shoulders. "C'mon, I’ll find you a diner. My treat.”

His smooth manner almost makes you forget for a moment that he had just refused to share that sweet with you. Not even a little apology, what a goon.

“You better,” Mumbling, you join his pace, walking right beside him as you both stroll through the park.

You were supposed to be at home watching the six-hour marathon of your favorite comedy show, but Satoru showed up at your door in the afternoon, puppy eyes asking you to help him pick out a present for Shoko’s birthday next week, and you couldn’t say no. Not only because you wanted her to have something nice, but because unfortunately, Satoru has a special power over your heart, that makes you want to say yes even if he shows up at 4 AM in the morning for a bike ride through town — which actually happened once, but that’s a story for another time. 

He had this infuriating power since third grade, when both became neighbors and he decided to kick a soccer ball right to your window, giving you quite the fright. You can remember the way you threw the ball on his chest, mad at the crazy boy who didn’t stop laughing and left without a single scratch. 

The crazy boy that owns a part of your heart, a part that you wish could be noticed by him. But Satoru has always been too unpredictable to read, especially when it comes to his emotions. 

A new smell, fried fish and miso soup catch your attention, and a man in his forty approaches you both, coming out of a small but attractive restaurant, izakaya type. He wears casual clothes, portraying a very large smile and belly. 

“Come close young couple, here at Goro’s house you’ll find Shibuya’s best of the best food to fill your hungry tummies, ho ho ho-” You both look at each other with the same frown on your faces. Does this man think you’re in kindergarten? 

Well, Satoru actually has the face, but anyway. 

“...and lucky for you, today is a couple's Sunday!” This caught your attention. 

“What do you mean by "lucky for us”, sir?“ The man’s eyes pop even more open, excited for more clients. 

"Every Sunday couples only pay half for the dinner combo! Here is on our board.” He points at the medium black slate place beside an array of plants at the izakaya’s entrance. 

“COUPLE’S SUNDAY: 50% OFF FOR COUPLES BUYING THE SPECIAL GORO’S FISH COMBO." 

"Wait,” Satoru gulps down, his hands almost trembling from such good news. “So couples really pay half for dinner?” 

He abruptly catches your hand in his, his warmth heating your skin and making your heart flutter in response. “Because we totally are!” He practically shouts that, with a huge grin on face like a kid spotting a candy store. He looks at you, shining marine eyes gazing at yours with excitement. 

“Right, baby?" 

You don’t even know how to react, completely shocked by the nickname that you’ve always daydreamed of him calling you. The way it comes out of his mouth, with his voice, it’s such a precious moment, you can’t believe it’s all for a ridiculous excuse to get a food discount. Before you realize your situation, you’re already seated by a diner table, your friend on the opposite chair in front of you, his goofy smile still on his face as he checks the menu.

His hand remains holding yours on the table, and you can already feel the sweat forming on your palm from the heat and your nerves.

"What… in the world just happened?” You blurt it out, confused as ever.

“Told you I’d buy you dinner, dear  _____. And guess what?” He leans his torso towards you, his chest pressing on the wooden table keeping you both apart. “They have free dorayakis for dessert." 

Rainbows could come out of him by now. 

”But we’re not a couple, you dumb!“ You hiss, leaning just the same as he did, worried that the customers around might notice your facade. 

”I know, we’ll just keep pretending and it’ll all be good.“ Satoru is really good at acting, talking to you like he was babbling sweet praises like those dorky clingy couples. 

He’s such a tease, and he doesn’t even know. Actually, you think he does know it.”Toru, this is not a—" 

A waiter comes to your table, making you both split from your previous position and sit right in your seats. From his trail, he places on the table bowls of udon, plates of unagi, portions of tempura, and green tea. The smell from the steam coming out of the dishes is so amazing, that the only thing your brain processes now is food.

“You were saying?” Satoru playfully questions, thanking the waiter before picking up his chopsticks and digging the thick noodles before him. 

“…..Fine.” You surrender, not really having the strength to refuse this. “But if there’s only one dorayaki later, it’s mine." 

"We can share." 

”But sweets aren’t good for your teeth, little Satoru.“ You mock him right after sucking a noodle into your mouth, the food tasting much better now that you can see his speechless face scrunching up. 

"That’s totally unfair!” He protests, crossing his arms with a pout, a piece of nori on the corner of his mouth. “I’m your boyfriend, you should treat me nice." 

You wish your heart wouldn’t beat so fast. 

But since you’re both pretending, you may as well enjoy it. "First lesson for you: don’t ever let your girlfriend be hungry. Ever." 

"If I give you all of my tempura, will you share the dorayaki?” You hum, pretending to think. “C'mon now, baby! I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’ll think about it.”

In the end, you let him have a good bite of dessert, which is kinda fair since he was the one paying for the whole meal. That dinner really made you heavy, tummy full of food, completely satisfied and pleased. You even wrote down the name of the place, to come back with your friends in another opportunity.

And it seems that your friend also had a similar idea. 

“Are you free next Sunday?” He asks, walking ahead of you, his gaze facing the starry sky as he ponders something alone. 

You know sometimes he likes to venture ahead to ease his mind when there’s something on it, so you don’t mind him going a few feets ahead, knowing he’s still aware of your surroundings even if you’re behind him.

Satoru never failed to protect you. 

“You’re not planning on doing the dating story again, right?” You chuckle, sensing that this will become a Sunday routine for both of you. “They’ll start suspecting if we keep coming every week, you know we’re not really dating.”

“Then let’s date for real.” And again, he turns his wholesome blue gaze towards you, offering another one of the famous, breathtaking Satoru’s grins. But in this case, this one is reserved only for you. 

“How about that?”

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[luvrxbunny]

slim fit

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Prompt: Uniform

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, a bit of body worship, dry humping, cum in pants, reader doesn’t cum (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.6k

A/N: i kinda like this one i think! i hope u guys do too (not proofread) here’s the suit i’m taking about!

He walks through the door and your heart skips a beat, happy and relieved he’s home. You’ve been missing him all day, your period is on its way, making you a bit more emotional and sensitive than you usually are. “Baby! Welcome home, my love.” You get up on your tippy-toes and wrap your arms around his neck, breathing out a sigh when he wraps his hands around your waist. “Hola, amor. D’you miss me?” His voice is thick with tiredness from the presumably stressful day he’s had. 

You pull back and nod at him happily, he leaves his hand on your waist as he smiles down at you. He looks you up and down and his smile widens. You’re still wearing your suit with one of his zip-ups thrown over. He, unfortunately, hasn’t gotten around to making your digital suit so you still struggle with this one every day, usually opting to wait for him to get home so he can help you take it off. “How long have you been home?” He asks and gestures to your outfit while walking to the kitchen, leaving his work bag by the door. “It’s been maybe an hour or something—? I don’t know. I just miss you when you’re gone, seconds turn to hours.” You add a dramatic sigh to your voice that pushes a laugh out of his chest. 

“You need to figure out how to take this off without me, cariño.” You shake your head and ignore him, sitting on the counter beside where he’s making himself a little sandwich. “No, I don’t. The stress-” He hands you a piece of turkey and you instantly start snacking on it. “The stress it creates, along with the anxiety of like- what if I get stuck and you’re not home for another hour or something… or! Or what if I tear my suit?! I don’t have time to wait for a new one?!” He shakes his head with a silent smile as he takes a bite of his sandwich. 

“Mhm.” Is all he says, obvious disbelief in his tone and a teasing smirk on his lips. You sit up and look at him with a shocked, stern face but your smile can’t help but break through. “Okay. You don’t get it, alright? You have your fancy digital suit.” You give your voice a nasal tone as you tease him and his suit. He almost choked on his sandwich while laughing at you. He puts it down and wipes the crumbs off his fingers before walking in front of you. He places his hands on his hips and gives you the sassiest look. “I used to have a normal suit y’know. I was able to get out of it just fine. 

This is news to you. You thought Miguel had his digital suit- or a digital suit since he started his spider career. You need to see it now. “Where is it? Go get it! Put it on! Now!” You’re off the counter and pushing him into the bedroom while he laughs instead of answering. “It- It’s in the closet but- Baby!” He cuts himself off with a laugh as you shove him so hard he almost falls over. He holds your wrists, stopping your assault as you giggle at him. He leans down for a kiss to calm you down but you’re both just smiling against the lips of the other. 

“It might not fit me anymore!” You stare up at him with an evil smile. “I. Don’t. Care. Please put it on!” He watches you for a moment, seeing how badly you want to see it in every feature and emotion that flashes over your face. He wants to make you happy, it’s all he wants, so of course he caves. “Fine.” You’re instantly jumping up and doing a little happy dance with the widest smile he’s seen on you all day. “But you have to wait in the living room.” He’s gently pushing you out of the room. “You don’t get to watch me struggle.” You giggle at his words and nod, removing yourself from his hold and sitting patiently on the couch. 

 It feels like an eternity before he comes out. He turns the knob as slowly as he can, and a smile spreads over his face when he hears a soft gasp and noises that sound like you scrambling to get off the couch. He feels a bit of anxiety seep into his previously positive feelings. This suit is a lot tighter than his digital one, he can’t adjust it to his body type and he hasn’t even seen himself in it for years. He doesn’t know if he’s as muscular in all the places he needs to be, the suit might be baggy and unflattering. But he can hear your excited little breaths on the other side of the door, he can already see the smile that’s undoubtedly resting on your face. He’d give anything to see it in real life, so he pushes through his embarrassment. 

You’re bouncing in place as he opens the door at the speed of a snail. Once you can see him though… it’s over. Heat is flooding your veins and you take a deep shaky breath to regulate the shock from how you’re already drenching your underwear. He’s standing there, his legs pressed together, tilted inward and his hand holding the opposite forearm, uncharacteristically shy. He’s getting visibly restless the longer you take him in but you can’t bring yourself to stop. His suit is pretty similar to his other one but it’s white instead of blue. He doesn’t have the mask on so his curls, and an amazing contrast to the white and it makes his eyes pop, piercing yours every time they meet. The main issue you’re having is how tight it is. He’s obviously filled out since the last time he wore this suit, the biceps bulging and the fabric over his thighs pulled so tight that you’re afraid it may rip. The neckline is warped from the way his shoulders are stretching the fabric and his crotch… it seems impossible that his dick has gotten bigger since he wore this suit but the way it’s basically screaming at you makes you believe that it has. 

You’re entranced by his body but you don’t want him to get too uncomfortable so you finally speak up. “Miguel.” You take a step toward him, eyes on his chest instead of his face. “You look so good, honey.” He sucks in a sharp breath at your words and his eyes widen for a moment before fluttering back to their normal state. “Really? It’s- I think it’s too-” You don’t let him finish his nonsense. “You look incredible, so strong.” You squeeze his bicep for a moment before letting your hands run all over him. It’s like he’s naked. You can feel the definition of every muscle your hand runs over, the way they tense and he shudders.

He’s getting unbearably hard in his pants, one of the inconveniences he does not miss about a physical suit. Usually, this would be the part where he just dissipates his crotch and your hand is on his cock in an instant… but instead, he’s just pressing into the fabric, the restriction getting more uncomfortable by the second. He tries to ignore it, you never explicitly stated that what you were doing has sexual intent so he’s worried about being a creep. But fuck your hands feel so good he can’t help it. He’s fully hard by the time you’re done admiring his arms, moving on to his chest where his nipples have pebbled up for you. 

You raise an eyebrow at him but he keeps his gaze straight above your head, pretending his face isn't currently in flames at your admiration. You save him embarrassment and say nothing but continue your appreciation of his body. You know he’s getting hard in his pants, you both are so in tune with the other that any time you’re horny; 9.5/10 Miguel’s feeling the same way, and it goes both ways. He subconsciously puffs his chest out once you place your hands back on him, pressing his nipples into your hands. You peek up at him and catch his eyes closing softly. You press your palms into his boobs before digging your fingers in, fondling him the same way he does to you and a whimper slips out of his mouth at the feeling. 

He’s started to leak in his pants and he’s growing increasingly desperate. He’s almost at his limit, his body is already too turned on, all his senses cranked up making your touches feel more intense than they already are. The softness and sensuality of the entire interaction is really clouding his head, it only gets worse once your hand leaves his chest to cup his bulge gently. His eyes snap open and his hands come to your hips, walking you back to the couch while leaning down to capture your lips in his. You release a contented moan into his mouth when his tongue licks in, tasting your mouth and rubbing against yours, dancing with it. 

He crashes on top of you once your legs hit the back of the couch and force your knees to give out. He growls above you, a low, grunting sound as he pulls at your suit desperately, trying to take your bottoms off, or your top but everything is just stuck to you, like a sausage in its casing. “Fuck!” He whispers out to nothing, his voice sad and desperate for you. You cradle his face and flip the two of you over slowly, seating yourself in his lap and grinding over his bulge the moment it touches your needy pussy. His head gets thrown back and his hands on your hips immediately go to work, grinding you over his bulge. “This is why I need-” You’re cut off by your moans as Miguel re-angles you so you’re more leaning on his thigh, right over the tip of his dick, pressing right into your clit. 

He breathes out a sigh of relief as his cock starts pouring into his pants, precum draining from his cock, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. Your hands go back to his chest, shoulders, and arms, feeling like heaven over his suit, pressing through his sensitive skin. He whines and forces you onto his dick more forcefully, trying to get as close as he can with this stupid fabric separating his skin from yours. You grip his sides and press your thumbs into his nipples, relishing the way his breathing speeds up and his moans devolve to whines. You begin to bounce yourself in his lap gently, adding more force to your grinds, simulating that you’re actually riding him. His hips begin to thrust into you, adding to the friction between the two of you. “M’close.” He whimpers into your ear as his body folds in on itself, trying to fight the pleasure you’re feeding him with. 

His words encourage you to double your pace, wrenching a high yelp from Miguel as his hands still your hips. “N- I can’t-- Not in the suit, I-” You’re out of his lap on your knees before he can catch his breath enough to form a proper sentence. Your hand makes itself comfortable over his bulge, pumping him through the fabric, just to keep him on the edge without pushing him over. You just watch him like that for a little bit, his hands gripping the armrest with his eyes shut tight and his stomach tensing over and over to fight the urge to absolutely fill his suit. A devious smirk spreads over you when you realize he’s not going to open his eyes, he can’t. If he does he’ll cum. 

You lean forward, your face right above his cock but still looking up at his face. He’s none the wiser to your movement. You place your lips over where his tip is leaking through the fabric and suck as hard as you can, almost choking on the little bit of precum that shoots to the back of your throat. He gasps so suddenly that his throat seems to close in on itself, letting out a strangled noise before you feel his hands shoving your face further into his tip as his hips tilt up. 

His warmth is flooding your mouth, slowly making its way through the fabric as he groans raggedly above you, grinding into your face sporadically. You bring your tongue out and lap it over the rough fabric, teasing and overstimulating his tip as he gives you more ropes of cum, shooting right over your tongue and you moan at the taste. He slowly collapses back onto the couch, all the tension gone from his body, all his limbs loose.

You climb into his lap, careful to avoid his sensitive cock, and nuzzle your head into his shoulder while watching him pant at the ceiling. His head falls to the side, his eyes hazy and clouded when they open to meet yours. His eyebrows draw in for a moment and he whimpers softly “M’gonna make you cum, jus- just give me a minute.” He sounds delirious as he says it so you know it’s a promise he’ll break but you don’t mind. You nod at him softly, like an adult would do to a child who's making no sense. "Mhm. I know, baby." He smiles softly at your response. You’d do it again even if you knew he wasn’t going to get you off just to get him like this, all soft and pliant.

You stroke through his hair as he calms down and you don’t even slow your pace when you start to hear snores work into his breaths.  Instead, you let the calming motion of his chest rising and falling, slowly rock you to sleep… both of you still in your suits. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[californ1asnow]

Call Me Up Again - pt. 2 Mike Schmidt x Reader

Part two of All Too Well Angst!!! So much angst everyone I've decided to turn this into a miniseries, this post being the second part. I'll continue to link chapters as I post them This is also being updated on ao3 (cough cough) No warnings this time 1.9k words

Snowflakes fall silently, coating everything around them in a white dust. The wind blows with a crisp chill, nipping at all the rose-pink noses. It sends shivers down the backs of those who dare be out in this weather. The pumpkins and fake graveyard decor that had once littered every home’s front yard has long since been swapped for tinsel garlands and pine wreaths. 

The Schmidt residence beams with colored string lights and holiday music. A tall, sturdy evergreen sits patiently by the window. Its branches are decorated with years worth of homemade ornaments, ranging in all size and age from both Mike and Abby. The red skirt beneath it falls relatively empty of presents, only donning the few small ones Mike could afford to buy this year. They’re wrapped pathetically in an old birthday paper, the only wrapping Mike could find to reuse. 

Usually, the tree is so full that he’s had to store things in his closet, but that was when you were still a part of their Christmas. Stockings hung happily above the fireplace and a love so innocent it wraps the house in a warm glow. However, it’s void of that feeling now, instead Mike is left to pick up the pieces that you once fit together. Abby doesn’t understand why you don’t come over anymore, or why Mike has been so quiet lately. All she knows is that something went wrong, and now everyone is upset. She’s stopped bringing up your name in conversation when talking to Mike, because it always ends with him withdrawn and retreating to the solidarity of his room. 

That didn’t stop her from drawing you, though. Sometimes she’d sit at her desk, tears collecting in the well of her eyes, and doodle old memories of the three of you. She remembers them being happy, but by the time the crayons were set aside and the picture was finished, it was a glum mess of dark blues and frowning faces. 

After a drawing is finished she’d slip past Mike’s room, quietly tiptoeing out the front door, and make a break for the house across the street. Your house. She’d work fast, her feet carrying her quickly to and fro. It was unclear from her perspective whether you paid attention to what she’d give you, but by the time she slipped a new piece of paper underneath your door, the old one she had gifted you was gone. 

Mike was unaware of it all. 

He had found a new job in town where he could bury all his thoughts. It was working construction for a local contractor, a job that certainly wasn’t ideal but it paid better than what he’d been used to. Unfortunately, it required longer hours and ate up all his free time, meaning Abby needed a new babysitter. A job that was once happily filled by your company, now replaced with an afterschool program suggested to him from a flyer he found at work. He hated the thought of her sitting in essentially another classroom, surrounded by strangers and snotty kids, but it was his only option left. 

With a third of his paycheck dedicated to it, Abby now spends her weekdays at the nearby YMCA. 

The first time he told her about the new program didn’t go over very well. He remembers it clearly.  

“Abby please,” his irritated voice interrupts her incessant protesting, “listen, it’s the only place that can watch you.” 

“No it’s not!” She yelled at him, her finger pointing to your house across the street, “I want her back!”  

A pang of guilt struck his chest at her words. The lack of your presence has clearly been taking a toll on the both of them, but it’s the first time Abby’s ever been so vocal about it. He crossed his arms with a sigh, watching his little sister stare up at him with solemn eyes. Her lip quivering ever so slightly, evident that she’s holding back tears. 

He crouches down to her level, just like he had done to you so many nights ago, “I’m sorry,” he pleaded with her, “but she’s not coming back right now.” 

Her head shook with disbelief, stubbornly stuck in her spot, “Then make her come back.” 

–

You’re not sure when the Mike shaped hole in your heart stopped aching, but it’s significantly less sore compared to a fresh wound. That’s not to say the constant reminder of him and Abby living across the street from you doesn’t sting. It’s hard enough to ignore all his calls, but trying to get to your car while avoiding his gaze is even worse. Eventually, he gave up on contacting you by the third month of radio silence. It hurt both of you, but you knew deep down neither of you could continue functioning like how you were. 

The back and forth pull of his affection took too big of a toll on your mental well being. You can remember every moment down to the exact detail of how much you craved for him to just do something, anything. 

All those times you held him in your soft embrace whispering sweet nothings in his ear, reassuring him everything will be okay, just for him to turn around the next day and never bring it up again. Or when you’d run your warm fingers through his hair to calm him down after a panic attack, and he’d let his head rest in your lap. Words of affection dripping off his lips like a rich honey, warming you up from the inside out. Then he’d disappear for a while, claiming he needed some space to figure stuff out, all the while you’d beg and plead for him to tell you what’s on his mind, only for him to give you nothing back.You stood by him regardless though, keeping a silent promise that you’d always be there for him when he needed it, a love that was never reciprocated back. 

A long sigh escapes from you, eying the new delivery that just appeared by your door. You shuffle towards it weakly, unsure if you really wanted to torture yourself by looking at it. It’s one of those things that curiosity will drive you to do, unable to ignore it like a pedestrian passing by a car crash. The paper crinkles under your touch, unfolding it reveals the familiar childlike style of Abby’s drawings. A man drawn in green crayon frowns up at you, holding hands with an equally sad looking child. Your gaze drifts over to the other side of the paper, highlighting a person relatively similar to you standing alone with their arms crossed, angry. Your heart hurts at the sight of it, knowing that Abby is implying that you’re angry at the two of them. You shake your head quickly, trying to evade any tears that threaten to spill. It’s not fair for Abby to be caught in the middle of whatever is going on between you and Mike, and you realize that. 

The sound of your phone ringing breaks your train of thought, and when you check the caller ID your breath hitches. Standing in the middle of your living room frozen with indecisiveness, you stare at the screen while chewing on the bottom of your lip. Without thinking, you accept the call.

“Hello?” 

There’s a sound on the other end of the line, somewhere in between a choke and a gasp, and then your name is mumbled out in disbelief. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually pick up…” Mike’s voice is still a little startled, mimicking the internal panic in your chest. 

You suck in a deep, steady breath before answering, “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” There’s a slight pause from both of you, unsure how to continue the conversation. It’s felt like years since you last heard his voice. 

“Are you…doing okay?” 

“...Yeah.” Your answer is unconvincing, but Mike doesn’t have any ground to be able to question it. So it’s left like that, timidly dangling in the air between you both. 

You hear shuffling in the background, and a smaller voice asking a question before he dismisses it. Your heart lurches thinking about how Abby is there, trying to figure out who her older brother might be on the phone with. It almost makes your cool demeanor crack, urging you back into your savior complex. 

“Uh, sorry about that,” your phone crackles back to life, “anyways, I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Oh okay.” 

“Can you,” he stops, leaving you on edge, “meet me somewhere?” 

The lack of response from you causes him to start rambling, going on about how it would be better to talk in person, and how it would be easier if you could see each other’s expressions. Soon afterwards, a string of apologies ensue, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

“Okay Mike. Promise me this will be worth it.”

“I promise.”

–

A young waitress stares nervously at your booth. Orders continually piling up, hungry customers giving her rude looks whenever she ignores their impatient huffs. It’s been a good thirty minutes since you first showed, and she’s checked up on you at least a handful of times by now. Mike had suggested this little diner down the street from your house, and you agreed to meet here. 

However, it seems like you’re the only one who showed up. 

Your back is pressed against the uncomfortable foam board of your seat, a leg bobbing rapidly out of habit. You pick at the pills on your sweatshirt sleeve, trying to avert your gaze from the sympathetic waitress. Prior to your predicament, she had asked if you were dining alone, and you told her no. However, It’s starting to look like you just might be. With anger bubbling inside of you, a voice in the back of your head is saying you should have seen this coming. It’s so typical of Mike to make promises that he’s unwilling to keep. 

The air smells like grease, mostly from the old fryers sitting in the back of the kitchen. Oil bubbling and brooding in their tanks, waiting for someone to drop a morsel of food so it could shrivel in the scalding lard. Stomach stirring with disgust, a wave of nausea washes over you. It’s unclear exactly what’s causing it, you’d like to give credit to the sleazy restaurant, but something deep down points to the lack of a certain person’s company. 

You keep your attention trained on the dwindling heat of your coffee. Both corners of your mouth scrunch downwards at the smooth ceramic now held in your cold hands. When did watching a cup of coffee become so interesting? 

“Would you like some more?” The sweet but timid waitress asks you, now back at her spot beside your table.  

A joyless smile flashes across your face, a futile attempt at masking your dejection. Pushing the cup forward, silently accepting a fresh refill from her kettle. 

“He’s not worth it.” She adds, tipping off your mug. Her eyes refuse to meet yours as she does so, and you are thankful for that fact. 

“No,” you respond back, “he never is, I guess.” Your voice is shaky, as are the hands that are folded in your lap. 

Mike is not worth the years of being hurt and pushed away. Not worth the tears that fall after coming home from a night spent at his house, inconsolably sobbing because you know no matter what you do it leads back to the same thing. To give up all your time, love, and patience just to receive nothing in exchange. 

It’s not worth the unrequited love. 

“Can I have the check please?” You ask quietly, still avoiding the gaze of the girl next you. 

Her head shakes with pity, fingers wrapping around the arm of the kettle, “it’s on the house.”

TAGLIST - @wriothesleysbimbo @psbc @victimsofadownn @that1lxnlybxch @callsignwidow

[panda-writes-kpop]

your home is the sea, my home is you ~ pirate! giselle

a/n: after almost seven months (good LORD), we have a third pirate aespa fic!!! and everyone cheered!!! this may be one of my favorite works of the year, there's something so tender and sincere in this fic that I can't quite put my finger on. anyways, gonna go watch Hugh Jackman edits on repeat until I get more fic ideas! 🫶

tw: mentions of robbery, violence, and other crimes associated with being a pirate, a LOT of swearing, the faintest hint of winselle, it's not angst but it gets sad at times???

summary: Your idea for your latest novel has you ruminating on your previous relationship with the woman who haunts your dreams, Giselle. Giselle's longing for a missing piece of her heart leads her to your front doorstep. She just has to hope that you won't close your heart to her, just as she did to you years ago.

♡ Masterlist ♡

A cool ocean breeze wraps around her neck as the chill of the night starts to seep into her bones. Every part of her is screaming to run, to go far away from the things that scare her.

But what is life without a little bit of adventure?

You watch the pendulum in your grandfather clock swing forward as the next words flow easily onto the paper.

She wanted to experience the adventure of the ocean, to let her heart travel with the ocean waves that beckoned her forward. But what was she to do? Abandon her family? Leave the familiarity of her hometown behind?

Leave them behind? The one person who supported them through thick and thin?

The pendulum swings back as you stare at the candlelight in your bedroom.

Rosella had a choice to make, one that would decide her entire destiny. A friend, or a lifetime of fulfillment?

Their call was strong, but the ocean’s was stronger. 

~

With one hand on your naval revolver and the other on your bag, your feet hit the ground with increasing frequency as you run towards the docks. You had a deadline to meet with your time and your writing. The traveling night market was in town tonight, and within their merry caravan of travelers was your editor. A shrewd old woman with a sharp tongue who had been your mentor since you had abandoned your studies to pursue writing as a career.

I would’ve stayed if Giselle stayed.

You shake your head at the thought of your childhood best friend - you were nothing but a fleeting nostalgic memory to her, so she should be the same to you.

The book, the market - I have to hurry.

Unfortunately, the night market only accepted incoming foot traffic until midnight, and according to your grandfather clock, it was a centimeter past eleven-fifty. Your home was ten minutes away from the docks - you’d be cutting it close if you were simply walking.

~

“You’re early.” The guard jokes as you pull out the business card that Merrin, your editor, gave to you. “She still edits your books?”

“As long as I keep writing them.” You fold your arms as the guard stares at the card. “Can I go in?”

“Try to make it quick - she’s in one of those moods again.” 

You pluck the card from their hand before waving at them.

“She’s always in a mood, but I have to hope that it’s a good one.”

You greet the various merchants and regulars that pass by you - most of them are familiar with your work, even if you use a moniker instead of your real name. It isn’t hard to deduce who the newest novelist on the block is when you know their publisher by name.

“When’s the new novel coming?” One shouts at you as you chuckle to yourself. “The last one really pulled on my heartstrings, and I need a bit of a pick-me-up before I go for a second read.”

“You’ll get your hands on it as soon as everyone else does.” You reassure them as they jokingly scoff and walk away.

Oh, the bliss of only being recognized by a small crowd of people.

You stop in front of the last tent on the docks - a large purple cloth hangs over the rods and poles that make up the foundation of the tent. Angry red vines dart over various parts of the tent, but none dare to cross each other.

You take a deep breath before entering the tent.

Hopefully her mood won’t sour mine.

“You’re earlier than usual. Did you get sick and tired of begging the guard to let you in until I would show up and save your ass?” Merrin, dressed in a conservative, frilly white dress, lights a candle with one hand as she balances on her cane with the other.

“Does your bad mood have to do with whoever’s wedding you interrupted?” You bite your lip as she slowly turns toward you.

“If my glasses were on me, I’d knock you to the floor with my cane.” She hobbles over to another table to light another candle as you approach the middle of the room. “And I thought this dress looks nice on me.”

“Yeah, if you were a fourteen-year-old noble who was forced to marry a man decades older than her.” Another sharp look from Merrin causes you to shut your mouth before she fulfills her early promise. “Are you in the mood to read something I’ve written?”

“Depends on if it’s better than the utter shit I’ve been reading all day.” Merrin sets her cane aside as she sits on one of the two chairs near the middle of the room. “Hand me my glasses, will you?”

“Don’t hit me with your cane, you old witch.” You pick her glasses up off of the floor before handing them to her.

“Why, I ought to-” She quickly grabs her cane, which causes you to immediately sit in the chair on her left.

You’re both playing with each other - she won’t hit you that hard, and you won’t completely piss her off. It’s just the way that Merrin is, and if you’re careful, you can break down her walls and see the woman behind the anger and sass.

As you look over to her, Merrin lightly taps your ankle with her cane as a rare smile appears on her face.

“How’s the novel coming? More progress than scribbles and midnight thoughts, I hope?” She looks surprised as you pull a bundle of parchment from your bag.

“I managed to get a chapter out, but it’s a rough draft, Merrin.” You remind her as you hand her the papers. “It isn’t very good-”

“-that’s for me to decide.” She says as she grabs the papers and adjusts the glasses on her face.

“I-” You interject before she gives you a pointed glare.

“Shut your damn mouth so I can read in peace.”

~

Sometimes you wonder why you chose Merrin as your editor - a form of punishment, perhaps?

That’s what you feel like you’re doing to yourself as she carefully scans every single word on the pages that you scribbled on. A spotlight has closed in on you, and you’re sweating under the pressure. What will you do if she rejects you again after this draft? Will you finally part ways with the woman who helped you find a path when you were nothing but an empty wanderer?

Merrin clears her throat as your attention snaps back to her.

She thinks it’s terrible - I’m never going to live this latest failure down.

“This is quite good.” She softly says as she reorganizes the papers for you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“And I thought I was the one with bad hearing, being old and all.” She snorts as you reach for the papers from her extended hand.

As soon as your hand touches them, Merrin snatches them out of your reach with a knowing smile.

“I have one question about the main character.” 

“Alright, lay it on me.” You sigh in relief as you can mentally prepare yourself for her critiques.

Rosella was hardly fleshed out, and she had little-to-no dialogue to give perspective into her motivations, ideals, and personality. Perhaps Merrin could help you with that?

“What woman inspired you to write Rosella?” She asks as you furrow your brows in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“I, uh…” You nervously look around, trying to think of an escape route. “She’s based on a friend, from long, long ago.”

You stress that this woman was long behind you, and there was absolutely nothing to worry about. It’s not like she would show back up in your life after years and years of silence.

“Well, if you see this friend from a long, long time ago,” She stresses the words the same way you did, “tell her that she’s one hell of a protagonist.”

“I will.” You grit your teeth as your mind wanders to the woman in question.

I hope I never see her again.

~

Giselle scribbles various notes onto the map within the captain’s quarters. She used to be the primary navigator when the Red-Hair Pirates were nothing but an idea in Winter’s head.

“One day, this boat will be filled with pirates and friends we’ve collected in our travels,” Winter looked over to Giselle before placing a hand on her back, “and I’m going to need you to be by my side, every second of every day.”

Winter paused for a moment, before walking towards the ship and extending her hand to her.

“You have everything you ever need here - a good education, family, friends, and stability. I’m offering adventure until your heart's content, enough money to set your family up for life, and every kind of booze imaginable.”

“Even rum?” Giselle tilted her head at Winter, who gave her a toothy grin.

“Especially rum. So, are you in or what?”

“I’m in, I just… have to say some goodbyes first.”

Now, her role within the crew was more muddled, somewhat lying between weaponsmaster and navigator. Usually, she would sort out her navigating affairs in the morning, and then keep up with the weapons in the afternoon. The nighttime was reserved for merrymaking and hell-raising - just as Giselle liked it.

But there was a part of her missing, something she had been chasing with booze and adventure that couldn’t be replaced.

What was she missing?

“Giselle!” Karina barrels into the captain’s quarters as she nearly collides into the table.

“You’re still drunk.” She chuckles. “You can’t handle your liquor for shit.”

“And you prefer in that way, so you can scam me out of my money.” Karina scoffs before loudly hiccuping.

“Alright,” Giselle stops working and puts her hands up in the air, “I am a bit of a trickster, but we’re pirates, remember? It’s kind of our thing.”

“Eh.” Karina shrugs before throwing a book onto the desk where Giselle was working.

“What’s this?” 

She studies the book for a moment before looking at Karina

“A gift from the Captain. Winter says to come see her after giving it a read.” Karina stumbles out of the door before loudly shutting it.

“Riveting conversation with a drunk Karina, like usual.” Giselle mumbles to herself. “I wonder why Winter would want me to read this?”

Her hands gently trace the spine as she studies the author’s name in bold ink.

It’s not one she recognizes, but perhaps she might know the writing style? Curious, Giselle carefully opens the book and begins to read.

~

It was mid-afternoon before Giselle exited the captain’s quarters, much later than usual. When she does, she immediately charges towards her quarters in a fury.

It takes every bone in Giselle’s body to stop her from ripping her room to shreds to find the letters that she had locked away years ago.

The letters that reminded her of you. The letters that had the same cadence and writing style that you did. Those letters tied you to her, and, at the moment, pointed to you as the author.

More than that, Giselle had come to the realization that Winter knew that the two of you were connected.

And that was more terrifying than confronting someone from her past.

Giselle finds the letters under her bed, and they’re carefully tied together with a bit of rope. She snatches them within an instant, and she tucks them under her arm before beginning her journey to find Winter.

“Giselle!” Ningning calls out to her as Giselle appears on the upper deck. “I had a question about some of the knives that I found in the gunroom.”

“Not the time.” Giselle charges right past her as she spots Winter on the quarterdeck. 

“Is that the book Winter asked me to get you?” 

Giselle, with no hesitation, turns on her heel to face the assassin.

“Of course she did!” She sighs before turning around. “Am I the one finding this out last when it’s my business?”

“If it comforts you, I didn’t ask for any details. I just grabbed the book and gave it to her.” Ningning plays with a knife in her hand as Giselle tightly squeezes the book in her left hand.

“Thanks.” She grumbles before calling out to Winter, “Hey, you have some explaining to do!”

“As do you!” Winter copies her volume, but she waits until Giselle comes closer to begin speaking in a softer tone. “Are they the reason why you tried to send letters back to your hometown from the different ports that we stopped in?”

“You knew about that?” Giselle stares, absolutely befuddled.

“I know when my friends aren’t themselves. I did a little digging, and I found a gold vein.” Winter looks out to the ocean. “You could’ve told me, you know. We could’ve worked something out.”

“But you needed me-”

“-I did, but I wouldn’t have asked you to come if I knew that your loyalties lied with someone else.”

Giselle physically deflates before confessing the truth to Winter.

“So you know that I was a part of the naval academy before I joined you.” Giselle looks away in shame, like a small puppy. “They were too, but we quit together-”

“-so you could chase your dreams together. You, an acclaimed mapmaker. Them, an accomplished novelist. Do I have the narrative right?” Winter raises an eyebrow at Giselle.

Not quite.

“I loved them.” Giselle bites her lip. “I love them.”

Panic covers Giselle’s face as she opens her mouth to speak.

“There it is,” Winter smirks before yelling to the crew, “Set sail to the west.”

“I’m doing you a favor, mind you. You need to figure this out before it ends with you getting yourself killed. I can’t stand to watch my crewmate, my friend, drink herself into an early grave.”

“So we’re doing this?” Giselle asks.

“You’re doing this.”

~

“The pirates are coming! The pirates are coming!” A man on a horse repeats the same phrase over and over as he passes by your estate.

Pirates? Here? Why?

No, it can’t be those pirates.

Your head snaps towards the nearest window that faces the docks. In the distance, you can see a large pirate show approaching your humble town.

And wouldn’t you know it, the flag on the ship shows a dead skull sporting some fire-red hair.

The Red-Hair Pirates.

The crew that Giselle’s a part of.

Shit.

You can see a group of villagers approach the docks from your side, and you’re sure a fight will break out - no, a bloodbath will occur - if someone doesn’t get down there and stop it.

Maybe that naval training will come into use.

~

“Your kind isn’t welcome here.” A villager points a large shotgun at Winter’s chest, and she seems unphased by his outburst.

“We’re not here to loot, we just want to rest.” She pulls out a gold coin and flips it into the air before grabbing it and offering it to the villager. “Our coin is good here, no?”

“I-” He pauses before studying the coin. “One night. And the only place that you can shop is the night market.”

“That sounds like our kind of place, right?” Winter turns to her pirates, who cheer loudly. “I’ll make sure they’ll behave, I swear.”

“You better.” He scoffs before spitting at the ground. “C’mon, we have better things to do than guard open docks.”

The villagers disperse, which causes Giselle to sigh in relief.

That’s a battle I didn’t want to fight.

“Alright, everyone, back on the ship until nightfall. We aren’t welcome here until then, so this boat better be spotless in a few hours!” Winter commands, and her crew scrambles back onto the ship as Winter pulls Giselle aside. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“I do, and I don’t need backup. I’ll be back before nighttime.” Giselle softly says before Winter grabs her shoulder.

“I’d like to meet your friend, if they want to meet me. Perhaps it can help explain why you left - take some of the blame off of your shoulders,” Winter shrugs, “Or I can just have a drink with a friend and a friend of a friend. Either works for me.”

They’re… leaving?

“Not sure I’d call us friends, but I’ll see what I can do.”

~

You watch from a distance as the villagers, your neighbors, disperse with varying emotions on their faces. Some look relieved, others seem pissed, but most appear to be indifferent.

As if killing another wasn’t a brutal act that weighed on your soul for as long as you lived.

A woman with striking red hair turns to the pirates on the dock, and with only a few words, she sends them back onto the ship.

Their captain - Winter, the pirate queen of myths and legends.

Infamous doesn’t even begin to describe Winter, as her face was neatly plastered on every wanted board across the nation. Her reputation of brutality nearly exceeds her generosity and kindness. She took from the rich government ships and gave to the poor towns that she traveled to.

Almost like a storybook character. Perhaps my next protagonist can take some of her qualities.

Before all of her crew can go back to the ship, Winter pulls one of them aside. A girl with blonde hair, but a face that you recognize. Not from the wanted posters that showed her with black hair and a devilish yet charming smile.

But a ghost from your past, the woman who you were hoping to escape from. The girl who had invaded your dreams every night since she left.

Your Rosella.

Giselle.

You want to turn away, to run back to the safety of your home, but you can’t. Not because you want to see Giselle, but because she’d follow you back home.

After all, it was her home too.

With a deep breath, and as much courage as you can muster, you let your feet carry you towards Giselle.

Towards your destiny.

Giselle’s eyes widen as she sees you walking towards her with an unreadable expression on your face. You’re not completely pissed, which is good, but you don’t look happy. You’re not sad, but there isn’t any longing in your eyes. There’s no indifference in your face, but when your eyes meet hers, a twinkle of nostalgia appears briefly.

~

Perhaps you missed her as much as she missed you.

“You look…” Giselle pauses as the two of you meet in the middle of the road. “Well.”

“Thanks.” You nod before looking out to the ocean. “I like your blonde hair. It suits you.”

“Thanks…” Giselle trails off while hoping that the road would open up and swallow her whole.

Why was it so hard to talk to you? She thought of a million things to say to you, but none of them seemed right.

So let’s start with the simplest one.

“I’m sorry.”

When the words leave her lips, you look over in surprise.

As if you thought that she meant to hurt you.

A dagger slices through her heart, as the wound that is your shared history is reopened again. She’s going to let herself drown in bad blood unless she says something else.

Something that will make this right.

Nothing will, she knows this. But why not try?

“I’m sorry for leaving you with such a shitty goodbye. I’m sorry for convincing you to leave the naval academy with me and then leaving you behind. I’m sorry that I never was able to return your letters.” She pauses to hand you them.

“You kept them?” You tilt your head at her. “After all of these years?”

“Of course I did.” She says before softly laughing. “It was the only reminder I had of home.”

“I thought the sea was your home.” 

“No, my home was always you.” Giselle quietly mumbles. “I wanted to explore, to see the world, but I wanted to come back home.”

“Why didn’t you write me back?” Your voice is laced with hurt, and Giselle wants nothing more than to hold you in her arms.

But you’re not that close, not anymore.

“I tried to, but no letter carrier would take my money. Turns out that people aren’t fond of pirates,” She scoffs, “but I kept them all in my quarters. Perhaps you’d like to see them?”

A light smile appears on your face - you’re actually contemplating her offer.

“Would you like to see the home first? I don’t know if it has changed much-”

“-that sounds great.” Giselle lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

A peace offering. An olive branch. Perhaps you can begin anew?

~

Months ago, you would’ve sworn at Giselle if she had set foot in your town, let alone in your house. That was before you finished the book, before a character in that book taught you something about forgiveness.

“Will you ever forgive me, my dear?” Rosella says to her beloved. “I know it’s been years, but I can’t help but yearn for you. Our souls are intertwined, and no amount of treasure will ever make up for losing you.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I can ever truly forgive and forget, but…”

“But?” A flicker of hope appears in Rosella’s eyes.

“But maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

You watch Giselle comb over your bookshelf as you take a seat in the living room. 

“You really didn’t change this place, huh?” She says before sitting at a chair on the opposite end of the room.

“It didn’t feel right. This is still your home, after all.” You say.

“Our home,” Giselle corrects you before her eyes widen, “shit. I didn’t mean to-”

You wave away her concerns with a charming smile.

“No, it’s alright.”

An awkward silence spreads over the room - what should you say to her now?

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Giselle softly asks before looking in your eyes. “I don’t want to intrude if I’m not welcome.”

You take a deep breath - it’s time to address the massive elephant in the room.

“Giselle, I don’t want to do this back-and-forth with you. I want to talk about what happened between us.” 

You’re surprised at how mature you sound, how non-malicious your words are. You had gone over this moment a thousand times in your head, but none of them were this nice or friendly.

“What is there to talk about? I ruined your life, no, our lives. I promised you that pirating was only a temporary thing, and you can see how that ended-”

“It pains me to see you tear yourself up about this, Giselle.” You calmly say as she pauses and reflects for a moment. “How can we move forward if we’re stuck reliving the past over and over?”

“You want to start again?” 

Giselle looks dumbfounded as you nod.

“We might not be that close again, not for a long time, but we can try being friends. Then we’ll see where it goes.” You shrug your shoulders as she thinks for a moment before responding.

“Why would you let me get away with what I did to you? I left you alone for years, with not a word of my health and well-being. Why put yourself through that again?”

You chuckle to yourself as familiar words come to the front of your mind.

“Maybe there’s room for us to start again. If we’ve both healed from our past wounds, then what’s the use of bringing them up again?”

“From your book.” She responds wistfully before her eyes widen. “You wrote yourself as the love interest?”

“Uh-huh.” You nod as the realization comes crashing down on Giselle.

“And the girl, Rosella, who is strong, beautiful, and kind. The girl who messes up time after time yet she still manages to redeem herself - that’s me?”

“Yup.” You’re quiet for a moment, to allow Giselle to process everything. “Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration?”

“Why?” She leans forward as her voice quivers in anticipation. “Why me?”

“Because no matter how much I hated you, I could never get you out of my head. You haunted my every dream and nightmare. I couldn’t escape your grasp, so I wrote about the woman who had completely transfixed my mind, body, and soul.” 

A breathy chuckle escapes your lips.

This is just like a confession that I would write in my book. The next thing she would say is I love you-

“I never stopped loving you.” She confesses before standing up.

You stand up to meet her gaze.

“Neither did I.”

~

“To be completely honest,” Winter says as you and Giselle approach the docks, “I didn’t expect you to come back.”

“You’re still my captain, Winter.” She smiles before gesturing to you. “This is my friend, the one I told you about.”

“Friend,” She stares at your intertwined hands, “right. Excuse my staring. It isn’t every day that you meet an author of legend.”

You feel your cheeks heat up.

“Ah, that’s sweet of you to say.” You nudge Giselle’s shoulder. “Why can’t you be as charming as her?”

“Hey-” She tries to defend herself, but Winter’s laughter cuts her off.

“Oh, I like them. They’d be a good addition to our crew.”

Your mouth hangs agape as you blink rapidly.

“You… you can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid so, unless Giselle objects?” Winter turns to Giselle, who glances at you.

“It’s your decision. I won’t force it on you-”

“Yes,” You quickly answer, “but I’m not sure what use I would be to your crew.”

“We could use your writing and organizing skills to keep track of weapons, finances, maps, food, and other supplies on the ships. That means that you would be working closely with Giselle and I.” Winter explains as you nod along. “Plus there would be plenty of time for you to continue writing your latest masterpiece. I know you’re good with a gun - I can see the Navy’s engravings on the handle, so combat won’t be an issue for you.”

You quickly hide your gun holster with your coat.

“I hope you don’t take offense to my weapons background,” You say before leaning over to Giselle, “how the fuck does she know all of that?”

“Long story, I’ll explain after a drink or two,” Giselle whispers back, “but I’m glad that you’re going with us. It’ll be nice to show you to all of the places that we’ve been before.”

“Got it.” You smile before letting go of Giselle’s hand.

She reaches out to grab it, but you instead maneuver around her hand to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“I, um…” She struggles to articulate her feelings as a furious blush appears on her face.

Winter laughs loudly before gesturing towards the ship.

“We still have a few hours before nightfall. Perhaps we can celebrate with a drink?”

“Sounds good. You in?” You ask Giselle, who can’t even look you in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” Her face is still red as Winter walks to the ship.

“Feel free to join me when you’re ready.”

You go to follow behind her, but Giselle stops you by catching your arm with her hand.

“Hey, I-” She pauses to regain her composure, “Thank you, for this. I needed it.”

“It really isn’t a problem,” You say before leaning in to tease her, “but don’t expect me to kiss you every time you need a pick-me-up.”

“Damn, you know my schemes before I can properly plan them.” Giselle smirks before pulling you closer. “But I can always kiss you, right?”

She closes the distance between your lips before quickly pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Tease.” You grumble as she leans back.

“You started it, and I ended it.” She shrugs before her hand slips into yours. “We shouldn’t keep Winter waiting - we don’t want her to have a bad impression of you, right?”

You nod as Giselle leads you on to the ship.

As her crewmates greet you and welcome you onto the ship, you wonder if this new chapter of your life will be something to write about.

Maybe it’s time for my story to be told.

[writinground2]

Know my Place - Alessia Russo

Based on a request for some soft smut, but since I don't write smut, some angsty smutless smut.

One of the models leaned over Alessia to be close to Leah, she tried to think of the woman’s name. Jules? Julia? Jenny? It felt like they all blurred together and neither footballer was invested enough to overly care at this point. 

“- about Y/N,” Alessia tuned in just at the end of the model speaking, only catching Y/N’s name. 

“Sorry, music is bit loud, didn’t catch all that,” Leah played it off, tilting her head towards the girl to convince her she hadn’t heard what was said. 

“I was saying, tell me more about Y/N,” the model motioned her head towards where Y/N was leaned against the bar. Alessia rolled her eyes.

Y/N had gone up to get them drinks between pieces at the fashion show Leah had dragged them to. An event the blonde was strongly regretting by this point. Every time she looked away; another person seemed to be vying for Y/N’s attention. Alessia wasn’t a jealous person, but it was difficult to see everyone staring at her girlfriend like a piece of meat. A fact that she knew made Y/N incredibly uncomfortable. 

Y/N was tall with lean muscle, well defined through any outfit she wore. She had short hair, shaved neatly along the side, with it textured artfully on top. Tonight, she was in well-tailored dress pants and a crisp white dress shirt with the first few buttons undone. The shirt displayed the sharp definition of Y/N’s arms and strained across her shoulders, while the pants stretched tight across on her hips and tapered down her legs. Easy to say, Y/N easily drew a lot of attention. 

Alessia ground her teeth as she watched another nameless model walk her fingers along Y/N’s forearm, settling just above her elbow. She knew Y/N wasn’t interested, nor would she ever return any flirtatious advances. Unfortunately, Y/N was friendly and was easy to talk to, so many people mistook her friendliness as flirting. If only they knew Y/N’s flirting more resembled a bumbling teenager. Alessia smirked as Y/N moved her arm out of the models grasp, tucking both behind her back as she took a partial step back. 

“-she’s gotta be like the team bike,” Alessia tuned in, both footballers furrowing their eyebrows at the poor American reference, “you know, everyone gets a ride sort of thing,” she finished with a wink. 

“Excuse me?” Leah was able to find her voice before Alessia could. 

“Come on, someone like that has to get around,” the model moaned crudely in the back of her throat, biting her lower lip, “bet she takes a new girl home every night. I know I would let her top the fuck out of me.” 

Alessia stood abruptly, forcing the model huff and sit back in her spot. She didn’t wait to listen to Leah verbally accost the model, immediately making her way to Y/N. 

Y/N lit up as soon as she recognized Alessia coming towards her. Alessia felt her heart flutter. They were in a room filled with literal supermodels, and Y/N looked at her as if she was the only person around. 

Alessia didn’t care if she was rude or not, she slid directly in between the two, cutting off whatever the other woman was saying. Y/N’s hand instinctively settled on Alessia’s hips. Though Y/N stood only slightly taller than the blonde, she stood on her toes to kiss Y/N’s forehead. While a kiss to the lips would make it clear to anyone she would be going home Y/N, after hearing the way she was spoken about, something more delicate seemed more appropriate. 

Hearing a huff followed by the click of heels, the blonde grinned. 

“I think I’m missing something,” Y/N tilted her head, seeing Leah approaching, looking quite irritated.

Y/N hands Alessia her drink, before reaching Leah’s out to her once she’s within distance. The defender taking large gulps of it. Y/N and Alessia taking smaller sips. 

“Sarah was saying how much she wants you to fuck her tonight, they’re all competing for you to take them home.” 

It briefly registered to Alessia that the models name didn’t even start with a J like she thought. More so, she was disgusted at the way her girlfriend was being spoken about. She could feel Y/N shrink on herself and the hands drop from her hips. 

Y/N took an uncomfortable sip of her drink. 

“Time to go,” Alessia soothed a thumb over Y/N’s cheek. 

Y/N finished her drink and allowed the striker to set her empty glass on the bar for her. The ice rattled as Leah slammed her empty glass down and turned to lead them through the crowd. 

“I’m so sorry for making you come tonight Y/N,” Leah looked at Y/N through the rear-view mirror as she drove. 

“It’s all good, Leah, really,” Y/N forcing a smile on to her face. 

Alessia looked over the passenger seat to see Y/N absently staring out the window. She knew where Y/N’s mind was going to. Sex had been something Y/N had been quite hesitant about. Y/N had expressed her concerns which were feeling too  similar to some of the events of tonight. 

The car was hardly to the curb and Y/N was opening her car door, opening Alessia’s for her and offering a hand to help her out. Leah offered another apology before everyone said their goodbyes. 

Y/N was quiet on the ride up to their shared flat. 

“Do you want to – “Alessia started to ask Y/N while they toed off their shoes inside the door. Y/N cut her off with a rough kiss, forcing her against the door. 

The blonde indulged her for a moment, letting Y/N dominate the kiss. When her hands moved to under the flowing shirt Alessia wore, she gripped Y/N’s wrists to slow her movements.

Y/N withdrew her hands from Alessia’s shirt, instead bracing her hands on either side of the strikers’ head and forced a knee between her legs.

Alessia moaned, “hey, slow down bambina,” she pushed her away gently. 

“Why? This is all I’m good for,” Y/N leaned her head against Alessia’s. 

“No, you’re not, love,” Alessia held Y/N’s face in her hands, soothingly running her thumbs along her cheek bones, “I know tonight reminded you of some old feelings, but you’re not just meant for sex.” 

She glided a hand to back of Y/N’s neck to tug her face to rest in the crook of her shoulder. Alessia kept them in that position for a minute before moving to guide them toward their bedroom. 

“Still coming over tonight? I’ll cook,” Alessia asked softly, hand grazing Y/N’s back softly as she moved to sit in her locker next to her. 

“Little Netflix and chill? Bow chicka wow woa,” Katie hollered from the other side. 

A few players whooped at the comment. Alessia flushed at the attention, sinking further back into her cubby. Y/N clenched her jaw and focused on changing quickly, ducking out of the room before anyone noticed. 

The couple had only been on a few dates. Alessia could sense that Y/N was a little hesitant, so she had held back and let Y/N direct their pace. Waiting patiently for Y/N to offer a chaste kiss before abruptly rushing from the blondes flat. 

Y/N hadn’t been what Alessia was expecting. Not that she would change anything about Y/N, but she was unexpected. She had seen Y/N interact with girls at the bar, how they all threw themselves at her, it caused many rumours about Y/N being a bit promiscuous. Y/N’s looks only encouraging it, with a more masculine fashion and demeanour, many people assuming her to fit the typical ‘fuck boy’ stereotype.

When Y/N had picked her up with flowers at her door and fumbled over complimenting her “beautiful, look these are you”. Blushing, she had shoved the flowers into Alessia hands. The blonde immediately knew all the rumours were wrong. Y/N would open the car door for her and walk her back to the door at the end of their date, only offering a hug before darting back to her car. 

She knew Y/N wasn’t the arrogant person that bed women as she pleased. Alessia knew Y/N was a gentle soul just looking to have her heart handled the way she handled everyone else’s. 

Y/N arrived at her house that night for dinner, once again bringing her flowers. She had sat at the table while Alessia cooked them dinner, asking questions about everything, wanting to know all she could about the blonde. 

After dinner, the pair had moved to the couch, where Alessia had quickly settled herself against Y/N’s chest. It was rare for her to feel comfortable setting her weight against someone like this, but with Y/N’s build matching her own, Alessia couldn’t help but bask in the feeling of the strong arms holding her tight. 

Some mindless series was playing in the background. Alessia shifted herself so her face was tucked directly under Y/N’s chin, Y/N only shifting slightly to adjust her hold on the blonde. Sighing, Alessia shifted a few more times, waiting for Y/N to look down at her. As soon as she did, Alessia stretched herself up to meet Y/N’s lips. 

Caught off guard, Y/N hesitated, before kissing back. Alessia adjusted herself to be straddling Y/N’s hips, grinding down slightly, hoping for Y/N to understand her intentions. 

The blonde felt Y/N clench her jaw where fingers were rested but ignored it as Y/N tightened the grip on her hips, encouraging her movements.

Growing frustrated that it wasn’t progressing further, Alessia sat up fully, waiting until Y/N made eye contact with her, she took her shirt off and quickly followed with her bra. When Y/N didn’t move her hands from her hips, she took both wrists and forced Y/N’s hands to her chest. 

Alessia could see Y/N clench her jaw again but felt her graze her thumbs across her hardened nipples and resumed her own grinding. Y/N slowly let her hands roam the blondes body but still made no move to progress anything further. 

“I want you on top of me,” the defender leaned to whisper in Y/N’s ear, nipping the lobe as she pulled away. 

Pulling away, she saw Y/N’s jaw clench and her eyes screw shut. 

Taking pause, she pushed a hand on Y/N’s chest, halting her from switching their positions. Y/N looked confused but waited to see why the blonde stopped moving. 

“This isn’t too fast, is it?” she ran her thumb along the exposed portion of Y/N’s collar bone. When Y/N paused, she already knew her answer. 

“It’s fine, it’s what you invited me over for,” she started to shift again, so Alessia would be on her back. 

Applying more pressure, she forced Y/N to lay back on the couch. Leaning down, she plucked her shirt of the floor and put It back on. 

“I didn’t invite you over for sex Y/N.”

She felt like she was punched in the chest at the surprised look on Y/N’s face. 

“Amore,” the term slipping out, “I invited you over for dinner and a movie, we don’t need to have sex. I’m sorry for getting carried away,” she spoke so softly. 

She felt that punch again when Y/N’s surprise shifted to that of confusion, as if the concept of not having to have sex was foreign to her. 

They sat in silence for a beat while Y/N seemed to process what was happening. That it wasn’t expected of her to have sex, that she wasn’t invited over for the only intention to be sex. 

“But you want sex?” Y/N slowly asked, waiting for a nod, she continued, “but you didn’t invite me over to just have sex?”

Another nod, slower this time while the blonde worked out where Y/N was going with this. 

“And we don’t have to have sex?”

Feeling that punch again, she nodded one more time. 

“Firoe mio I do want to have sex with you,” she applied pressure to keep Y/N on her back, “but, I didn’t invite you over to just have sex. We can wait as long you want to have sex.” 

Alessia could feel all the tension suddenly leave Y/N’s body as she sunk deep into the couch. Y/N closed her eyes and took a few slow breaths. Her eyes flew open when she felt Alessia begin to move on top of her. 

“I’m just adjusting, I’m not going anywhere,” the blonde was quick to reassure her, this didn’t seem like a conversation to be had while straddling the girl. 

Y/N nodded and mutters a soft apology, which Alessia waved off as she moved to sit next to Y/N, quickly taking hold of her hand. 

“Did you think I only wanted to have you over to have sex?”

“Well yeah,” Y/N fidgeted with their interlaced fingers, “that’s all people usually want from me.” 

Alessia felt her heart shatter now. She tried not to take it personal that Y/N would assume that of her, but she knew Y/N felt this way for a reason, that many people before conditioned her to expect that. 

“I used to try and date like normal, but I figured out pretty quick I’m only good for one thing. People stick around for a bit, they pretend they aren’t just here for sex, but as soon as I asked for more, they’re gone. Sometimes they’ll be up front about just wanting sex. I don’t know if that hurts more than people pretending to want to date me.”

“I want to date you.”

“It’s alright Less, I know what I’m good for at this point. The sex is good –“

“Why’d you agree to go on a date with?” the striker cut her off. 

“Sometimes I forget my place I guess,” she shrugged with humourless chuckle. 

“I asked you out because I want to date you and get to know you more and grow a life together. I did not ask you out just for you to fuck me.”

Y/N’s eyes shot to Alessia at her sudden crude wording. 

“I’m serious,” her blue eyes bore into Y/N’s while she spoke, “of course I want sex with Y/N, it’s natural and you are beautiful. But I want it to happen when we both want to happen and when you believe me that I’m not with you just for that or that I will leave after.” 

Y/N had to look away so Alessia wouldn’t see her tears. Taking a breath, she looked back over, “I want to have sex with you too, but, if it’s ok with you, I think I’d like to wait a bit.”

“Of course, tesoro,” Alessia placed a gentle kiss to her forehead before guiding them to be laying back down, this time with Y/N held tightly to her chest. 

“So how good is good?” Alessia teased later. 

“Good enough you’ll need a recovery day after,” Y/N turned over, briefly tugging the blondes’ bottom lip into her mouth. 

Alessia gulped, licking the lip Y/N had just tugged on. 

True to her word, a few weeks later Alessia was glad for the day off when she woke up. She was sore in the best ways possible. Y/N having pulled sounds out of her she didn’t know she could make the night before.  

[simplyhughes]

Hi Ellie, so nice to meet you! Loved your first piece ("my girl" as a pet name makes me fold like a lawn chair)! May I please request something with Jack? The specifics are up to you, but may it please be someone who is plain and very quiet in public. I feel like that would raise some eyebrows with Jack being so outgoing and sought after. Please and thank you. P.s. I listened to "Waste" by Foster the People while daydreaming about this if you want a song rec. Sorry!

Apart of the Group

First of all, thank you so much for being my first request I was soooo excited! I got a little carried away with this idea, and I may have strayed a little from your original request so apologies there. But I think this turned out pretty cute! Also, I ended up listening to the song while writing this… 10/10 great music taste 😋

Posting on here still makes me kind of nervous, but I do want to say thank you to everyone who enjoyed my last fic!!!! I am taking request and I’m so excited to fulfill some more :P I hope this fic is good!!! 

WC: 961 😧😧

Tw: social anxiety (?)

Throughout your life, you were known for your quiet demeanor, often keeping to yourself to avoid unnecessary conflict or attention. This didn't mean you were a loner; it just meant it was harder to break your shell. To anyone else, you may come off as withdrawn or timid, and honestly, that's true. But it's just a persona for those you aren't close to.

Growing up as family friends with three charismatic and unusually talented brothers was refreshing. You got to experience what life would be like if you had possessed those traits, not watching in envy but adoration. That adoration focused itself on the middle brother, Jack.

Jack didn't even have to try to get you to let your guard down; it just happened. He radiated a feeling of comfort that made him so easy to be around. After years of chasing each other, right as Jack was entering his first year in the NHL, you guys finally got together. You complimented each other in ways that were both unexpected and perfect, filling in the gaps the other lacked.

Life had picked up pace, and both of you succumbed to work. With Jack in Jersey and you back home in Michigan, you didn't get to see each other often. Being enrolled in university didn't allow for free time; you were either busing tables or hitting the books. Even though you and Jack shared troubling schedules, you two always found time to chat, even if it was late at night. Eventually, your schedules aligned. You finally were able to catch a flight to Jersey to see your boyfriend in action. On top of that, the New Jersey Devils were having a get-together for all of their wives and girlfriends. That made Jack ecstatic. He was so thrilled to be able to show off his girl, he was practically bouncing off the walls. You, on the other hand, felt queasy at the thought.

Jack had picked you up from the airport and took you back to his apartment. After basking in each other's company for the rest of the day and making up for lost time, you two settled in bed. As soon as the covers were pulled over, Jack was out. Your touch was something he craved for so long, and to finally have it alleviated all his stress, acting like melatonin.

Unfortunately, sleep didn't come as easy for you. Your mind was racing, thinking about every outcome tomorrow would bring. Will his teammates like you? Will their girlfriends like you? Eventually, you tired yourself out, and your eyelids fluttered shut with your fingers tangled in your boyfriend's hair.

The morning was spent over a cup of coffee and breakfast Jack surprisingly hadn't burned, sharing kisses and embraces in between. Both of you got ready in unison, helping Jack with his outfit and him attempting to help you with your hair. The ride to his teammate's house, who you knew as Bass, was quiet. Jack could tell you were nervous and had rested his palm against your thigh, rubbing small comforting circles. He parked along the street and opened the passenger door for you to exit. With your hands clasped, you both walked towards the front door.

Immediately, the door swung open, revealing a tall guy with a toothy grin who greeted you.He pulled Jack into one of those guy hugs and ushered you two in the door. The room was loud which made you instinctively lach to Jack's arm. Settling on the couch, surrounded by other players and their partners, Jack got to socializing. You felt eyes on you. The words you spoke were minimal and ended with you introducing yourself, with the help of your boyfriend. Your head rested against Jack's shoulder with his arm snaking around yours leaving his hand resting on your leg.

Soon enough his conversation fizzles out and he looks down at you with a soft gaze. He leans down to reach your ear, “You okay, baby?”. You let out a hum. At this point, your nerves were gone, but this still wasn't your crowd. “I'm good, just taking everything in…” you reply finally using your words. His lips meet your forehead while his hand caresses your cheek.

You two were so lost in your bubble to hear the conversation of a few of the girlfriends on the other sofa. “They are so different” one of them giggles. “I know…but it's too cute.” another responds. Jack smiles at you and turns back to talking now occasionally giving you the chance to nudge in.

As the night came to a close, you found yourself feeling a sense of belonging you hadn't anticipated. Surrounded by Jack's teammates and their partners, you realized that acceptance wasn't as elusive as you once thought. Back at Jack's apartment, you two snuggled up on the couch. His phone pinged with a text from one of the guys. “Hey take a look at this y/n…” Jack said as he shifted his phone to be your view. “Bratters girl, Nicole, wants to see if you wanna go to the WAGs luncheon thing before the game tomorrow. Look at my girl making friends and shit!” He exclaimed while pinching your cheeks. You pushed your head into his chest to hide your smile.

Today, you hurdled more than you could have if you were to do it alone. Jack brings out the best in you, pushing you when you need it. With Jack by your side, facing any uncertainty seemed less daunting. As you settled into bed, wrapped in each other's embrace, you felt a profound sense of contentment wash over you. Tomorrow might bring new challenges, but you knew that as long as you had Jack, you could face them head-on, together.

[gingiesworld]

Missing Piece

Taylor Swift x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @lizzieislife94x

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N Y/L/N was a name that no one in the public had heard of, although they were the one that Taylor had loved with all of her. But the moment she had gotten bigger, her name was known worldwide, every teen girl was a huge Swiftie. Tickets would be sold out worldwide. But the break up was always raw in the back of her mind.

Y/N knocked on her door, after dating since Junior year in high school. They had watched as she released her first album. Her first tour was only small but Y/N had supported her dream.

"Y/N, I thought our date was tomorrow." She spoke as she stepped outside.

"No." They told her as she observed the sad look on their face. "I can't do this, us anymore Tay."

"Don't." She told them as she stepped away. "Don't you finish that sentence."

"You're going to be huge, Taylor. Your music's taking off and I am just me. A simpleton."

"No." She told them with tears in her eyes. "You're more than that."

"I don't want to hold you back. You're meant to be more than just this small town girl." They told her. "This is all I am meant for, I go to a community college for crying out loud."

"I don't care." She told them. "We can make this work." She cupped their face as they exhaled a shaky breath.

"No." They told her. "I can't keep doing the long distance. I can't keep you from being who you're meant to be."

"I love you." She told them as they kissed her forehead.

"I love you but I have to let you go." They told her, releasing her and moving away from the porch. "Just promise me one thing. That this place here, at Christmas will always be ours."

"I promise." She told them as they gave her one last smile.

That was the last she had seen or heard of them. Although they had kept the same number, Taylor had never lost it, always transferring it to her new phones. She always wondered if they had ever gotten out of the town, if they had managed to get a job or career away from where they had grown up, but Y/N wasn't that lucky. Unfortunately they remained working on their parents ranch, although they had a teaching degree, they just couldn't put it to use as their father had fallen ill, landing them with more responsibilities.

But they had made sure to buy every record that Taylor had made, everytime she was performing live nearby, they would be in the crowd. A proud smile on their face as she played her music as everyone cheered.

She never knew that they had supported her, or that they were in the crowd every time she played in their home town. They heard about every relationship, every break up that she had gone through. Wondering why no one would love and care for her the way she deserved. She deserved more than what those relationships had given her. She deserved to be happy and loved unconditionally. Just how Y/N had always loved her.

Every Christmas, they returned to the place where they would walk, the snow covered hills and trees as the cold wind cut through their skin. There was a lake nearby that froze over every year, but it was always thin, not safe to walk on.

"I love this." She whispered as Y/N smiled at her. Admiring her rosy features as the frost bit her skin.

“I love you.” They whispered as she smiled at them.

That was the last exchange they had before Taylor had stopped coming to their spot. Leaving Y/N to wonder every year how the rising star was doing. If she thought of them as much as they thought of her.

They saw articles of Taylor moving forward with her life, moving on with new relationships. So, while they were at college, they met the woman who would become their wife and the mother of their children, but that was all short lived.

“You keep saying how you love me, but I can see it.” Tracy told them. “Your heart isn’t mine. It never was.”

“Trace.” Y/N tried as they reached for her, only for her to flinch and step back. “I do love you. I love you and our girls.”

“I know you do.” She sighed in defeat, her tears falling. “But your heart isn’t in this marriage and I know it hasn’t been since we got together. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but I need to do this for me.” Y/N bit their lip as they looked away from her. “I think we need a divorce.”

“No.” They whispered as she moved to cup their face.

“We can still be friends, raise the girls together.” She told them. “We just can’t be us anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” They whispered as they closed their eyes.

“It’s ok.” She told them softly. “I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could ever hate you.” She kissed their lips one last time before packing herself a bag. Leaving Y/N in the bedroom alone, feeling like their whole world was crumbling.

The divorce proceedings ran smoothly, the two had taken 50/50 custody of the girls. What Y/N never expected was to do christmases without their daughters. But since the moment Tracy had met her now fiancè, they felt out of place spending the holidays there. Although the girls tried to make them feel at home, they never did.

That was how they ended up where they are now, sat in their usual spot, watching over the frozen lake. The one place they always felt at home, soon broken from their reverie as they heard the snow crunch beneath someone's footsteps.

“Hey you.” They heard the one voice they longed for.

“You’re here?” They asked shakily as they rose to their feet, watching as she nodded with a teary smile. “But your dream?”

“Means nothing if you’re not there with me.” She told them honestly. “I always felt as though a piece of me was missing, but I figured it out.” She cupped their face as she gazed into their eyes. “It’s you. You’re my missing piece.”

“I love you.” They whispered as they felt the warmth radiate from her, noses touching as their lips ghosted the other.

“I love you.” She whispered before kissing them softly. The first time it felt like they were complete, the reason why neither could truly move forward was because the other had their heart. The first Christmas in years that the two felt at home.

[wovenintosilk]

Hii! Could I request a hobie x reader with a girlfriend who’s in the spider society with him? Possibly during the events of the movie

Hey! Thank you for requesting, this really helped get my inspiration flowing. It's not too long but I hope you enjoy it!

No Content Warnings

GN!Reader

Word Count: 1000

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

Clattering of a metal can kicked down the street broke through the silence of an otherwise quiet night. You watched it roll along before it disappeared into the frigid shadows. Unfortunate. It’d made for some entertainment as you strolled along the dark streets.

Only smog joined you and Hobie on your walk, somehow present even if everything else had long been deserted.

“All I’m saying is I don’t like how things are playing out,” he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

A frozen brush of wind managed to sneak under your jacket and you shuddered. “But that’s nothing new,” you said, teasing him. “The whole organised society never suited you much.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. “You’re not wrong doll. If this gig didn’t come with you included, I’d be long gone.”

“Don’t make me your reason for sticking around,” you joked. “I couldn’t handle it.”

He kicked a fallen piece of debris as you passed. It rolled beneath a flickering streetlight, briefly shining in a pale orange buzz.

“Nah,” he said. “You’re worth it.”

Even with such an admission, his words twisted in your head. Though you didn’t believe that you alone could tie Hobie to a world he didn’t like, you still felt guilty about it from time to time.

“It’s been getting worse,” Hobie said when the silence dragged on. “He always wants to know every detail from every dimension. Does he really think anybody’s going to bother with nonsense like that?”

You twisted your mouth, unsure how to defend against the truth. “Miguel’s just worried. He’ll calm down when we know where this anomaly is.”

Hobie scoffed. “Don’t even know why we care so much about anomalies. Nothing’s meant to be the same.”

“They’re dangerous.”

“So are you.”

You offered a confused expression; turned only to find your boyfriend suddenly far closer. The warmth he radiated made you want to move entirely into his space.

Your heart picked up its pace and a delicious feeling spread through your body at the promise in his stance.

“Dangerous for who?” you asked.

A soft beeping interrupted whatever may have continued. Two watches blinked in the dreary night, their glow a harsh yellow in an otherwise grungy area. The flicker of irritation made itself obvious in your expression as Hobie stepped away.

“Looks like they need some help.”

“They always do,” you sighed.

He shrugged apologetically and pulled his mask from his pocket though his grin appeared proud as ever. “’s not my fault they’re bad at their jobs. Will I see you at the complex?”

You glanced at your own watch. “Of course. Be safe.”

“You know I don’t follow orders.”

“It’s not an order, it’s a bribe,” you hummed and moved back into his space, palm pressed against his chest and lips close to his own. “Stay safe for me?”

“A bribe? What do I get if I agree?”

You smiled and pushed him toward the portal opening behind him. “We’ll see.”

He left with a laugh and you made your way toward completing your own work. Lyla wasted no time in providing a list of your tasks and you got on with it swiftly. The complex felt busier than ever as you dodged between hundreds of Spidermen.

You worked hard whenever he ran off, determined to distract yourself from worrying. Every time he donned the mask, you had to force yourself to not think about the stunts he’d need to perform – the danger he’d put himself in front of without a second thought to the consequences.

But it didn’t help anybody to worry so you tried not to until he returned.

He was in a great mood when you spotted him arriving back, his walk full of swagger and confidence as he caught your eye. He shot a wink in your direction that sent you blushing and laughing.

The others with him offered awkward waves and you relaxed in the knowledge everything went as well as it could.

Until later when you received a notice ordering every person in the complex to stop Spiderman from escaping.

Alone in your office, you couldn’t be more confused as you turned your chair around. This was something you’d never seen before. Everybody in the complex had a strange truce – no matter what happened.

The door slid open before you could think too much about it and Hobie strolled in.

“I was thinking about what you said,” he remarked before you could ask. “And you’ve got a point. This place doesn’t suit me much.”

You stood up. The alarm continued to blare behind you. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t like being told what to do,” he mused, a small smile on his face. “Neither do you.”

You glanced at your computer screen. Turned off the alarm with the press of a button and allowed silence to reappear. What had happened? Hobie didn’t quit things without reason.

Quit? Just like that, he wanted you to leave the society you’d been invited into. He wanted you to abandon your work without even knowing what exactly caused it.

He moved closer, brushed his fingers against the underside of your jaw and smiled when he saw something in your expression.

“You’re a horrible influence,” you told him.

“I think I’m a brilliant one.”

You leaned into his touch and smiled. “This isn’t over when we walk away.”

He gave a small, breathy chuckle. “Oh, there ain’t a chance. We even have a pit stop to make before we head home.”

Your watch fell heavily onto the table as you dropped it. “You’ve never led me into anything but trouble.”

“That’s one of the reasons you love me.”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hey lil bro, hope you had a joyful birthday 🎂 and as always, thank you for what you do.

I'm not sure which format would be best, but it's for those M6 who knew MC before. How would they react or behave if MC comes back with cognitive loss compared to how they were before? Like it wouldn't be really noticeable if you hadn't known them before, but it's not insignificant for those who did?

Totally understandable if this isn't something you want to tackle. (This prompt is unfortunately personal for me so pls feel free to seek clarification if you do decide to go with it)

The Arcana HCs: When MC suffers from cognitive loss

~ for headcanon purposes, MC is dealing with short-term cognitive loss post upright ending due to a head injury/new meds/unforeseen but remedial issue. this manifests as poor short term memory, slowed thinking processes, difficulty putting together words, etc ~

Julian

He hates that you just can't seem to catch a break but he's so, so, so very happy that this is a situation that lets him use his strengths for you. Few things make him happier than knowing he's helping

You do quickly realize that much of the reason he's able to cope with your sudden change in functioning is years of "doctor mode"

That said, he'll turn any situation into a bonding moment

Can't remember the word you're looking for? He'll turn into a walking thesaurus and rattle off any and all related vocabulary he can remember (which is quite a bit, with all that reading)

Difficulty processing information? No worries, he can share his own thought process out loud so you have something to follow. You'll get there in your own time

There are moments when he worries that the care he gives you won't be enough to fix it, but he also knows that nothing about your situation changes who you are, or how much he loves you

Overjoyed when he sees you start to recover and makes a point of commemorating every milestone. He knew you could do it!

Asra

It's a mess and they know it's a mess and the main thing they feel is grief that you have to experience loss like this all over again

Being someone who doesn't process grief or sadness easily, he's going to work towards making life beautiful for you again instead. He is nothing if not resilient, adaptable, and hopeful

Even if you stay this way for the rest of your life, they'll still love you unconditionally and savor every day they get to spend with you

And it's that mindset riddled with hope and triggers that puts him on eggshells. He's not pressuring you, he's not afraid of you, but he's terrified of making things worse or making you feel lesser

So very gentle and accommodating about any new needs. You can't piece your sentence together? Take a deep breath, join your hands with theirs, and they'll work it out through your bond

Struggling to remember what you were going to do today? He'll remind you if he knows, and if he doesn't, it'll work itself out

Watching you work your way back to your usual state tells them all over again that holding out hope for your healing is always good

Nadia

Deeply upset about what you're losing and even more angry with herself for why she's bothered about it - your thoughts and words were what drew her in and made her fall for you

But now, both of those things have been compromised, and under the concern that you're missing something core to who you are is the fear that her love won't be strong enough to weather it

And she hates that about herself

Which is why she's not going to burden you with this set of insecurities. Rather, she's determined to see you get better, and she's going to put all her faith in who she knows you to be

In the process she ends up realizing that slower thoughts and cumbered speaking don't change anything about who you are. You're still you, and she loves you unfalteringly

She also gets terrifyingly good at saying what you're thinking before you even realize you're thinking it in conversations

So, so proud of you every step of your recovery. She's still permanently losing her habit of springing trick questions on you

Muriel

Is it still you? Yes. Are you alive? Yes. So what if you need to take extra time to collect your thoughts? His personal record for deciding what to have for dinner spans days

(A/N: this is called procrastination, and going without eating for that long was not good for him and something he needed to stop)

So what if you don't have words for what you're thinking? He doesn't have words either most of the time. It's all good

He's still bothered by it, though, because you're bothered by it. He can tell how frustrated you are with yourself and he hates seeing the way it affects your self-esteem. He'll help however he can

Don't worry about finishing your thought, life in the woods moves at glacial paces. Take as much time as you need to keep going

It's okay if you can't say the words you want to. Gestures work just as well - in fact, it's never too late to learn a little sign

If anything, it's refreshing to see you slow down to his pace

So happy for you as you recover. It makes no difference to his love for you, but you're happier for it and that's what matters

Portia

Oh, she's upset to the point of coming across as angry

Not at you - of course not at you, she knows this is in no way your fault, but between her empathic heart absorbing all of your frustration and grief and her own concern for you, it's ... a lot

The extent to which she's projecting her own feelings of being held back by her situation onto you doesn't help either

Which is why she's not giving up on you. If you reach a point where you'd rather find a way to make life good as is, then she'll make her peace with it. Until then, it's full steam ahead to your recovery

It's still a struggle with her own impatience, though. She finishes half the sentences you start with uncanny accuracy, and then beats herself up for not keeping your space to work through it

She misses being able to toss ideas back and forth and hearing your feedback right away, but she's learning to value it more

Bakes celebratory cakes and sweets every single time you hit a milestone or seem to have clearly improved, and never stops reminding you what a loved and delightful person you are

Lucio

His only personally negative feeling about this is that your communications lag-time gets frustrating when he's got the attention span of a squirrel in autumn. He's trying, okay?

Other than that, you're not that much different to him. You still love him. You're still here, despite the "oopsies". You're still very kissable

What truly bothers him is the dip in your own self-worth. He'd have to be blind to miss the way you deflate or panic a little every time you struggle or fail to do what used to be so easy for you

To him, you're the best. You're his best. That's how you deserve to feel about yourself. And if you aren't, he wants to help you out of it

His encouragement doesn't come from telling you you'll recover or from putting together a meticulous care plan. It comes in the form of jokes and hugs and "don't worry about it, you're still awesome"s

Which, granted, isn't necessarily the best emotional support for when you want to vent or process, but he's not going anywhere

You saved him, so you're stuck with him for life. He's dedicated to you whatever the outcome, and immeasurably proud of you always

[tommi3boy]

“I wouldn’t mind seeing your face here every once in a while.” | {SDV Harvey x gn! Reader}

Word count: 820

Warnings: minor injury, no name used

Pairing: Harvey x gn! reader

A/N: Farmers first interaction with Harvey, a little bit of corporate worker angst at the beginning but mostly fluff

“If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change” grandpa’s letter wrote. Those words spoke true to your situation. The day-to-day of being a corporate slave has sucked all the emotion from your being. You craved something that would bring that spark back. However, trying to bring your grandpa’s land to its former glory has proven to be a major challenge.

You lay awake in the small cabin, your back aches, and you’re desperately trying not to itch the bug bites on your arms. You’d be kidding yourself if you acted like the tremendous amount of physical labor was fulfilling. There was no turning back though, you had to put faith in your grandpa’s action for gifting you this opportunity.

Your first batch of parsnips were finally ready to be dug up. This was a huge achievement in your book, feeling that spark of joy flutter in your chest. You set off to town, hoping to get a couple bucks off the parsnips at Pierre’s general store.

Pierre seemed kind of shocked that you managed to actually grow some produce at the farm. He applauded your hard work and was thrilled about getting some more fresh produce in the future. Such a friendly interaction had brought on more of that fuzzy feeling you had been missing.

While you were in town, you needed to grab some basic first aid tools to clean up your blistered hands.

Unfortunately, Pierre’s didn’t carry such things, so you were ushered to head next door to the clinic.

This was your first time in the clinic since moving. The man behind the counter was scribbling something on paper when you entered. He looked up at the sound of the door.

“Hello, are you by chance the new farmer in town.”

This guy was nothing like what you imagined the town doctor to look like. He was quite handsome to be honest.

“Yup I’m the new farmer, sorry for not coming by to introduce myself earlier; I’ve been pretty busy.”

“No worries, my name is Harvey, I’m the town’s one and only doctor. Is there anything I can help you with today?”

He had that friendly kind of expression where you could see more of his smile in his eyes than on his lips.

“Nice to meet you Harvey, I just need some first aid supplies to keep at the farm. I’m new to this whole lifestyle, so I’m kind of a hot mess right now.”

His expression change was very animated, maybe a little amused at your words but also a little worried.

“Oh my, I bet that’s been rough. I can definitely lend you a first aid kit. Since you’re here, why don’t I fix you up.”

“Are you sure? It’s just minor things, and I’m sure you must be busy being the only doctor in town.”

You looked over the counter and saw he was doodling airplanes on a piece of scrap paper.

“I don’t mind one bit; it’s my job to help after all”

You were sat down in a small room and watched Harvey put some hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball to clean your blisters with.

“This might sting a little so bear with me.”

It sure did sting. Harvey was being really gentle about his care. He often looked up to see if you were making any sort of pained expression.

“So, what brought you to the valley? You said this was a new lifestyle for you; was there a sudden urge to become a farmer?”

You let out a small pained chuckle. “God I wish, I mean, it’s hard work but it’s satisfying. To be honest, I came to Stardew Valley on a whim, wanted a fresh start.”

“Ah I see, it’s a lovely town so I can see that sort of appeal. Try not to push yourself too hard though.”

You know he’s just saying that because it’s his job to care for the townsfolk’s health, but he seems really genuine with his words.

“I’ll make sure you don’t see me here too often,” you said jokingly.

“That’s the goal, but I wouldn’t mind seeing your face here every once in a while.”

Was that flirting? Maybe just friendliness, since this is a professional setting. You’re definitely a little flustered either way.

Harvey made a small care package of first aid items for you to take home. Your hands had some bandages on them, and he even went to the length of putting some ointment on your bug bites.

“Take care now farmer, and welcome to the town. I’ll be here if you ever need anything.”

“Thank you Harvey, you’re a really kind person.”

There was a little bit of rosiness in his smile when you left the clinic.

This new lifestyle of yours is really starting to pay off, you haven’t felt this kind of contentment in a long time.