#anyway i would have folded unfortunately!!!!

[beneaththebirches]

Liability: Part 1

Pairing: College Student!Rafe Cameron x Cousenlor!Reader

Summary: Rafe gets himself into a bit of a bind with one of the professors at Duke and is forced to see an on-campus counselor, someone he was very set on hating. But she’s extremely hard to hate.

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, mentions of drugs.

A/n: First of all, I want to mention that this fic is an AU type fic; it will only include Rafe’s mildly destructive behavior and daddy issues but this does not follow allow with the Outerbanks storyline. This is a repost from my original account @sublimecatgalaxy!

“So, what brought you to Duke?” 

My head tilts curiously at him, eyes trailing over his frame as he desperately tries to not tremble like a leaf. He’s either drunk, high or anxious (or all of the above), his eyes flickering around the dimly lit room, his eyes momentarily locking with the lava lamp in the corner of the room. When he looks around, he chooses to not look directly at me but instead at the wall behind me, knee bouncing anxiously as he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck. 

He resembles something close to agitation or anxiety and has since he walked in the room twenty minutes ago, not caring to say hi or introducing himself but instead just sat down on the couch across from me and decided to take his sentence in silence. It’s to be expected, especially from someone with his track record. I heard a little bit about him from the other faculty in the office and his professors, mixed reviews on his behavior but how, miraculously, his grades show the opposite.

Crossing my legs, I ready the notebook in my lap, pen tapping against the paper as I wait for him to answer my nth question of the night. After a few minutes of uncomfortable and unfortunate silence, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath before adjusting himself on the couch, eyes flickering up to look at the ticking clock on the wall.

“‘s a good college.” He shrugs simply, eyes flickering up to mine briefly as I let out a small sigh of relief at the sound of his deep voice. His back cracks as he leans back into the couch, biting at his lip as he watches my pen scribble aimlessly across my notepad. I can tell he wants to ask what I’m writing, which is the reason why I lifted the pen to draw a simple smiley face in the first place, knowing the thought of me analyzing him would drive him crazy.

“I’ve seen your grades, you should be proud.” The shocked uptick of his brows makes me laugh quietly to myself, taken back by his response to the simple praise. He nods sternly, a faint blush spreading across the tops of his cheekbones. “So why the self sabotage?” I quiz and his brows furrow cutely.

“What?”

“Keying a professor’s car?” His eyes immediately roll at the recollection of his transgressions, the events that brought him to my office three times a week. There’s a part of me that thinks he’s embarrassed, eyes low as he toys with the thick ring on his thumb but I can see the desperate need to defend himself behind his eyes, but instead he chooses the path of least resistance. 

“Got angry.” He answers simply but it’s not enough for me.

“Yeah, you have a history of that.” I sigh, placing his records on the table in front of him, giving up the gimmick of ‘good cop’, trying to get through to him as a counselor, but it took very little time to realize my coworkers were right- he’d never trust my authority- the little authority I have. He picks the papers up tentatively, almost looking at me with a ‘should I be seeing this?’ look but indulges anyways, flipping through the pages with a tight jar.

Folding my legs beneath me, a sad smile spreads across my lips as he tosses the sheets back onto the table in front of me, his fists clenching in his lap. I can’t tell if his anger stems from insecurities regarding his own actions or if he’s angry that others have had a view into his darker past. I can tell that he’s a closed off guy, that he doesn’t open up unless it’s mandatory and even then, he attempts desperately to not share, to not open up. 

“Look, Rafe, you have to do this- talk to me, I mean. You’re lucky you got mandatory counseling instead of mandatory jail time.” I laugh, trying to desperately ease the tension in the room but he doesn’t crack, just stares down at the packet of paper between us with uneasy eyes. But after a few minutes, my staring breaks through his tough exterior, a heavy sigh leaving him as he finally looks up at me, taken back by my comfortable stance. He mirrors me, folding a leg over his other before tossing his hands up in surrender.

“What do you want from me?” 

“Answer the questions I’ve gotta ask you, ask questions of your own- hell, talk about football or something that’s bugging you.” He cringes at the offer, his eyes fluttering shut to briefly imagine what it would be like if he had taken the punishment the professor originally wanted to force upon him but instead he’s stuck with the peppiest counselor he’ll ever encounter. 

“Are you an actual therapist?” He asks curiously, attempting to take a jab at my credentials but my smile only grows, happy that he’s taking a step in the right direction. 

“I have a masters degree in psychology.” My finger jabs up at the wall to his left, blue eyes following my direction to three diplomas on the wall.

I certainly never expected to end up in a university, tending to the most fucked up age group in the country- my generation. I wanted to go into forensics, to get into the grittiness of the mental psyche but you’d be amazed by the messed up shit you see on college campuses- the dorms, the streets late at night, the blackmail and betrayals. Some of the students that I see, like Rafe, are in mandatory counseling, probably to heal from academic issues or destructive tendencies. But others are girls looking for a way out of toxic relationships, young students who wish so desperately to come out to their parents, or the occasional meltdown where a student just needs me to listen.

 Maybe Rafe needs someone to just listen.

Either way, I’d never go back and change anything that led me to this couch right now.

“A masters- how old are you anyways?” He asks, suddenly confused at the math as he leans towards the diploma to look at the year it was dated. With a shocked huff, he turns back to me with wide eyes, elbows resting on his knees and I let out a small bashful laugh.

“I’m 23.” 

“Oh.” He mutters, shifting in his seat before adding, “I’m 20.” A fond smile stretches across my lips at his subtle attempt to connect, his quiet voice almost boyish and innocent. I’m not sure the connection was intentional or if he’s sizing me up but either way, the realization in our closeness in age sparks something in him, his discomfort seeming to fade more and more as our times goes on.

“I know. I have your chart.” I lift the binder from beside me into the air, waving it back and forth.

“What else is in there?” He asks, fingers rubbing along his jaw as his eyes seem to focus on his name that’s spelled across the front of the binder in big black letters.

“You’re 20, you have a 3.6 GPA, you’re majoring in Developmental Psych- which is interesting to me.” I snort, wanting nothing but to dive deeper into his psyche and understand why a smart, handsome athlete is majoring in something as specific as developmental psychology. They say people go into a psych degree to learn something about themselves, their past or their family. So, in Rafe’s case, which is it? “You’re a tight-end on our varsity football team, you came from the Outer Banks-” There’s a sense of tension that thickens the atmosphere around us at the mention of his hometown, his shoulders rolling and head tilting so he can direct his attention out the window to look at the setting sun,  his strong jaw squared. “I can also see that you spent two nights in jail, you’ve been arrested for drug possession and illegal possession of a weapon-” 

“You’ve got my full rap-sheet over there?” He snaps, voice no longer playful but instead he’s seething, brows furrowed as I pause, eyes widening at him briefly, almost asking him ‘may I continue’ without actually saying it. I fight the urge to ask him all of my questions at once; ‘why are you such a troublemaker?’, ‘why the need for drugs?’, ‘why’d you leave your hometown?’- but instead I bite my tongue.

“You’re not giving me anything else to go off of.” I whisper tiredly, anxiously looking up at the clock, wondering if we’ll even end up getting anywhere in this session and/or if I’ll be able to count it as a part of his punishment. A look of realization passes through his expression, his handsome face relaxing with a gentle nod. “You’re not exactly an open book.” He smiles sadly to himself, eyes focused down at his lap.

Take the path of least resistance, Rafe.

“What do you wanna know?” He gives in, clasping his hands in front of him as I grin, prepared to take full advantage of my power and make him laugh, something I’ve heard he doesn’t do often.

“What’s your favorite color-”

“Oh now you’ve overstepped.” He says, dead serious, but after a few moments of silence he breaks into quiet laughter, a shocked scoff leaving me at his teasing. “My favorite color- really? I keyed a car and this is my punishment?” He asks incredulously, scooting to the edge of his seat, the distance between us only lessening as I bite back a nervous smile, focusing on the job at hand- my job at hand.

“The point of counseling is to have breakthroughs and to form a relationship based on trust and open communication.” He cringes at my explanation, a look of discomfort passing through his eyes as he sucks in a breath. “You don’t seem like the trusting type but I’m willing to take my time.” My voice comes out ten times more flirtatious than I intended it to but it causes his whole body to pause, eyes looking up at me with a teasing look, the gears behind his eyes to turn. “To be honest, I have a bit of a habit of growing on people.” He snorts, biting at his lip.

“I gathered that.” He breathes, running his fingers through his hair before giving it a small tug.

“Are you saying I’m growing on you, Cameron- it’s been like a half an hour.” I tease, loving the innocent blush that covers his pale cheeks as he instantly tries to deny, head shaking immediately in defiance. It’s hard to imagine him doing all of the bad things I know he’s done, things that are more extreme and way beyond vandalism. He seems almost awkward at times, boyish and bashful as he’s slowly sinking into the comfort of my office and my prying- far from the man depicted in his records. 

“New record?”

“New record for sure.”

“Does that mean I’m free to go?” He quizzes and he blows out a breath, rubbing his clammy hands against the tops of his jeans. I ponder letting him go ten minutes early but there’s a part of me that isn’t quite ready to set him free from my clutches just yet.

“Sure.” His eyes light up at my agreement but before he can stand, I hold up a pointed finger at him, urging him to sit his butt back down. “On one condition.” He agrees almost immediately before knowing my true demand, head bobbing in an agreeable nod.

“Shoot.”

“Hand over your phone.” His face pales at my instructions, eyes staring at my open palm that sticks out to him, waiting for him to do what I said. He looks like a deer in headlights right before a catastrophic crash, tongue slipping out to wet his cracked lips as he stutters.

“Wha-”

“Give it.” I ask again, stern voice forcing a shaky, nervous laugh from him as he goes fishing in his pocket. He hands it over to me without any questions, his eyes watching me like a hawk as I go into his contacts, adding myself as ‘best counselor’.  “Only call or text if you’re having an emotional emergency and/or feel like doing something mildly self destructive.” I laugh but as I hand back his phone, he just shakes his head, brows furrowed in confusion as he stares down at the contact. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” I ask and he shrugs. “Why care?” The nod he gives me is almost sad, my heart aching in my chest at the thought of him being so out of touch when it comes to having people that care about him, people that want to see him succeed and to not key professors’ cars. “Because, it’s what I do. Get used to it.” Slipping his phone back into his pocket, I make my way to my feet and he does the same, awkwardly shuffling towards the door. His hand hesitates to reach out towards the handle, neck craning to look back at me with a desperate expression.

“You know that’s like asking a fish to breathe air, right?”

“Better learn.” I shrug, crossing my arms across my chest as he huffs, pouting like a child. Reaching out, I push him playfully towards the door as he groans, head tilting back at his steps out into the busy hallway. “Behave!”

“You got it!”What a liar.

[ladyintree]

"oh fuck you, dude. don't make me convince you to let me help you. you know i'm not letting you leave here like this, so at least you could have the decency to actually ask for my help."

van quote of all time and she says it all while she's looking at her like this?? van's so strong, so brave, look at the growth, everyone cheered

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[lordsukunas]

piggyback rides

synop: you want trueform!sukuna to give you a piggyback ride and he doesn’t know what it is. that’s it.

tags: fluffy fluff fluff, fem!reader (referred as woman once, refers to self as ‘queen’ and ‘wife’ once), ooc sukuna (only bc he’s less of an asshole), possessive behavior (kind of?), mentions of sukuna-typical violence, likely historically inaccurate, not proofread. i couldn’t determine whether or not he was actually wearing a haori or something similar - correct me if i’m wrong n i’ll change it!

notes: basic ass title ik... erm sorry! another post in two days is a miracle so i’m a little proud of myself. half-assed ending lol... anyway, this is just a silly lil drabble!! any interaction is much appreciated, enjoyyyy! :3

“what.”

the first set of crimson eyes dart down to look at you, the other set still tracking the scuttling servants. you’re situated quite snugly in his expansive lap — two thick arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his bare chest. “what the hell is that?”

you nibble the inside of your cheek to suppress a smirk. finally, you know something that sukuna does not! and it only took three years. “it’s where i get on your back and you carry me around. quite simple, truthfully.”

he snorts at the slight condescension in your voice. for something so agitating, you have quite the ego. “mm. and why should i do that for you? you can walk on your own, unless your legs are mysteriously broken all of a sudden.”

“because,” you say with a huff, “it’s fun. don’t you want to bond with your queen?”

anxious eyes of passing maids sneak glances at you, your little huff drawing their attention. sukuna shifts you in his lap, turning you to the side, and the massive sleeve of his robe moves to obscure your form from their undeserving gaze. “we have bonded enough.”

“and it would not hurt to bond some more!” you counter. sukuna’s stubbornness is something you absolutely adore about him, but not right now. “can the mighty king of curses not spare a moment of his day to entertain his wife’s wish?”

he falls silent at this, and you can practically see the gears churning in his big head. he’ll cave. if there’s one thing that’s undeniable about the sorcerer, it’s his curiosity.

“... fine,” he grunts. after scooping you up and setting you down, he stands up and gestures with his hand. “so how do we do it?”

your lips curve up into a smirk. “okay, turn around so that your back is facing me.”

sukuna turns around, folding one pair of arms over his chest.

“then, crouch down a little.”

a beat passes, and then he crouches down, back muscles flexing underneath the dark fabric of his haori.

you step up behind him and slide your arms around his neck. his adam’s apple bobs, and the other arms move to cradle your butt. “if this is an attempt to choke me, it isn’t work.”

he always thinks someone’s out to get him. you roll your eyes. “no. if i wanted to kill you, i likely would’ve attempted forever ago.” you lift your lower half onto the lower part of his back, and your legs wrap around his hips.

another beat passes. “is that it?”

“yep.”

sukuna adjusts you, his hold on you becoming more secure as he rights himself to his full height. the warmth of your breath ghosts across his ear, and he can smell the scented lotion you applied this morning.

why hadn’t he done this before?

“soooooo,” you drawl, and he can hear the smile in your beautiful voice without even having to look. you’re so close — he hears the little inhale before you speak, the nearly imperceptible huff of laughter once you finish. “what are you just standing here for? we gotta walk around, explore the estate! it’s not fun if we’re just stuck in one place.”

“i am not a servant,” he warns, voice gruff, but he starts to move towards the throne room’s exit anyway. anyone unfortunate enough bows, mutters a jumbled greeting to the both of you, and scrambles out of the way.

it’s no secret that sukuna is more... benevolent, when you’re around. but that is a double-edged sword — if someone dares to disturb your peace or inconvenience you in his presence, they’d be facing a swift death, along with their parents for giving birth to such vermin.

“apologies, my spectacular husband.” you lean forward a bit and press a kiss onto his cheek, leaving a faint lipstick stain. “now, please, venture forth.”

he rolls his eyes. “if you command me again, woman, i am going to sprint.”

the teasing lilt quickly disappears from your voice, and your arms tighten around his neck. “n-no, that isn’t necessary.”

sukuna’s pace increases, now a brisk jog instead of a leisure walk, and you can hear the gravel crunching beneath his feet. “oh? is it not?”

“it isn’t!” you squeak. a little embarrassing, yes, but you know how fast sukuna is — you’re positive that if he broke out into a full-speed run, you’d be sick by the end of it.

“let’s find out and see.”

[drchucktingle]

my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

[bean-pronounced-bawn]

I'm so fucking done with my coworker. I've been sad about the fact that I'm leaving in less than a month but she made me want to leave like now. I want out. Fuck her and fuck this job.

[x-brik-x]

I'm seeing a lot of people say that punk fashion is expensive and inaccessible, which is very wrong. here is a list of some ways you can make punk fashion easier, cheaper and more accessible for you, since that's... kinda the whole point.

others are encouraged to add onto this!! (just don't recommend corporations like amazon. not cool.)

1. patches!! you don't need to buy them. DIY patches are not ugly or boring. in fact, they are encouraged here!! DIY, in my opinion, is always the best thing to do when it is an option and is safe to do so.

2. speaking of DIY, spikes!! you can make them!!

cut the top and bottom off of an empty can. cut down the middle of the cylinder and flatten it, so it's just a flat rectangle of metal.

cut out a shape that is kind of a third of a circle, but around 3/4 of the curved edge is taken up by triangle shapes. (I'm not very good at describing, so here's a badly drawn picture)

roll it into a cone, leaving the 4 triangles sticking out at the bottom. this bit is optional, but you can fill it with hot glue to make it more sturdy, just be careful touching the hot metal. I tend to hold the cone by one of the triangles with a bit of fabric wrapped around my fingers for this bit. cut 4 small holes in your fabric in this kind of shape:

and put the spiky bits of triangle through the holes. fold the triangles in on themselves to secure the spike in place. boom. spike obtained. this is one I made and attached to a little piece of fabric to test this method out:

3. battle vests!! (like the base jackets). the best places to buy these are charity shops and second hand websites in my opinion, but if anyone else knows any better options, please reblog with those!!

a good trick I find works well on eBay is to filter search results to your country (or state? can you do that in the US? idk) so that a: fast delivery because local, and b: all the sellers of everything that shows up are in YOUR TIME ZONE.

why is this important? when people sell something for really cheap, it goes FAST. check eBay at like, 2am or something. all the scalpers in your area are asleep. grab the cheap stuff while they can't.

4. sewing!! want patches, but can't sew for whatever reason? I've heard of a lot of people with joint conditions like arthritis complain about the inaccessibility of patch stuff, and that does sound extremely annoying, however:

safety pins!! while they are still a little fiddly, they're much less work so you don't have to fiddle about for long. if you can, you could even ask a friend to help, since it doesn't take long at all I'm sure someone will be willing to help out!! (I know I would, but that's just me, and I love this kind of thing). safety pins on clothes are also widely considered to be a symbol of solidarity, so if anything, you're adding some extra love and meaning to your patch pants/battle jacket.

if that's still too fiddly, fabric glue is always an option. unfortunately this means you won't be able to remove/reposition patches, at least without leaving a massive patch of residue, but if you're ok with that then fabric glue is probably your best bet.

for people who prefer sewing: as for where to get the thread, I've heard a lot of people recommending dental floss, as it's apparently much cheaper and works just as well. I haven't tried this myself so can't confirm that, but I thought I'd share it regardless.

5. where to get fabric!! old clothes. rip em up. you don't need any kind of fancy fabric from the craft store. my patches are made of old jeans that I grew out of.

don't have any old clothes and you don't want to waste any good ones? I'm not sure about other countries, but in the UK, as long as you're not on private property (trespassing), dumpster diving is perfectly legal.

I definitely ;) do NOT encourage ;) trespassing rich people's land ;) to steal from their dumpsters ;)

or tbh it doesn't matter too much how rich the person is, since it's all going to landfill anyway. if it's in the bin, it's free game, but you didn't hear that from me. ;)

please add onto this where you can!! and if I missed something or got anything wrong, add that on too!!

[brokenmenswhore]

helloooo do u think u could do a poly marauders smut where they all get jealous and punish reader 😁

absolutely i do

punish | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, & sirius)

warnings: choking, rough sex (MDNI 18+), smut, spanking, triple penetration (including anal)

────── ☾ ──────

“You’re joking. I mean, you have to be joking, right?”

You toyed with your fingers, watching your hand movements in an effort to keep your head down and avoid eye contact as your legs began to shake, your feet reaching the floor as you sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m sorry, it just felt like something I should tell you-“

“It felt like something you should tell us? Fucking hell, angel, you can’t be agreeing to dates with other guys when you’re with us.”

You sighed, protesting, “but it’s not a date! He just needs help studying, I just thought it would be weird if I didn’t tell you.”

“If it’s something you have to sit us down and tell us about, doesn’t that set off a red flag?” James asked calmly, trying to level with you.

“I mean, not always,” you admitted, “I kinda have to do this with Sirius every time I even breathe the same air as a boy.”

Sirius was pacing back and forth in front of your bed, but he stopped when you spoke his name, turning toward you. “Do not act all innocent with me, you know you lead them on.”

“I don’t!” you protested.

Sirius was frustrated, his nostrils flaring as he gripped your jaw, forcing your head upward and your eyes to look at him.

“Look me in the eyes and try to tell me you didn’t say yes to him, knowing we would have an issue with it.”

“I-“

“That’s what I thought,” Sirius spat, “you knew how we would react, yet you agreed to it anyway.”

“You don’t control my decisions.”

You knew what you were doing by talking back to Sirius. He knew you made your own choices, but the truth was, you made this choice because you knew it would piss your boyfriends off. When they were jealous, they were mean.

Sirius tightened his grip. “What did you just say to me?”

“Take it easy, Sirius,” Remus said, approaching you two, “she’s clearly doing it to get a rise out of you.”

Sirius stared into your eyes. “Are you?”

Instead of responding, you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, which was the wrong thing to do.

Sirius pulled you to a stand by your jaw, spinning you around and pushing your front down, folding you onto the mattress.

“Something funny?” Sirius asked, and you shook your head no, your breath taken away by the haste of his action.

Remus leaned over the other side of the bed, his chin resting against the mattress, his face level with your own. “I tried to stick up for you, but unfortunately I think you’re going to miss your date.”

“It’s not a d-“

Before you could finish your retort, Sirius connected his palm with the flesh of your ass, causing your body to jolt slightly forward.

You gasped at the sudden pain, and Remus stuck his lower lip out, hyperbolically pouting. “Poor baby, did that hurt? Maybe you shouldn’t agree to dates with other guys.”

You sighed. “But I told you it-“

Sirius hit you again, harder this time. You nearly squeaked at the surprise of the feeling.

“Just stop talking, baby,” James said. He was standing somewhere behind you, near Sirius, but you couldn’t see him. He was always the nicest to you, and his brain felt bad when you were being punished, as much as his cock disagreed.

Sirius flipped your skirt up and pulled your underwear down your legs, exposing you from behind to your boyfriends.

“James, care to take over?” Sirius asked, backing away from your body.

James smiled, dropping to his knees, his face level with your core. You couldn’t see what was happening, but you knew it was James from the way he slowly darted out his tongue, tasting between your folds as his hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place.

James was by far the most skilled with his tongue, so the boys elected that he would be best equipped to work you up properly.

You rested the side of your head against the sheets, whining softly as James began to taste you, swirling his tongue around your bud and sucking on your clit.

It was difficult for you to stay quiet, especially with James between your legs. The more he worked you up, the louder he became.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Shut up,” Remus demanded.

You couldn’t help but continue to moan and whine as James flicked your bud, causing your legs to shake slightly as he grabbed your ass, pressing his face even closer into your cunt.

“I said shut up,” Remus warned, “bad girls don’t get to make noise.”

“I’m not a bad girl,” you protested.

Remus gave you a wide-eyed stare. “You really wanna be punished today, huh?”

You only squealed in response when James’s tongue began to move faster and faster, trying to coax you to climax.

Remus bent down next to you and clasped a hand over your mouth, shutting you up since you wouldn’t do so yourself.

Your moans were muffled under his hand, which only worked James up more. He wanted to watch you struggle, and he wanted to make you moan so loud that it wouldn’t matter if Remus’s hand was covering your mouth or not.

You gripped the sheets, trying to steady yourself. Sirius, who was suddenly behind you, lifted one of your legs until it was bent on the bed, giving James even easier access to your core. You were even more on display for the boys with your skirt forcibly pushed up around your waist.

You were whining freely underneath Remus’s hand, your orgasm threatening to crash over you at any moment. Just when you began to squirm from the near overstimulation, James pulled away, bending his body identically over yours and moving his hand to insert a finger into your core.

You tried to press your forehead into the sheets, but Remus’s grip on your mouth was too tight. As James began to ruthlessly move his finger in and out of you, his unoccupied hand pressed the side of your head into the mattress.

“You wanna come?” he whispered into your ear, and you did your best to nod your head, but it was nearly impossible.

Just as you began to squeeze around James’s finger, he pulled completely away from you, leaving your core feeling empty and your body cold due to his body no longer against yours.

Your count clenched around nothing, the empty feeling causing you to wiggle your ass in an attempt to get one of the boys to give you the attention you now craved.

“Flip.”

Remus’s voice was strict, your body reacting to his instruction as you stood and turned over, laying back down on the bed. Finally facing upward, you could see what was going on.

Remus stood between your legs and pulled you toward the edge of the bed. You leaned yourself up on your elbows, but Sirius was way ahead of you, gripping your wrists and pinning your arms on either side of your head.

Remus pulled down his pants, lining the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

“Gotta remind you who you belong to, hm?” Remus said, slowly pushing the head of his cock into you.

He quickly pulled it back out, teasing your entrance as Sirius held your wrists down, watching you squirm and writhe in need and anticipation.

“Actually, I don’t know,” Remus said, continuing to tease you, “seems you might have already forgotten who’s you are.”

You furiously shook your head no, trying to demonstrate that you hadn’t forgotten you were theirs. You were so desperate to feel Remus inside of you, that you would have done anything to get him to fuck you already.

“Tell us you’re ours,” Sirius demanded, his face next to yours as he stood on the opposite side of the bed, still holding your wrists.

“I am, I’m yours-“

“So then you shouldn’t have agreed to date another guy,” James said, cutting you off.

The moment James’s sentence finished, Remus slammed his entire length into you, causing your body to hit forward.

You cried out, and Sirius dropped your wrists, instead opting to cover your mouth with one hand and your neck with the other.

Remus began to snap his hips in and out, not giving you an adjustment period before he began to ruthlessly fuck you. You didn’t dare move the positioning of your arms, keeping them up as you gripped the sheets beside your head.

You tried to moan and whine, but Sirius had a firm grip on your throat and was using the hand over your mouth to press your head deeper and deeper into the mattress.

Tears threatened to spill from the intensity, which was involuntary, but was also Sirius’s favorite thing.

“Aweh, poor baby, you gonna cry?” Sirius mocked.

You couldn’t help the slight hiccups that came as you cried, which only egged Sirius on more. “You don’t wanna be punished anymore, hm? Then maybe you shouldn’t be saying yes to other guys like a filthy fucking whore.”

You tried to nod your head in protest that no, you were not a filthy fucking whore, and you didn’t say yes to other guys, but you could barely move.

Remus was gripping your hips with no remorse, nearly bruising the skin from the pressure. He leaned over you, adding onto Sirius’s words as he whispered in your ear with each thrust, “filthy. Fucking. Whore.”

You were trying to catch your breath from your cries, but you could only take deep breaths through your nose. The boys were amused watching you struggle, and Remus was fucking you hard, consumed with his own pleasure and hellbent on denying you yours.

Your walls began to clench around Remus, and he immediately pulled out, bending over to steady himself. He had denied himself an orgasm in order to prevent yours. Still, he backed away from you, no intent to finish himself off when you were right there.

Sirius let go of your mouth and neck, but only to shift positions with the boys. You took the opportunity to immediately cry, “please, Rem, please, I need it-“

“Sh,” James took over, “I’m sorry, bunny, but this is a punishment, and you know what that means, don’t you?”

You sniffled, “I don’t get to come until all of you do.”

“Good girl,” James said, “stand up for a second for me, yeah?”

You stood, your legs shaking as James laid down on the mattress and patted his lower stomach. You crawled back onto the bed, swinging one leg over his waist to straddle him.

He was already unclothed, and Sirius was the same, appearing behind you as he knelt on the bed between James’s legs.

You looked between the two boys in confusion before your eyes widened in realization.

“Siri, I can’t-“

Sirius could tell you were nervous, so he dropped the intense wall for a brief moment to ask you for your consent.

Despite your tears, you nodded yes, wanting to please them but also aware that you could absolutely handle it.

“Up,” James tapped the side of your thigh, prompting you to raise your hips. He gave himself a few lazy strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. You slowly sank down onto his length, sighing in appreciation at the feeling of being filled again.

When you were all the way down, James pulled your body against his, holding you tightly as he stilled inside of you.

Sirius had already lubricated his cock in preparation, bending down to bite the flesh of your ass before lining his tip up with your other hole.

James held you tightly as Sirius pushed just his tip inside, a long gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion.

You buried your face into the crook of James’s neck as Sirius slowly inserted himself into your ass. If you let out a particularly high squeak, Sirius stilled for a moment, but otherwise he moved as slow as he possibly could until his entire length was inside of you.

James lifted his head off the bed to peek at where your three bodies connected, bridged through you, and you took the opportunity to grab the back of James’s head, desperate for anything other than the mattress to ground yourself on.

You stayed in your position, heavy breathing as you adjusted to both boys, Sirius grabbing your hips and James’s arms remaining wrapped around your torso.

“Tell us when we can move, doll,” Sirius said, his composure faltering.

You gave it a few minutes, allowing the pain to subside as your hole stretched, before telling the boys, “I’m okay.”

James and Sirius exchanged a look, and James smiled wide as he slowly pushed his hips upward, stimulating your cunt. You moaned from the sudden movement, holding James close to you as he loosened his grip around your body, shifting and holding the sides of your torso as he moved, trying his hardest to keep you from bouncing. He was afraid of hurting you due to Sirius, but it was hard to hold back when you were on top of him with two cocks inside of you.

James set a steady pace, not nearly as rough as Remus, but not slow either. After a few minutes of adjusting to James, Sirius tightened his grip on your hips in warning.

You inhaled a sharp breath in anticipation right before Sirius slowly pulled a tiny bit out, pushing back in to test the waters. You nearly collapsed even more onto James’s body, but Sirius’s grip kept your hips tilted upward.

Sirius began to move in and out slowly, cautious of just how far back he pulled out with each stroke. It hurt like hell for a moment before the pain subsided, and all you could feel was pleasure twice over.

“Fuckin’ hell,” James moaned, throwing his head back against the pillows as both he and Sirius worked you up.

They tried to stay in a rhythm, one pushing in while the other pulled out, but quickly became too engrossed in the act to worry about the other one’s pacing.

You were still crying softly, whining and whimpering at a much higher pitch than you usually did.

Sirius smacked your ass, causing you to throw your head back and moan. He took the opportunity to grip your hair, keeping your head in position. At the new angle, James could see your face clearly, and he couldn’t look away.

“Who do you belong to?” Sirius asked.

You nearly choked trying to speak. “You.”

Sirius balled your hair up into a ponytail, signaling James to take over the hold. James grabbed your hair, pulling until your head was turned to look at where Sirius connected his body with yours.

Your holes were so tight around both boys that they both knew they wouldn’t last long.

“Looks so fuckin’ good,” James said, “you like it when Sirius and I fuck you at the same time?”

You only moaned in response, but that wasn’t good enough. Sirius spanked you again, and you looked him dead in his eyes, swallowing your pride and embarrassment and saying, “I love it when you fuck me at the same time.”

Sirius groaned at your words, especially the sight of you speaking them while looking him in the eyes, and he subsequently picked up the pace.

There was a sudden tap on your jaw, and you cocked your head upward to see Remus kneeling in front of you, lazily stroking his cock in front of your face.

“You wanna be a good girl?” he asked you.

You nodded your head yes, and before he could even instruct you to open your mouth, you stuck your tongue out, ready for him.

He gave you a smile in return before he pushed his cock past your lips. You struggled to move your head, your body rocking in all directions from the two boys already inside of you, and Remus noticed instantly.

“Sh, sh, keep your head still, that’s it, good girl,” Remus spoke, gently holding the back of your head as he began to thrust his hips forward into your mouth.

Every few hits, his cock grazed the back of your throat, causing you to gag a moan. The sound and sight drove Sirius over the edge, and his thrusts became harder and sharper.

James didn’t calm down as Sirius became more intense, and Remus didn’t care about either of them.

Sirius hit a final few thrusts before he pulled out of you, spilling his seed onto your ass and hips, watching as it dripped down the curves of your body.

Remus was the second to come, so worked up from earlier that he knew he would be done for within minutes, and he was right. His come shot to the back of your throat, and you swallowed the entire load, sticking your tongue out to show him you had done so.

You dropped your head in a desperate attempt to relax as James continued to thrust up into you. You were fighting with everything you were to keep from coming, and you desperately needed James to release so you could, but he was arguably being the meanest of them all.

Every time he would feel himself approaching his climax, he would force himself to slow down. He was greedy, and now that Remus and Sirius were done, he had you all to himself. He knew you were fucked out, but he also knew you hadn’t come yet, and wanted to savor the journey.

“Jamie, please-“ you cried.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered in your ear.

“I’m yours, I’m all of yours-“

“No no, baby, tell me you’re mine.”

You moved to hold yourself up on either side of James’s head, looking down at him as you spoke softly so that only he could hear, “I’m yours, James, all yours.”

Your words were enough for him.

He came inside of you, his leg muscles spasming as he hit deep within your cervix.

He came down from his high inside of you, pulling out and lifting you upward, his hands on your hips as he shifted you to lay down on the bed.

You rested your back against the sheets, looking at your three boyfriends, nervous and expectant.

“I don’t know, do you think you deserve to come?” Sirius asked.

You furiously nodded your head yes, the aching between your legs growing. You were tired, but you were desperate.

“I just don’t know-“

“Please,” you begged.

“Sirius, c’mon,” James bargained, running his fingers through his hair, “she did great. Just let her come already.”

Sirius looked to Remus, who was way ahead of him.

Remus took his position between your legs, gently spreading them apart as you whimpered.

“Sh, you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, “I’m alright.”

“You ready for me?”

“Please,” you breathed out.

Remus slowly inserted himself into you, your back arching up off the bed from the overstimulation.

For the first time the whole time you’d been getting punished, Remus leaned down and kissed you. You nearly choked on tears from the happiness and relief that came from the feeling of his lips on yours. While you enjoyed the roughness and punishment, it was nice to be grounded back to safety and intimacy.

Remus continued to kiss you as he fucked you, never moving too fast for fear that he may hurt you. You were overstimulated and edged enough that within few minutes, you came hard around Remus, never breaking the kiss as you whined into his mouth.

Remus didn’t pull away as your legs shook rapidly. You rested them flush against the mattress, and Remus slowly pulled out of you, giving you one final kiss before rolling off of you.

You caught your breath, unable and unwilling to move from your position from pure exhaustion.

“Gonna get you cleaned up and then we’ll all relax together, okay?” Sirius cooed, wiping the sweat-soaked hair away from your face.

“Thank you,” you said as he gently maneuvered a washcloth between your legs.

When you were cleaned up, James lifted you off the bed, and Remus pulled the sheets down before James placed you back down, pulling the sheets up over you and shifting into bed next to you. Remus joined you on the other side.

“Fuck you guys, where am I supposed to go?”

You shifted slight forward, and Sirius took the hint, climbing over everyone to seat himself directly behind you. You rested back against his chest, exhaustion consuming your body as you fell into a sleep that meant you would most certainly miss your “date.”

[yeonzzzn]

pleaseee im begging for your next sunghoon one-shot to be toxic hoon. maybe an exes to lovers type of situation where he's losing his shit seeing you finally move on shdhjwjd 🧎‍♀️

I hope this is what you were looking for anon🤭 this is sooo angsty but I hope you enjoy it anyways 🩵

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unsteady: park sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 2.6k

“I hope one day someone will love me as much as I loved you.”

Those were the last words you said to him as you stormed out of his apartment. Slamming the door in his face and leaving him alone in his living room.

Sunghoon stared at the door, counting down the seconds until you’d walk right back into his apartment and into his arms, apologizing for the fight, apologizing for breaking up with him.

But you never did.

He stood at the door for a good ten minutes before he finally realized you weren’t coming back.

It was the first time Sunghoon was actually scared of losing you. Scared he’d never see you again. Hold you again. Kiss you, take you to his bed, take you to your bed.

For half a second Sunghoon had regrets, but shoved it down with a smirk on his face, “She’ll be back.”

It’s been almost a year since you last saw him or spoke to him. You never once contacted him about the stuff of yours that still lingers in his apartment or your favorite hoodie you left in his car. You didn’t have the heart to try and get it back. Too afraid you’d fold right back into him.

Sunghoon was toxic, manipulative, and gaslit you daily. Was he a bad person? No. He was actually and honestly, a really good guy? Absolutely. You fell in love the moment you met him. Sunghoon had a reputation at college. The cool guy who slept with any girl who batted their pretty little eyes at him. The guy who was at every party, you’d never see him not at one. The guy who held a smirk on his face the entire time around his friends as they walked around campus.

But with you? He wasn’t that guy. He was sweet, loving, caring, and soft. He was the guy who worked at the local animal shelter to take care of the abandoned animals. He was the guy who would curl up in bed with you in his arms as he reread his favorite book. The one who’d whisper praises in your ear as he fucked you gently. Who’d cook for you and buy you flowers.

But on campus? He went back to the cool guy persona. Eventually, over time those lines got blurred. His two personas fused until the cool side overtook the sweet one. You didn’t recognize him anymore. He stopped being the sweet Sunghoon you grew to love, and become the one you hated.

You still loved him, but hated him all the same. When fights would break out, you always ran back to him. It was a repeated process over and over and over. Until you gave up and walked out that door for good, saying those final words to him.

And oh god did those words ring in his ears for that entire year.

You finally moved on, or well, tried to. You started finally going on dates again, meeting new people, and trying new things out. But unfortunately, it never worked out.

“I don’t get it,” you sigh, dropping yourself onto your best friend's couch, “They just—“

“Aren’t Park Sunghoon?” he said, giving you a teasing smile before waving his hand for you to quickly sit up.

“Sunno,” you pouted, waiting for your best friend to sit down so you could lay your head in his lap, “Sunghoon was an asshole.”

“I mean, yeah,” he shrugged, “But you’re looking for him in every man you’ve met, that’s why it’s not working.”

You roll your eyes, “It’s been practically a year, I’m so over it.”

Sunno rolls his eyes back, “Right. Keep telling yourself that YN.”

Before you can protest, your phone vibrates in your pocket, receiving a notification that you’ve gotten a new match on the dating app you’ve been using.

You sat up, scrolling through his profile, “I may have found someone.”

Sunoo raises his brows and glances at your phone and nods in approval.

—

You’ve been on multiple dates with Soobin since then. You haven’t been able to get over how sweet he was. Always opening doors (including car doors) for you. Pulling chairs out and waiting until you sat comfortably before pushing you closer to the table.

He always paid for your meals and coffee. Has even brought you meals and coffee to your workplace and when you’ve gotten out of class. He takes your hand before you cross the street. And walks you to your front door of your apartment, kissing you softly and not walking away until he hears the lock bolt shut.

He was everything you could have hoped for in someone. He did what Sunghoon did and more. You were lucky to have met Soobin.

But something still held you back. You didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend yet, or that you hadn’t met his friends. Or maybe you were just scared.

But you clung to Soobin anyway, walking down the street with him as the late winter snow started to fall. Soobin stopped walking to step in front of you, pulling your jacket tighter around you, “Are you too cold? Need my jacket too?”

You shook your head, “Thank you, Bin, but I am okay. You need to keep yourself warm too.”

Soobin gave you his bunny smile that you adore so much, watching as his blonde hair waved in the cool wind as he bent down and placed his lips against yours.

Sunghoon just happened to walk out of the coffee shop across the street when he noticed your arm linked with someone he didn’t know. Watching as this man stops in front of you and then kisses you.

Even though his face was tight and non-activated, his heart was breaking. Chills were sent down his spine at seeing someone who was him kissing you.

Sunghoon watched as the guy cupped your face, giving you a couple more kisses before planting one on your forehead and then pulling you to his side to continue walking. Sunghoon ran back inside the coffee shop, praying to whatever god was listening that you didn’t see him.

He spent that night pacing in his living room. Fingers between his teeth chewing at the nail. It was driving him up a wall at the image of Soobin kissing you. It repeated in his brain over and over again and he hated it. Why did he hate it? Why did it bother him? It’s been a year. He’s already done his time of pouting over your loss in his life. Why did he care so much?

Sunghoon kept asking himself that question as his thumbs hovered over your contact information, the photo of him kissing your cheek and the biggest smile on your face was still his contact photo for you. A pink heart emoji was still by your name. His hands trembled looking at the contact.

So he locked his phone and tossed it onto the couch, deciding he wasn’t going to worry about it.

But luck wasn’t on his side as he continued to see you around town with Soobin. And the more he saw you with him, the more Sunghoon started to lose his shit.

Every time Soobin would lean down to kiss you, Sunghoon’s heart would stop beating. Anytime he saw Soobin practically eye fuck you, it took everything in him to not march over and start swinging.

He had to do something—ANYTHING—to get you away from Soobin. To break up with him. To stop smiling at Soobin the way you used to smile at him.

It all kept him awake at night. And one night, Sunghoon broke. Sitting up so fast in bed and grabbing his phone from the charger and dialing your number.

ring…ring…

“Hello?”

Sunghoon nearly had a heart attack, he wasn’t expecting you to answer, “Hey, YN…”

“Sunghoon?” you sleepy said, pulling your phone from your ear to make sure you indeed were talking to Sunghoon. You blinked a few times to make sure you saw the name correctly and then the panic set in. Why was he calling you? When your phone started ringing you just naturally picked it up, being too tired to check the caller ID.

“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he whispers, hands shaking, “Did I wake you?”

You yawn on the other end, “I mean, yeah.”

Sunghoon sighed, “I’ll let you go back to sleep, I’m sorry.”

“No, Hoon what do you want? It’s two AM.”

“I just…wanted to talk to you. Come over? Please.”

You wanted to say no. To hang up the phone and go back to sleep and act like the call never happened. But his voice, the tiredness, and restlessness in it…something was wrong. You felt it.

Now you stood in his living room, standing in front of him as he leaned against the back of his couch. His hair was a mess, heavy bags were under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t eaten much lately.

“Hoon,” you whispered, “What’s wrong?”

He couldn’t look at you, “How have you been?”

You cross your arms, “I know for a fact you didn’t wake me up at two in the morning to ask me to come here just to ask how I’ve been. Texting would have worked.”

Sunghoon scoffed, immediately putting that barrier over his heart, the one he put up when he realized how madly in love he was with you all that time ago, the barrier that eventually caused you to leave him. Sunghoon has had way too much time lately to think about what went wrong, and after seeing you with Soobin…it was all clear to him, “Right, but I can’t text you if you have a boyfriend, right? Can’t chance him seeing it.”

You looked at him confused, “What boyfriend?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms now, narrowing his eyes at you, “Don’t play stupid, YN. The blonde guy you were making out with on the sidewalk two weeks ago.”

He saw. He’s seen you with Soobin. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you happy, knowing that Sunghoon knew.

“Are you stalking me now?” you raised a brow and scoffed, “Didn’t take you to be that type.”

“I’m not stalking you. I just happened to have seen you with him.”

You roll your eyes, “Soobin isn’t my boyfriend, but if that’s all you wanted to say, then can I go?”

Sunghoon didn’t answer, he just stared at you, trying to find the words to beg you to not go. To stay with him.

You poked your tongue in your cheek, starting to turn away, “Is he better than me?”

You whipped back around to look at him, “Excuse me?”

Sunghoon shrugged, “Is he better than me? There’s no way he is,” he chuckles, “If he was you’d be fucking him right now instead of standing here in front of me.”

Oh, you were heated, “You know what, Sunghoon, this reason right here is why I ended it with you. You’re so toxic and say such shitty and hurtful things and you don’t even care.”

He shrugs, looking away from you and to the hallway, “Can’t blame me when all you do is yell at me.”

There it was. That toxic side. That part where he tries to flip the tables against you.

Tears swelled in your eyes as you looked at him, “I don’t need this,” you turned and walked towards the door, “Goodbye, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon was immediately at your side, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him, “No, baby, please don’t go.”

You tried to push out of his grip, “Don’t call me that! It hurts too much!” The tears were now falling down your face, blurring your vision as you continued to try and push him off you.

Sunghoon gripped both sides of your arms, “Please don’t walk away from me again!” he gently shook you, “I am so fucking in love with you. I won’t be able to handle it if you walk back out that door again.”

Tears were now in his eyes, his body shaking and his knees weak.

You blinked a few times to regain your vision, seeing the man in front of you, seeing how the tears rushed down his face.

Sunghoon fell to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding to your waist and resting his head against your stomach, “I couldn’t stand seeing you with him. It hurt too damn much,” his voice became shaky, unsteady, “I need you, baby, and I am so so so sorry for how I treated you. You didn’t deserve it. I lost sight of who I was. I was scared to let myself fully love. To let you fully love me. And it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I let you walk away. I was toxic, I was an asshole. But I can’t lose you again. Not again. I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know how I survived the first time and I sure as hell know I won’t this time if you walk away from me.”

He sobbed, not being able to stop his tears from drenching the carpet at his knees, squeezing his hands tightly at your side, begging and pleading with you to not leave him.

You slowly rested your hands in his hair, parting it neatly like how he likes it done and slowly sliding your hand down his face. He leaned into your touch, your thumbs wiping away the tears that stained his face.

You still loved him. Every piece of him. Sunoo was right, you looked for Sunghoon in every man you met. Didn’t want to commit because they weren’t him. Soobin was different, yeah, but he still wasn’t Sunghoon.

You knelt down in front of him, not at eye level with him, “Please stop crying,” you whispered, “I’m right here.”

He shook his head, “I can’t lose you again.”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, resting your forehead against his, “You won’t. I’m right here.”

Sunghoon pulled you into his lap, holding onto you for dear life as if someone was going to rip you from him. He dug his face into your neck, squeezing you tightly to him, “I love you and I am so so sorry.”

You leaned into him, “I love you so much, I forgive you.”

You’ve never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so open, and wearing his heart on his sleeve. He’s never held you so tight before. Never kissed your neck and shoulder like he was right now, with so much love and desperation to keep you.

You stayed in his lap until his crying slowly and breathing was steady again. You played with his hair until you felt his grip on you loosen, “You need some sleep.”

He barely was able to shake his head, “I don’t want you to go.”

You forced him to look at you, slowly placing kisses on his moles, “I’ll stay the night.”

Sunghoon slowly nodded, wrapping his arms tightly back around you and carrying you to his room, gently laying you down on his bed and cuddling up to you, pulling you to his chest.

“Baby?”

“Yes, Hoonie?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked up at him, giving a small smile and nod, “I would love that.”

Sunghoon didn’t waste a moment to cup your face and kiss you softly, completely breathing you in.

He was unsteady without you, and it took losing you for him to realize it. You kept him centered. And he’s not going to risk losing you again. 

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

[cinnamon-girl-writes]

sleeping headcanons w/ aot men

by @cinnamon-girl-writes!

eren: snores like a mf 😭 and normally, when people snore it's a habit developed later in life from conditions like sleep apnea (or depending on their sleeping position) but NO this boy has been snoring LOUD ASF every single night since he was like 2. which is like.....isn't ur dad a doctor......shouldn't he have noticed and at least mentioned it.......(jk we all know grisha forgot about eren) also he gives me the vibes of like. insists on sleeping naked (under the guise of 'health benefits' but really he just gets hot and is too lazy to remove the blanket or turn off the fan) lowkey has scared

armin: definitley drools in his sleep (it's okay girl me too) and i feel like he also clings onto something while he sleeps, like a blanket (or his s/o) also sleep talks *sometimes* but only when he has a particularly vivid dream

jean: BIG SPOON FS>> but when he's sleeping alone, i feel like he'd sleep on his side. he doesn't really snore or anything but he DEFINITELY moves a lot in his sleep. lowkey you can't even take a nap with him because he WILL kick you (and then apologizes for it in the morning and kisses your battle scars (bruises from his bony ass foot)) also pls someone give him head scratches 🙏🏻

reiner: i feel like he'd be *fairly* normal except occasionally he snores so fucking loud it's like a construction site and you cannot wake him up. anyways the most important thing to now about reindeer is that he WILL crush you/suffocate you in your sleep on accident 😭 like he'd just roll over normally in his sleep and all of a sudden you can't breathe. and also you can't move him so you jsut??? try an wake him up i guess but then you feel bad??

bertholdt: so we know about his weird sleeping positions, but i'm telling you this man sleeps so hard it's literally terrifying when you go to wake him up. like, you're shaking him super hard and saying his name and this man DOES NOT BUDGE 😭 eventually when he does he apologizes for almost giving you a heart attack (also he's fs the best cuddler on this list, just above reiner)

connie: nahhh he definitely does some weird ass shit in his sleep like punching or something 😭 jokes aside i think he'd be a great cuddler and share his sweatshirts. unlike jean who would either deny it or brush it off, if connie hit/kicked you in his sleep he would feel so bad 😭 he would probably cry and beg for your forgiveness

levi: honestly the most normal person on this list when it comes to sleeping habits. if anything i think he'd just toss and turn a lot. unfortunately,, he does get night terrors/nightmares from his trauma so pls give him a hug and make him some tea ☕️

erwin: SNORES so much omg 😭 😭 it's actually insane and it's every night. like every. single. night. similar to levi he probably also gets night terrors so look out for him </3

zeke: sleeps on his back with his arms folded on his chest like one of those pharaoh corpses in the pyramids 😭 😭 and he does NOT cuddle. he *might* indulge in it every once in a while, but not to sleep. it's more of a comfort thing and more for your sake. like eren he also snores (it runs in the family ig) but not nearly as noticeably.

porco: chronic side sleeper (real) doesn't really snore but i can see him sleep talking a lot actually

grisha: (BASEMENT SPOILERS!!!) dreams of how he'll turn all his sons into titans then manipulate them into trusting him 🤍

[star-stilinski]

wow, you're so fucked.

stiles is standing next to you, a sweaty beacon of pride as he chats with scott and isaac excitedly, his lacrosse uniform still on and not making things any easier for you.

he had just played a game and won. something unusual for him, clear in the way he seems to glow a bit at the attention he's receiving. you can admit that he did better than his regular performances, which often included him sitting idly by on the bench. but you really don't need to deal with this. rambling, hyper focused stiles is one thing.

sweaty, cocky stiles is another.

he laughs at something danny says-oh, danny's here? you didn't even notice him approach, too distracted with the way stiles' hair sticks to his forehead. anyway, his laugh might make you swoon. jesus, are you ovulating? there's a wet patch forming in your panties and you know it. whore.

"oh, yes! we will so be there!" stiles slings an arm over your shoulder and grins at danny. you can smell his sweat, now, and unfortunately stiles' musk only makes you want to ride his dick even more.

"be where?" you blink, turning a curious gaze on stiles, who looks at you all confused and cute and his lips are so pink and his skin glistens with sweat and i bet the rest of him does, too-

"are you okay?" he hums, squeezing you against his side just slightly. you nod and turn to danny to avoid moaning at the sight of stiles' adams apple.

"sorry, i was zoned out."

danny looks like he's disappointed in you. because of-fucking-course danny māhealani can tell that you're this close to giving stiles a blowjob in front of the entire student body. just because he's sweaty and excited and prideful. you glare at danny, just to shut him up.

he talks anyway.

"some of us were gonna go grab food to celebrate, and i was just inviting you guys. unless you'll be... busy." danny drawls his last words with clear implication, but stiles is too busy being excited that he got invited to something by the "in" crowd to notice.

"and i told him we were going." stiles grins down at you, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. you avoid his eyes, tilting your head.

"i dunno..." you pick at your nails, and stiles is quick to stop you. a habit you both have and you're both trying to quit. "it's kinda late, and we have that essay-"

"oh, come on, don't tell me you're passing this up for homework." stiles tosses his head back dramatically and you hear danny snicker. you know if you look at danny again, you'll want to throttle him. but looking at stiles means looking at his moles and freckles, his jawline, his brow.

you swallow thickly.

"yeah, okay, shut up. i was gonna say yes." you fold so quick that stiles actually steps back from you in shock, and you avoid grabbing him by the jersey to keep his scent all over you.

danny smirks at you, nodding once. "see you guys there. try not to fog up the windows on the way."

stiles waves as danny leaves, and you're pretty confident he didn't even hear that last part because of how focused he is on being overdramatic about you saying yes to him so easily. his eyes are wide and his mouth is open when you turn to look at him, and he let's out a squeaky surprised noise.

"what-you always argue about this stuff! did you have some moment of discovery?!" he grabs both your shoulders and you fight a smile, shrugging him off. you can't just tell the boy, 'oh, it's a whole lot harder to say no to you when all i can think about is how far i would go to get you in my pants.'

right?

you settle for an easy half-truth. "just didn't wanna dampen your good mood. you're practically bouncing off the bleachers right now."

when you look back at stiles, he has that stupid crooked smile cocked all smartly at you. feeling bold, he gives your hip a light squeeze and hums, "atta girl."

yeah, you are so incredibly fucked.

[nonexistent-introvert]

Alternate Reminder

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Miguel has trouble trying to treat you fairly when you remind him too much of what he had lost. Angst, misunderstanding.

A/N: I havent truly proofread this so I'm sorry. This took super long.

Part 2

   Miguel thought you were special. He thought it was maybe the universe giving him a second chance when he saw you. His first love and his beautiful wife, standing in front of him while wearing a Spiderman suit. Maybe, he was destined to be with you, after all, a universe where you could understand him. A universe where he could finally be happy with you and Gabriella, a universe that he actually belonged to and he didn’t have to worry about destroying a whole universe just to be with you. 

   The only problem? This version of you had zero ideas of who Miguel O’Hara is. Miguel thought it was a canon event, for the both of you to fall in love. In most universes he had been to, you were with Miguel. In most, you were happy and had a family with him. In the more unfortunate universes, things didn’t work out between the two of you. The only thing that was unchanged was that Miguel and you were bound to find and fall in love with each other at one point. 

  However, Miguel hated your guts. His amor was sweet, responsible, and well-organized. You were the complete opposite of that. You were rude, irresponsible, and very messy as a person. He dared say that you were the messiest person he had ever met. There was no sign of organisation at your workstation. Papers were messily stacked on top of each other or swept across the desk. The mini shelf you had beside your desk was filled with books that were all falling to one side, some had completely collapsed. More files were squeezed on top of the books. Miguel’s greatest pet peeve was seeing the bent and folded pages being shoved into a file. The urge to help you reorganize was almost too big for him to handle causing the frustration to build up and was let out onto you instead. Miguel groaned as he met eye contact with you while he was buying his morning coffee. It was almost insulting to him how you had the same exact face as her, the woman he falls for in every universe. 

   On the opposite side of the same coin, you loathed Miguel O’Hara. He was bossy, pompous, and couldn’t take a single joke. Any conversation you have had with him ended up in the both of you arguing. Sarcasm was something everyone around you had gotten used to, except for Miguel of course who never seemed to catch on. He would simply give you a judgemental stare before giving a literal answer which you would roll your eyes at. At that point, Miguel would think that you’re being rude, and depending on his mood that day, he would either scold you or scoff at you. 

   “Just get over it, you’re always mad at Miguel anyways. I thought you would get used to it by now.” Gwen sighed, giving you the same response every time you ranted about Miguel. “It’s not like you don’t know the big guy,” Hobie said nonchalantly, having long gotten used to your rants about Miguel. “You hate him, we get it.” Pavitr groaned, complaining for the umpteenth time about how you always seemed to be talking about Miguel. Gwen chuckled, “If you didn’t point out every single flaw of his so heartlessly every time you rant about him, I would think you have a crush on Miguel  or something.” Gwen said. “Hell no. I’m not fucking blind.” you defended, offended she would even think this way. “You gotta admit, big boss is quite the looker, too bad he’s a prick.” Hobie pointed out. “Speak of the devil,” Pavitr warned, straightening up as he stared at Miguel who was walking to your table’s direction. 

    You merely glared in his direction. Gwen was right, you should be used to him by now. He shouldn’t be getting under your skin so easily. So why can’t you just ignore him? Why does your mind always drift to him when you’re alone, why do you realise when he was due for a haircut? How his hair curls at the end when he lets his hair grow, how he reaches 10 minutes early to any appointment, and how he would get his coffee at exactly 9am in the morning. You shook your head, riding yourself off those thoughts. There was no way you actually had some sort of attraction to him right? Your mind drifted to the fight you had with him 5 days ago, his words still causing a dull ache in your heart. The both of you always fought but you were sure Miguel was going to kick you off the team until he called your friends the next day and gave you a mission through them while also completely disregarding your presence if he saw you around after. 

===================

   “Mind your own business!” Miguel exclaimed, you flinched at his harsh tone. “I was just-” “Who said you could touch my property?” Anger was practically the only emotion in his voice as he pushed you to the side. “Lyla told me you were having some troubles, that your screens had some kind of issue-” You gritted out, closing your eyes to calm yourself too. You only had good intentions to fix the issues he was fixing and now you were being accused of invading his privacy. You couldn't even remember any of the files that appeared on the screen while you were fixing his terrible code. Too focused on solving the technical errors to be poking your nose into his business. “I don’t need your help,” He seethed. “She was going to help you, Miguel. You have been complaining about it and even I can’t help you, you very well know she’s the only one equipped with the knowledge to fix this.” Lyla defended you. The fury in Miguel’s eyes scared you as well, “You need to mind your own business as well.” He snarled to Lyla before turning to you, switching off the orange screens completely. “I would rather let everything burn to hell than trust you to fix anything. You’re a fucking mess if you didn’t realize. ” Miguel spat. 

  It was your last straw. You had more self-respect than let anyone speak to you like that. “Kick me off, fucking kick me off already. You hate me anyways, right? So why do you bother keeping me around?” 

   “Get out!” Miguel bellowed and you didn’t need him to repeat himself. You took off the watch on your wrist and threw it to the floor, letting it break into pieces. In that moment, his words hurt you more than glitching ever would. 

 ============ 

   Peter found you at a bar in your universe that day. You downed another glass of whiskey at the sight of Peter, you were in too bad of a mood to talk to anyone now and you know you would regret it if you lashed out at him.

  Peter didn’t say anything, simply sitting beside you and staring as you downed one glass after another. 

 Peter ordered a drink, taking sips of his drink as he decided on the best approach to talk to you. Your anger was practically radiating off you, making everyone else stir clear of you. 

   “He’s all bark no bite.” Peter started. You scoffed lightly, letting the silence fall between the both of you. You turned to peter, feeling bad for putting him in an uncomfortable situation. “You heard already huh.” Peter simply shrugged, “Word travels fast. Practically the whole society knows.” You downed another glass at that, you wondered how much the story had changed as it was passed from one person to another. It was probably a field day at headquarters. 

   “There is barely anyone at headquarters, Miguel has been bringing hell to anyone he even makes eye contact with,” Peter answered as though he could read your thoughts. You had to bite back your words, to tell Peter that you really couldn’t care less about Miguel now nor did you need the company. Silence fell between the both of you, Peter lightly bobs his head to the music that was playing in the bar to relieve the tension that was building up. He was never one for tense situations. “You know, you’re not really that different from Miguel.” Peter immediately put his hands up in defense when you practically growled at his comment. “Well, it’s just that both of you would rather die than talk about your emotions. Thankfully, I managed to crack Miguel so I think I can do it for you too.” Peter confidently stated. You remained silent, swirling the whiskey in your hand. You didn’t trust yourself to not lash out at Peter, especially when he’s practically comparing you to Miguel. The man you hated in all of the multiverse 

  “Hm, silence. Miguel screamed at me when we reached this point.” Peter observed, laughing nervously at the memory of his talk with Miguel. “I guess I’ll just go on first then.” Peter wrung his hands nervously. “I’m sure Miguel didn’t mean anything. You just hit a sore spot.” You scoffed again, “What? By trying to fix his stupid system?” 

Peter took another swig, he definitely needed the alcohol. “Do you not know about what is on those screens? One that probably popped up while you were fixing it.” “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t snooping on him. I was focused on the system itself.” You defended. Peter cringed ever so slightly at your response. “There is this girl on the screen, the one with a happier, better-looking Miguel.” Peter took another swig, this really wasn’t his story to tell. You pursed your lips, you did remember seeing the footage that Peter mentioned. You had to force yourself to look away, that you were invading his privacy. 

   “That’s his daughter.” Peter finished, trying to gauge your reaction. You simply preserved a blank look and Peter groaned slightly, he detested how stubborn you were. “Miguel found a universe where he had a family and was happy, but him in that universe had an accident so he replaced himself. Some butterfly effect happened and the whole universe collapsed on itself and he lost everything.” Peter explained. You finished your drink, everyone has lost someone. You understood why it was a sore spot but it doesn’t justify being a total asshole. 

“Miguel didn’t mean anything he said to you. It was just- tough.” Peter finished. “I didn’t even do shit Peter, just decided to fix his system and he accused me of invading his fucking privacy. It’s not like he’s the only one who lost someone. We all did.” Peter shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “He just fucking hates my guts and I don’t know why? He literally told most people about my past when he explains about anomalies so why is he so mad when I know about it?” 

    “Because you have the same name and face as his wife, the woman who he falls for in every universe.” Your jaw dropped at the information. You couldn’t ever fathom the thought of you and Miguel even being in love. The anger in you simmered ever so slightly. It would explain how his features softened when he sees you sometimes, the vulnerable look in his eyes when he stares at you for too long. A stranger with memories, that is what you are to Miguel. Miguel tries his best to treat you like others. It was exceptionally tough when you shared the same name and face as the woman he had spent his happiest moments with. “He never told me,” you told Peter. Peter shook his head, “No one was allowed to tell you. Not like many people knew anyways. He didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary trouble. You know how he is, he doesn’t like it when people try to share his burdens.” You pursed your lips, cursing out your alcohol tolerance. It was times like this you wished you could just forget everything. “It doesn’t matter. Miguel probably wants me out of his life.” Peter threw his hands up frustratedly. “If he wants you out he wouldn’t send me here to tell you about everything.” Peter admitted. Peter was worried when he heard the news of you and Miguel having a fight which is what brought him to talk to Miguel. Peter wouldn’t be able to find you by himself, only Miguel could. You closed your eyes, you had enough of everyone. You were so exhausted, everything has been so draining. 

      “Just leave me alone alright?” You said, stumbling out of your seat slightly before leaving the bar and Peter behind. 

======================================

   “The anomaly was caught. We ensured there were no loose ends. Everything should be fine.” You reported to Miguel. Your hands were behind your back, there was a blank look on your face. Miguel bit his lip slightly at your cold demeanor toward him. He used to complain about you taking things too lightly. When you would stroll into his office with a grin, confidently telling him all the details of the mission even if it was insignificant. Now, you told him the bare minimum with a professional tone and stand. 

    Miguel used to complain and bluntly tell you that he didn't care for some of the details you told him after. Details like you and Gwen dropped by a Mcdonald's to grab some fries or that you also managed to finish a recent show. Now he wishes you would tell him, instead of you acting like this., all quiet and serious.   Miguel took a deep breath, staring at you as the platform descended. He looked away slightly, knowing things were still tense between the two of you. “Sorry about that the other day. I was not in the right place.” He apologised, forcing himself to meet your eye. Your expression was still blank, “It’s fine.” You brushed it off like you hadn’t been thinking about it ever since. “If that’s everything, I’ll take my leave now.” You told him, bowing slightly as you turned. Miguel flinched at the tone. “Wait.” He wanted to stop you from leaving. Then his head turned to the orange screens behind him that glitched every so often. “Would you-” Miguel hesitated, thinking if this was the best move.”

   “I- can you help me fix the screens?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “I promise I won’t lash out at you.” Miguel weakly joked. You simply nodded, stepping up onto his platform. Miguel stared at you, you were so unlike yourself. There were no teasing comments, no laughter, not even a hint of a smile. You stood in front of his screens, diligently and skillfully opening and typing away a new code. Miguel shifted and fidgeted behind you, he was wrecking his mind for a conversation topic. You were the one who usually initiated or continued the conversations. His mind replaying all the conversations he had with you. A smile tugged on his lips, music was your common ground with him. He remembered how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your favorite songs. 

   “I recently got into classical music.” Miguel shared. Miguel was half-convinced that he wouldn’t get a reply when you let his words hang in the air while you focused on the task at hand. “Oh? Mahler?’ You finally replied. His eyes widened. “How did you know?” He was greeted with silence again and only then did he appreciate how quick your responses used to be. “I just want to know, because you seemed really confident about it. Did I tell you?” Miguel filled the silence himself. “I just saw it.” You gestured to the screens. He nodded, letting the tense silence take over again. You were never so quiet, he never had to deal with this uncomfortable silence when he was with you. 

    “You changed.” Miguel blurted out. There was no response from you as you continued working on the screens. You didn’t know how to respond either. The news about you being an alternate version of his wife, it was rather overwhelming. You used to spite him and annoy him just for the fun of it, but after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it anymore.  His gaze made you self-conscious now, of what he thought of you, and nor did you want a repeat of what happened that day. You did a lot of thinking the past few days and you had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate Miguel O’Hara. You couldn’t hate him. The thought of him hating you, it was terrifying. 

     “What?” You muttered, Miguel barely caught onto your response. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down. “Look, I’m really sorry for that day and I know I can’t take back anything but I really hope you don’t distance yourself from me because of that.” Miguel swallowed, it was publicly known that the both of you never seemed to get along but the thought of you becoming cold to him made him shiver to his core. “You’re overthinking things.” You stated plainly, forcing out a laugh. Miguel sighed, “You just seem, very different. Let’s not even talk about our interactions. You have just been more distant with everyone, you’re taking things way too seriously and well, you’re a lot more well organised now. The biggest shame was losing the constant smile, boosted many of their morale even in the most difficult of times.” you swallowed bitterly, debating internally if you should snap at Miguel right now while you stared at the screens before you. “I had to work on not being a mess right?” You answered, quoting his exact words. Miguel’s eyes flashed with a hint of pain and you knew it was a low blow. He had already apologised, you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. But those words haunted you even till now. 

    “You really changed huh?” Miguel continued. He didn’t expect you to use his words against him. When you know that he regrets it, it was a low move even for you. “It’s done.” You announced, ignoring his comment towards you. Your patience was thinning again. He merely glanced towards the screens before looking at you again. “You’re not the person I knew,” Miguel stated plainly. You turned your head to him. 

   “I’m not the woman you had in mind, Miguel! I’m not your fucking wife and I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You looked away, running your hands through your hair in distress. “I never was. I’m sorry I remind you of her but I’m not her.” You snapped at him. Walking out of his office.   Everything made sense now. Miguel would be annoyed and frustrated with you most times, but there were times that he acted differently towards you. The times when he had carried you to a more comfortable place when you had fallen asleep on your table, the jackets that he had given to you to keep you warm still hung in your closet. The late-night conversations where he was more vulnerable towards you and had conversations with you about your interests while you hung from the ceiling, claiming that it helped you stay awake while you sift through the paperwork with him. You found it weird how he could hate your guts one second but be even sweet to you when it was just the two of you. At one point, you even thought you had fallen for Miguel O’Hara. 

   You shook your head, ignoring Miguel behind you as you rid the thought of even entertaining a possibility with Miguel. He never treated you as you are, he never liked you for who you are. 

  You simply shared a face and name with the woman he was destined to fall for. 

   You chuckle at how foolish you were while you stepped on the watch that Peter had given to you as replacement for your old one. 

   “I fucking quit.” You announced to a surveillance camera in the hallway, knowing fully well that he is monitoring the camera for your whereabouts now. 

Miguel angrily swept the files off his table, growling out in frustration. He buried his face in his hands, he never saw you as the woman who he had fallen for and had Gabriella with. Sure, there were a few times your identical looks made his heart pace with what could have been. However, Miguel had started spending more time with you and getting to know you as a person. In those times, he reckoned he enjoyed it too much.

There was no way he was falling for you right?

Was there a point even if he did? You had already left him.

Miguel O'Hara always messes up his own happiness. That seems more like his canon event than falling in love with you.

[junislqve]

lip gloss ✶ jake

𝓢. jake hated you, you hated jake. but that was until a small slip up had you entirely change your perceptions of each other.

pairs tutor!jake x tutee!reader content making out skinship fluff nerd jake not proofread wordcount 463 CATALOGUE

i put down the file a few times writing this.. anywho!! this is the entry for @bywons 1k event hiyaa i love my srunums >< based off strawberries & cigarettes

REBLOG if you enjoyed!

Jake couldn’t sleep.

he’s spent hours tossing and turning on his bed trying to catch his sleep. unfortunately, the universe wasn’t on his side.

everytime he’d try to close his eyes it would bring him back to- he shot his eyes open. sitting up on his bed and ran a hand through his face in frustration.

jake had a problem. and you were exactly at the center of it.

“do you know how dumb you look like right now?” he can practically hear your voice mirroring from an hour ago.

jake groaned, “can’t you go a day without pissing me off?”

“okay and whose the freak that likes maths here”

that seemed to silence jake, his blood was boiling. it’s only been a week into tutoring you and he was so close to giving up.

“if you want to keep failing maths then so be it, it’s not like i’m doing this out of free will anyway”

“whatever, im leaving”

the universe was also, apparently not on your side back then. because as you were about to get up you tripped over a small box tucked underneath jake’s study table.

and the person you brought down with? jake. you both hadn’t realized it until your folded knees rest on top of jake’s lap. or did you realize when you felt jake’s hands firmly gripping your waist?

“can you let go of me?”

“you pulled me down first” he said, softly? calmly? you didn’t know but it sounded weird.

“it’s not my fault you have an unused box under your table. why did you even have one anyway? now can you let go of me this would look weird if any-“

even your own train of thought cut off. jake’s lips were on yours. and damn were his lips soft. his hand came up to your neck and the other to your hair as yours stay limp in shock.

you felt weak under his touch, especially when he was kissing you so passionately. his sweet smell of vanilla filled your senses and seeped comfortably through your body.

jake on the other hand was fighting his demons, your lips tasted like strawberries and cigarettes all fused into the sweetest taste. like a drug, a drug he’d want to consume all the time.

he didn’t know why it took him so long, but he’s regretted every moment he’s argued with you when it could’ve been used for moments like this.

you both only broke apart when it was getting hard to breath and both your cheeks were flushed.

with your lip gloss all smeared on his lips, and the lingering taste of it that would soon plague his mind, jake didn’t think he’d ever let you skip any more tutoring sessions.

“ready for the next topic then?” 

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[wileys-russo]

alexia putellas ,,you cheated" Game night with the putellas family

dirty cheat II a.putellas

if there was one thing nobody could deny about your fiance, was that she was competitive, about almost everything.

even in every day domestic life with the two of you she found things to compete over though most of the time you'd not engage and she was just competing against herself.

who could brush their teeth the fastest, who could fold the laundry first, who could wash their plate up faster, who made the bed quicker, if there was a task that needed to be done alexia found a way to make a competition of it.

which is why the fortnightly game nights with her family were all the more amusing, for you anyway.

"mi hija's! bienvenido, pase pase." eli hugged you both as alexia kissed her mami's cheek, the shorter woman ushering you inside where you could already hear the sounds of the rest of her family in the other room.

"ready to win again princesa?" alexia murmered with a wink, drawing you into her side and kissing your temple as you only chuckled with a playful roll of your eyes.

"she sure is hermana, but with a better partner!" alba grinned, tugging you into a tight hug and sticking her tongue out at her older sister who looked on unamused as alba's arm remained slung around your shoulder.

"like she would choose you over me alba, realmente!" alexia scoffed, shoving her sisters head to the side and making her way into the living room, cheers of greeting ringing out as she did so.

"so, partners sí?" alba grinned at you as you raised an eyebrow at the twinkle in her eyes. "what are you up to al?" you asked suspiciously as she feigned offence, hand smacking against her chest.

"me? nothing! just want to spend time with mi cuñada." alba smiled innocently as you only hummed, allowing her to drag you into the living room as you made your rounds greeting the rest of the family, tugged down onto the lounge beside your fiance once you had.

"hey! she needs to sit with her partner, right chica?" alba smirked patting the space next to you as alexia rolled her eyes, but her mouth formed an o of shock as you stood.

"amor!" the blonde huffed in offence with wide eyes as you sent her an apologetic smile and sat down next to alba, alexia's eyes narrowing into a filthy glare directed at her younger sister who just stuck her tongue out again.

your fiance pairing up with one of her cousins instead you didn't miss the way alexia's eyes strayed to you nearly every thirty seconds, a slight pout on her lips as you smiled and focused on the game.

as the night grew later and everyone had eaten dinner the games became a little more intense, and unfortunately for alexia so did her losing streak.

"me estás jodiendo!" the taller girl swore angrily as once again she lost, slamming down her fistful of cards on the table with a scowl as eli warned her about her language, some of the family having headed home the group was smaller now.

"see? i told you, better partner." alba whispered to you as the pair of you came in second, though you gave her a curious look at the wolfish grin on her face, rapidly realizing there was something going on here as most of the group also sported the same look at alexia's reaction.

your suspicions only peaked as yet again alexia lost the next round, and given it was the game she was normally best at your fiance did not take it well.

"puta mierda esto es una puta broma!" the footballer stood to her feet, throwing her hands around and seething as you stood to try and calm her but alba pulled you back down with a shake of her head.

"alexia! take five." eli ordered, the blonde stomping out of the room with her arms crossed and you winced at the sound of the bathroom door slamming and her mami hurried after her with a huff.

"what did you do alba?" you murmured quietly as things began to be set up for the last game of the night, the smirk unable to be wiped from the younger girls face.

"nothing!" she sung out happily as you gave her a look and she chuckled. "i maybe just made sure the odds for everything was a little more in our favour and a lot less in alexia's." alba confessed as you sighed but smiled, knowing that if anyone knew how to push alexia's buttons it was her sister.

"she's going to kill you." you patted her shoulder as the girl in question returned, eli warning alexia again to keep a lid on her temper as she sat back down stone faced glaring at everyone.

"only if she finds out." alba whispered with a wink before standing to start the last game, everyone pairing off as this one was charades.

you couldn't deny that you and alba drew the long straw, your words picked were easy and you ended up scoring eleven in the time frame, alba squeezing you tightly and lifting you off your feet as you laughed and alexia cleared her throat.

"alba." her sister warned raising an eyebrow, the younger girl putting you back down on your feet with a roll of her eyes, the pair of you sitting back down as alexia and her cousin stood to take their turn.

you watched on as alexia acted out the cards, frowning each time her cousin guessed wrong and her frustrations began to show as her temper grew shorter and shorter.

"ehh football?" "no!" "skateboard?" "no!" "carrot?" "qué? no idiota!"

"times up! and you two got....three right." alba read out trying to hold back her laughter, alexia clenching her fists and exhaling shakily from her nose, her cousin sending alba a wink which was not subtle as the older girl caught it right away.

"puta de mierda!" alexia swore with a scoff, eli warning her again as her daughter waved it off. "you cheated. you all cheated!" alexia began to put things together, staring in disbelief at the grinning faces around the room.

"nooo, we would never hermana." alba cooed condescendingly and that seemed to be the final nail in the coffin as her sister lunged at her, you barely having time to dive out of the way as alexia landed on top of the younger girl.

"alexia!" you groaned with a shake of your head at your fiance as both girls fell off the lounge rolling around smacking and swearing at one another.

unfazed the rest of her family all stood and said their goodbyes, just stepping over the girls as they left until eventually it was just you, eli and a couple of their tia's helping to wash everything up.

"hey! you two." you yelled over their squabble, both girls pausing to look at you. "you, up! we're leaving amor, now." you pointed menacingly at your fiance who pushed alba away and scrambled to her feet, ignoring her sisters teasings.

saying your goodbyes to those left you pulled alexia away before she could take a swing at alba who continued to mock and pull faces, the front door closing behind you as you let go of her and marched off to the car.

"princesa!" alexia groaned hurrying after you, unlocking the car and trying to open your door for you as you quickly did it yourself and pulled it shut with a slam that had her wincing.

as she slid into her own side you faced forward, ignoring the way her eyes bore into the side of your head. "start the car alexia, i want to go home." you warned still refusing to look at her.

"bebita, come on!" alexia pleaded, poking and prodding at you as you squirmed and smacked her hands away. "mi amor, you know i am competitive!" your fiance defended, shrinking under the glare you gave her for the words.

"sí, and look at where it has gotten you. the butt of your families joke because your temper is so childish you cannot lose a card game without throwing a tantrum!" you scoffed as alexia huffed.

"i didn't throw a tantrum." your fiance mumbled with a scowl as you raised an eyebrow. "fine! maybe i am a little bit too competitive." she sighed as you rolled your eyes.

"just drive us home ale, i'm tired." you shook your head as the girl started up the car and you couldn't help but let a small smile grace your features as she leaned over to press kiss after kiss to your cheek mumbling an apology.

"vale putellas! drive,and then you can make it up to me when we get home."

[writa-anon]

"is that.. supposed to be me?"

francis mosses (the milkman) x artist!reader

a / n ~ boom! first fanfic :3 i was a little inspired by uh.. myself LOL when i started playing tnmn i realized i was horrible at memorizing faces so i started drawing the characters to help me remember and it works sooo much. but anyway, super cute oneshot where they first meet, hope u enjoy :D

content included ~ isaack mauss, francis mosses, reader is an artist and doorman, no pronouns mentioned for reader, use of (y/n), shy n wholesome first encounter

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 4.10.24 | 1.6k words

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Another slow day at work, huh?”

A enthusiatic-ridden voice boomed, instinctively making me look up to meet the gaze of a strong-jawlined man. I cleared my throat and placed my pencil on the scratchy sheet of paper, sitting up in my chair.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gauss.” I greeted, grinning that customer-service smile.

“Good afternoon, (y/n). I assume work is treating you well?” He said before sliding both his ID and request form through the letter hole. “Only your third day and you’re occupying yourself with side hobbies!” He exclaimed, squinting a little to see my doodle through the glass screen. I chuckled a little as I examined his ID.

“Eh, yeah..” I sighed. “But this actually helps with my job, believe it or not!” I said proudly, pulling out the floor 2 folder to compare his ID number. “I’ve been drawing neighbors in order to remember their features better. It’s especially helpful because of my terrible memory.” I said, shaking my head. Isaack simply chuckled as I placed the folder to the side as I went through his request form.

“That’s pretty smart.” He commented. “Who have you drawn so far?” He asked, curiously tilting his head. As I went through the checklist as I idly thought to myself.

“Umm..” I hummed. “The Schmitts and the Mikaelys are definitely in here.” I finished up the last check before rolling back to my sketchbook, using my finger to thumb through the pages.

“Unfortunate. I haven’t been drawn yet.” He faked pouted. I rolled my eyes before flipping one or two pages before presenting the portrait to him.

“I’m not necessarily finish. Your face is pretty hard to encapture.” I sighed, looking at the smears of led blended together. Isaack was something of a character: a big prominent smile that is not hard to catch a glimpse of in a room full of people. His hair perfectly styled each morning that still manages to maintain its shape by the end of the day. His voice had depth to it, almost like he was born to be the daily news reporter for radios and TVs of all kind. He stared at the drawing in satisfied awe before leaning back.

“Wow, it surely is accurate!” He beamed. I smiled proudly before placing my sketchbook down.

“Thank you,” I politely nodded. I slid his ID back through the letter box. “Everything seems to be good to go. You’re allowed in, Mr. Gauss.” He nodded in his head in gratitude, but however, did not my window just yet. He took a minute to ponder, as if contemplating his next move, before beaming his teeth once again.

“Ah, before I go,” he quickly inputed. “is there by chance Francis Mosses is on today’s list? He’s the local milkman around here.”

I raised my eyebrow a little, not exactly sure as to why Isaack chose to bring up this person’s name. I shook my head gently before folding my arms in front of me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gauss, but I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information for you.”

“—Ah, of course.” Isaack quickly fixed himself, putting his hands up a little in defense. “I understand. I was just curious is all. I’m sure you know him though, no?” Thinking for a minute, I’ve realized that this is a neighbor I have not encountered yet.

“No, actually..” I pondered out loud. “Huh, that’s interesting. I guess he works a morning or night shift because the name doesn’t really ring a bell.” I noted out loud.

“Interesting.” He muttered. “Well, keep the name in mind. He’s a rather interesting person, and I think you would find him just as interesting.” Before I could say anything else, he gestured a quick wink before walking through the unlocked door. I quickly snapped out my thoughts before locking the door back up again.

Isaack never really mentioned other names— it wasn’t necessarily out of character, but it felt a little outlandish. I looked down to see my pencil in hand again and blank surface of paper. My eyes trailed over to the paper taped on to the wall next to my window, realizing that Frances was in fact on today’s check-in list. Out of curiousity, I located his room number before surfing through the folders. After locating folder 3 and apartment 02, I was able to find more about him.

He was a slim, tall man with a crooked nose and ruffled brown hair. His eye bags were prominent from what I assume to be lack of sleep. As I stared at his picture, my hand moved by itself across my sketchbook, forming a circle to start defining out the headshape. I squinted slightly, trying to feel for each detail in his face. From the way his eyebrows were rotated a little outward, defining more of his tired expression, to the bump in his nose bridge, making it a bit more interesting to draw. It was mesmerizing, almost wishing I could sit here and draw his face in perso—

tap, tap!

I nearly jumped out of my seat. The pencil flung out of my hand, rolling off of the desk. My eyes flickered up—

and there he was.

My breath near caught in my throat as I stared up in shock. The man behind the glass was barely shocked to see my reaction. His white “milkman” hat rested perfectly on top of his brown hair with small curls slightly peaking out. I was swift to regain my composure in my head as I folded my hands in front of me with my legs crossed under the desk.

“Good afternoon, sir.” I smiled. “I haven’t seen you before. ID and entry request?”

He let out a small hum, barricaded by his pink lips, as he took out his paper and ID. He politely slid them through the letter slot before I took the items to examine.

“Mr. Francis Mosses.. Lives on floor 03.. Room 02.. Coming from work as a milkman.” I glanced up to look at him, comparing the photo ID to his face. His expression was exactly alike: tired eyes, slight frown on the lips, crooked nose, and a clean shaven face. I double checked with his file already on my desk, making sure that the ID numbers and the description aligned with his ID. “Everything looks good.” I confirmed as I slid his ID back to him.

“Mmm.. Thank you.” He hummed. I turned around to place his request form in a folder, but once I sat back up, I realized he was still standing at the window, curiously staring through the glass. I raised my eyebrow a little, confused as to why he was still lingering.

“I’m sorry, did I forget something?” I asked. Francis shook his head before pointing down at my desk.

“Is that.. Supposed to be me?” He asked. A tiny bit of emotion seeped into his voice, dripping in interest and curiousity.

“I— oh—” I looked down to see the rough drawing of Francis sitting at my desk, drawn with sketch lines still lightly defining his features, while the harder drawn areas sculpted his prominent details. “Yeah..” I mumbled. “I-I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable!” I exclaimed. “It’s just a way to help me remember faces and I was going through the files and I realized I haven’t met you before so I—”

“You make me look so pretty.” He mumbled, almost breathlessly. A faint pink color brushed his cheeks as he was unable to take his gaze away from the paper.

“W-Well.. I do aim for accuracy.” I chuckled, complimenting the man right back. My nerves had calmed down after noticing his calm demeanor. “You could keep it, if you’d like that is.” I offered. It would be awkward if I kept the drawing rather than give it to him— I mean— this is his first time ever seeing me and it was an awkward first interaction right off the bat. It was the least I could do for him. Francis nodded his head and in response, I tore the piece of paper out of the scrapbook before sliding it through the letter slot.

“There you go.” I smiled.

“Thank you..” He replied, graciously taking the piece of paper and admiring it once again. “Oh— um,” He quickly looked up to me. “What is your name? I’m sorry, I’m not really good with.. Introductions.” He trailed off, but something about his shyness and reluctant voice made me grin even harder.

“My name is (y/n). I’m the doorman in training for this building.” I greeted.

“Ah, of course. I’m Francis— Mmm..Though you already know that.” He said, shaking his head a little by the end of his sentence.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Francis. I’ll be seeing you around, I assume?” I said, sitting at the edge of my chair as I looked up at him.

“More often than before.” He smiled. It was the widest he’d grin throughout our whole conversation. Something inside me told me that he doesn’t pass around smiles like that easily. It made me feel accomplished in some sort of way. But with that, he departed from my window. I made sure to unlock the door and listen for the door closing behind him before locking it again.

Francis Mosses.

I think I have someone to look forward to on tomorrow’s entry list.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

really hoped you enjoyed! replies, reblogs, and even likes are super appreciated! thank you so much for reading :]

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Angst with a happy ending, older Eddie, reader acting like a brat. Arguments then fluff. 18+, mdni.

🎀✨💞

Sex. Just sex. That's all you were to Eddie. Knowing it and accepting it was hard for you. So much so that you were in one hell of a mood.

And acting like a major brat. At first Eddie took it in his stride, maybe you were getting sick or you didn't sleep that good.

He usually had endless patience when it came to you. You had him wrapped around your little finger yet you didn't even know it. Not that Eddie would admit it but it was true.

Despite that your attitude was beginning to grate on him and he had enough.

Eddie loses patience. "What the fuck is wrong with you today? why are you so bitchy?" He's put up with your sullenness and attitude all day and he's tired of it.

"I'm fine" you snap, there's no way you could tell him what was really wrong. That you were completely in love with him and he only saw you as a fuck buddy.

Then that would be the end of your relationship and you didn't want it to end. You had grown attached to Eddie so quickly, you'd be heartbroken if your relationship ended.

"Obviously you're not fine if you've been in a mood all day. What the hell is wrong? Clearly I spoil you too fucking much because you're acting like a spoiled brat" tears pool in your eyes and you will them away.

"So now I'm just an annoyance to you?" You question him and he shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air.

"I give up. You're twisting my words" you look away feeling your heart sink at his words. Maybe you should just tell him? Rip off the band aid or so to speak.

Unfortunately your mouth runs away with you before you can think about it. "You're the one who called me a brat" he rolls his eyes, folds his arms across his chest and gives you a dark look.

"Because you are! From the moment you woke up to now, all I've had is you bitching in my ear even when I asked you what is wrong, you don't answer"

Anxiety claws in your veins and you don't know what to say to salvage the situation. You shouldn't have been so moody, you know that but the argument had pretty much spiralled out of control.

"Well why don't I just leave then if I'm annoying you so much?" you snap and gather your clothes. He shrugs and his body language turns cold, colder then you've ever seen.

"Maybe you should" the tears flow freely at his tone and you kick yourself as you rush downstairs. You may have just ruined everything.

You were so scared that admitting your feelings to Eddie would mean you would lose him, and it was killing you keeping your feelings a secret.

Turns out that maybe you had just lost him anyway.

...

After the argument with Eddie you feel even worse and plan to cuddle in bed and shut off from the world just for a little bit.

Eddie had other plans. It isn't long before he's at your house, quietly letting himself in and making his way upstairs. He hated seeing you cry, it was like a punch to the gut and he was anxious to make it up to you.

He was also very keen to get to the root of the problem and why you were acting out so much today. Something was bothering you for you to act this way. He wanted to find out what it was.

Your quiet sobs reach him and it tears at his heart as he enters your room and finds you curled up on the bed. Hiding away.

Tenderly Eddie stokes your hair and you turn to face him. He wipes your tears away and sighs.

"You didn't have to come over so late. I know you're working early tomorrow" you murmur and he softens as he lays beside you.

"I'm my own boss. I make my own start time sweetheart. I had to see you. Couldn't sleep without my princess beside me could I?" He settles beside you and you smile.

"I'm sorry, I was bitchy. I didn't mean to be" he kisses your hair and nods accepting the apology.

"I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have yelled at you or called you a brat. Please tell me what's wrong? You're obviously anxious about something" you bite your lip and he waits for you to say.

"I'm scared" you whisper to him and he feels heartbroken at this. He never wants you to feel scared or that you can't talk to him, you can talk to him about anything.

"Princess, you can tell me anything. You never have to be scared of telling me anything" he holds you close and feels you relax. You still hide your face in his shoulder as you work up the courage to talk to him.

"I'm in love with you, I know you don't feel the same way but I just wanted you to know. It's killing me not saying anything"

Eddie is stunned. This is what got you so worked up, that you were in love with him? Did you think he'd reject you?

Jesus h Christ, did you not realise that he was so in love with you too? He'd never felt this way about anyone. It scared him how deep his feelings were but he has been planning to tell you for ages.

He just wanted it to be the right time and be romantic. Turns out he had waited too long and you were thinking he didn't love you.

That wouldn't do at all.

"I'm so in love with you. How can you not see that?" Eddie caresses your cheek and you feel all of your fears slip away. You snuggle into him and peer up with pure joy on your face.

"I love you too Eddie"

All of this angst and shit could have been avoided if you had both just spoken up sooner. Both of you make a vow that night to always communicate your feelings.

But first a lot of making up was required ;)