#anyways i just needed to air some thought

[solarhysm]

"what’s your name again?" | JEON JUNGKOOK [FOLLOWERS POLL’s CHOICE]

one shot

> summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.

> pairing: jungkook x reader

> genre: small smut, one shot (shorter than i thought tho)

> warnings: smut, protected sex!!, public quickie in the female restroom (i'm not good with warning)

> word count: 2.8k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

Jungkook never likes masked parties. But when Hoseok suggests going to one where everyone is in costumes, he reluctantly agrees. He has nothing better to do for New Year’s Eve anyway, and it seems better than drinking alone in his apartment. He sighs as someone bumps into him—that’s why he avoids crowded places.

Everyone wears costumes as if it’s Halloween. He’s not surprised to see most of the women in tight, short dresses. Jungkook considered dressing as a character from Squid Game but decided against it—there are already too many of them here.

Instead, he throws on his old Spider-Man costume from Halloween three years ago. It’s been gathering dust in his closet, but it saves him time and money. To account for the cold, he adds gray joggers and an old black sweatshirt. Tonight, he’s not Peter Parker but Miles Morales. He doubts anyone will notice the reference, though.

“Damn, I didn’t expect it to be this crowded,” Jimin says, handing beers to his friends.

Jungkook glances around and nods. It’s New Year’s Eve, so of course, people their age are out celebrating.

“It’s been a shitty year,” Taehyung groans, downing his beer in one gulp before heading to the bar for something stronger. His girlfriend dumped him last month, and he’s still obsessively checking her Instagram, where she flaunts her new boyfriend.

Jungkook shakes his head, amused. It was a rough year. His grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, none of his romantic flings went anywhere, and the company he worked for went bankrupt. Now, he’s living with his parents –again- and working a terrible job under an abusive boss. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re still standing,” Hoseok says, ever the optimist.

As the night goes on, the four friends drink steadily in their corner of the nightclub. Taehyung ends up crying on Hoseok’s shoulder, while Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Taehyung whines. “I’m a good boyfriend! I used to bring her flowers all the time and give her all the attention she wants.”

“She’s a bitch. You’re a good guy,” Jungkook says, leaning closer so Taehyung can hear him over the music. “Stop wasting your tears on someone like her.”

“Maybe I’m bad in bed?”

“Stop it,” Jimin groans, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. “With your third leg, it’s definitely not about sex. Some women are just terrible people. Go find someone new tonight.”

“What?” Taehyung sniffles, while Jungkook silently gestures for Jimin to stop talking.

“Yeah, Tae,” Hoseok chimes in. “Find a girl, have some fun, and forget about her.”

Jungkook buries his face in his hands. Taehyung is too drunk for this advice. He’s not a one-night-stand type of guy and will probably end up vomiting on whoever he approaches.

“I need a smoke,” Jungkook mutters, getting up and wiping his hands on his joggers. He weaves through the crowd toward the exit, hating how packed the nightclub is.

“I’m sorry!” a voice gasps as their bodies collide. Jungkook instinctively grabs the stranger’s arm to steady them. Both of them are clearly tipsy, but they look more unsteady than he does.

His gaze falls on the person in front of him—his very own Gwen Stacy. The mask hides all of their face, but the costume piques his interest immediately.

“It’s my fault,” You begin. “I didn’t—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him. “Oh, Miles Morales!” You giggle, recognizing his costume. And your laugh makes him smile.

“Hi, Gwen,” Jungkook smirks, the alcohol making him bolder.

“Hi,” you reply as you both step outside into the chilly air. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling crowd inside. Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

“I like your costume,” he says, noticing you scanning the crowd inside, probably looking for your friends.

You remove your mask and smile. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be this attractive—especially the kind of attractive he’s drawn to.

“Thanks. I like yours, even if it’s a little inaccurate,” you tease, making him chuckle.

You pull out your own cigarette, accepting his lighter with a nod of thanks.

“It’s too cold to be Spider-Man.”

“Well, not Tom Holland’s Spider-Man,” you quip, freeing your hair from the costume.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on you briefly before smirking. “Marvel fan?” he asks.

“Hm, you?”

“Hm.”

You’re pretty and a Marvel fan? Jungkook looks up at the dark sky, silently thanking the universe for this coincidence. Before he can come up with something to say, you speak again.

“I almost dressed as Wednesday Addams, but it’s way too cold for that,” you explain, and he nods.

“Wednesday was my first choice, too,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.

“I’m Y/N,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he replies.

“Did you come alone, Spiderman?” you ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“I came with some friends.”

“Yeah, me too. It was either this or sleeping early. I figured it’d be more fun to get drunk,” you say, tossing the bud of your cigarette. Jungkook licks his lips with a smile. He guesses you’re a yapper, which is a good thing because he’s not drunk enough to talk freely without embarrassment. “Do you drink tequila shots, Spiderman?”

“Are you offering?” he teases, and you nod. “Alright.”

Even though he asks, once you’re at the bar ordering a round of six tequila shots, Jungkook is the one handing over his credit card to the bartender. You scold him, insisting you’ll pay for the next round. He’s just happy that you’re thinking about continuing the night with him, though he’s a little apprehensive about drinking more.

“Alright, on three,” you say with a smile, counting down before you both toss back the first shot and bite into a lemon. “Where are your friends?”

“Somewhere in the club,” Jungkook replies, his head nodding to the rhythm of the music.

You grab his hand and guide him to the dancefloor. Jungkook marvels at how easygoing you are. Most girls he meets play hard to get, but you’re different—just here, vibing with everyone around you. His smile widens as he watches you mimicking the dance steps of a guy dressed as a banana.

You burst into laughter when you mess up the choreography, and the banana-guy spins you back toward Jungkook, probably assuming the two of you came together. You stumble into his arms, your rosy cheeks and bright giggles captivating him even though he can barely hear it over the music.

After the fourth shot, Jungkook has to stop, reaching his limit. He isn’t used to drinking this much, especially tequila. But he chuckles, watching as you confidently take down two more. When you turn to him, he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Already?” you tease, giggling, and he rolls his eyes, amused. You finish the remaining shots by yourself, and he’s genuinely impressed. How can someone as small as you handle so much alcohol?

Jungkook blinks a few times, shaking his head. He’s almost certain you’re going to regret this if you keep bouncing around to the music like that.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, leaning closer, and he nods, patting his chest to settle the burn in his throat.

He grabs a bottle of water he ordered, takes a sip, and offers it to you. But you shake your head, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a strange responsibility to make sure you’re okay. You’ve only just met, but he’s already trying to sober you up a bit—anything to avoid you ending the night sick.

“Do you drink often?” Jungkook asks, grimacing as he takes another sip of water. He’s already done with tequila—probably for life.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckle, your tone playful as you make him smile and shrug.

“Just that you definitely know how to hold your liquor.”

“I just needed to get drunk and forget this year,” you admit, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

“Do you want me to walk you to your friends?” Jungkook offers, his voice laced with concern.

“Are you tired of me, Spider-Man?” you joke, swaying slightly as you both half-dance to the pulsing music.

“W-What? No!” Jungkook stammers, looking adorably flustered, and you laugh at his reaction.

“I’m kidding,” you say, nudging his shoulder with a grin.

“Can… I have your number? Or maybe your social media?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear to make himself heard over the music. You pull back to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. Both of you have hooded eyes, softened by the alcohol and dim lights.

Jungkook feels a rush of admiration for your boldness. You don’t care about the people around you or their opinions. His hand hesitates before resting on the small of your back. You tilt your head, your nose brushing his as your lips hover dangerously close.

“Do you want to have fun?” you murmur, your mouth brushing his ear, the music muffling everything else.

“What kind of fun?” he asks, his breath caressing your cheek. He feels himself leaning into the moment, emboldened by your energy. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.

You smirk slowly, your hand slipping into his to guide him off the dancefloor. Jungkook frowns slightly in confusion when you lead him into the women’s restroom. Before he can ask why, you cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that sends his heart racing.

He finds it thrilling—kissing someone he just met, in a place he’d never expect. It’s not the kind of fun he was imagining, but he’s definitely not complaining. You guide him blindly into one of the stalls, closing the door behind you as he presses you against it.

“What if someone catches us?” he whispers, his lips trailing along your jaw.

“We can stop if you want,” you reply, threading your fingers into his hair before pulling him into another heated kiss.

“No,” he says honestly, making you smile. “But we’re drunk.”

“Can’t get hard when you’re drunk?” you tease, your lips brushing the column of his neck. Jungkook chuckles darkly, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his joggers. Your eyes light up as you feel his growing arousal beneath the fabric.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as your hand starts to stroke him above his jogger. His mind races—this is new for him. He’s had his share of casual flings, but never with a stranger and never in public. Surprisingly, the thrill of possibly being caught makes the moment even more exhilarating.

He wonders if you’ve done this before—you seem so at ease. But before he can ask, your hand slides under the waistband of his joggers, palming his growing bulge. His eyes close almost instantly, a soft groan escaping him as your touch sends heat coursing through his body. His own hands find your backside, squeezing gently, grounding himself in the moment.

“Do you want to fuck me?” you whisper, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“What—I—right now?” he stammers, wide-eyed, and you nod. Pressing your back against the door, you reach behind to unzip the bottom of your costume, your movements deliberate and teasing. Jungkook’s gaze remains locked on you, his mind racing.

His eyes widen further as he begins patting the pockets of his joggers in a frantic search for his wallet. He knows there’s a condom in there—he’s certain he hasn’t used it. A chance like this? No way he’s letting it slip by. He’s just a guy, after all, and if a beautiful woman wants him, Jungkook isn’t about to say no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing as his wallet slips from his fumbling hands. He scrambles to catch it, earning another amused giggle from you.

When he finally retrieves the little plastic wrapper, he holds it up proudly. You smirk, pulling him into a heated kiss while he helps you peel off the bottom half of your costume. The black panties underneath match the dark tights perfectly, a sight that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His hands twitch at his sides, trying to maintain control.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admits softly, hiking your leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing you against him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you reply with a playful giggle, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance while the other threads through his messy hair. “New year, new experiences, right?”

“You’re really something else,” he chuckles, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. His eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, and his hand slides between your thighs, fingertips brushing against you through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head falling back against the door as your hips instinctively press into his touch. Your reaction sends a shiver down his spine; he swears he’s never heard anyone curse so beautifully.

Jungkook frees himself from his boxers, giving his cock a few slow strokes while watching your every reaction. His gaze flickers between your face and the way your body trembles under his hand. When he pushes your panties aside, he hesitates momentarily to open the condom.

“Tell me to stop,” he says suddenly, his voice wavering as he tries to cling to the last shred of his rationality.

“Don’t you dare,” you reply with a grin, tugging at his boxers to free him completely. He groans, any semblance of self-control slipping away as he feels your hand stroke him again, this time skin-on-skin.

The muffled music from the club outside only adds to the surrealness of the moment. Every so often, someone walks into the restroom, and Jungkook tenses, half-expecting a knock on the door. But the thrill of being caught only seems to heighten his excitement. When you grab his face to focus him on you, your lips brushing against his, he realizes he’s long past the point of no return.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom over his length. His other hand pushes his joggers just low enough to give him room to move. “Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his voice trembling with need.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, guiding him to your entrance. His fingers dig into your hips as he presses forward slowly, the stretch eliciting soft gasps from both of you. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

“Please, move,” you urge him in a whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips pull back before snapping forward, setting a steady rhythm that has you biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Jungkook’s movements grow more erratic as he loses himself in the sensation of you. The cramped space of the stall, the muffled music, and the ever-present risk of being caught only add to the intensity. His hands roam your body, gripping your thighs and waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency.

“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“Faster,” you gasp, your hands sliding down to grab his ass and urge him deeper. He obliges, his pace quickening until the sound of your bodies colliding fills the small space. “Fuck –“

You bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, and he curses under his breath, the combination of your teeth and the tight grip of your walls pushing him closer to the edge.

“I’m close,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts grow rougher, the door rattling slightly with each movement.

“Me too,” you manage to reply, your voice shaky as the tension in your body builds. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling over the edge. Your walls tighten around him as you climax, your muffled cries vibrating against his skin.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you, spilling into the condom with a final deep thrust. He collapses against you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. The countdown outside ends in cheers and shouts of celebration, but neither of you notices, still lost in the aftershocks of your high.

For a moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Jungkook pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sounds of celebration seep back in as you both begin to steady your breathing.

“That was…” he trails off, unable to find the right words. “Hot.”

You smirk, cupping his face to leave a lingering kiss on his swollen lips.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, your voice soft but playful.

“Happy New Year,” he replies, his hand snaking behind your neck to pull you into another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last. Jungkook knows he has to go back to his friends soon.

“What’s your name again?” you laugh, your breath mingling with his as he chuckles.

“Jungkook. Yours?”

“Y/N.”

hiiii!! first of all, happy new year to you all. may 2025 be a better year for you. secondly, i know, I KNOW, i'm a little late with the one shot i promised, i'm sorry! i was too busy those last few days. to be honest, the one shot didn't result as i was hoping for. I had a few ideas about it and it doesn't look like... what i expected. but i promise you a jk one shot for the new year so here it is. i'll do better next time, i swear!! but i do hope that you enjoyed reading it <3 I'll see you around, and on that, i'm going back to write the DOU chapter 6 now that i have free time!! luv y’all — Riza

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

everything abt ur work is so so soooo good!!! do u think if u have the time u could write smth abt chan making the reader squirt? hehe n ofc w the daddy kink too

anyways i love u have a great day!!

does it feel like a big one?

pairing: daddy!chan x princess!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2ss and ~1k words

warnings: daddy kink, pet names, squirting, fingering, toys, praise, edging

an: god i’m so fucking feral. idek if this is any good. i wrote it in a needy haze, i blacked out. idk what happened. anon, thanks for your request. loving you. ♡

masterlist

‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼ adults only • mdni ‼ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⚠︎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ‼

and that’s how you ended up here.

it had started off slow, your gentle daddy rubbing his hands against your skin, his fingertips ghosting over every inch of your naked body. he teased a little. his fingers would glide over your mound but only for a second, before they were traveling back up your tummy. he would circle his fingers around your bare nipples, squeezing your breasts softly in his palms.

he kissed your lips, smiling against them, before kissing down to your chest. his kisses feather light as he moved farther down. you thought he may put his mouth on your most sensitive area. you hoped he would. but it was just more faint kisses. more teasing.

“why are you so squirmy, baby? huh?”

you couldn’t keep your legs still, couldn’t keep your hips still. your body was in search of him. in need of him. you whined.

“nuh uh. no whining, remember?” he gently scolded. “daddy is just getting started.”

he spread your legs and knelt on the mattress between them. you were fully open for him and you were wet. he could see it, and you could feel it. the air in the room feeling suddenly cold on your sensitive lips.

he ran his fingertips along your thighs, up between your legs, ghosting over your damp sex, until he finally touched you. a real touch. with his index finger, he rubbed soft circles against your clit. he watched as your body reacted, your legs trying to clamp shut around his arm, but he held them in place.

“so sensitive, princess.” he breathed. “that’s good. that’s what we want for this.”

his fingers traveled down and dipped ever so slightly in your pool of arousal, but he didn’t penetrate. the feeling still sent shivers over your whole body.

“you are so beautiful.” he said, leaning down to kiss your tummy. he couldn’t help himself. he wanted to kiss you all over. wanted to shove his tongue inside you. but he had to wait. he had to be patient.

he leaned over you and grabbed the toy off the nightstand. it was just a little vibrating wand. you hummed in anticipation. “mm your eyes got wide at this, baby.” he said, clicking the device on, a quiet buzzing filling your ears. “you want this?”

you nodded, frantically. but that wasn’t enough. “words baby.”

“please, daddy. i want it. please.”

your begging went straight to his cock. your high pitched, watery pleas for him to give you what you want made him ache.

he pressed the toy against you clit for a second before pulling it away. your body convulsed. he pressed it to you again, only for a second. he did this a few times before finally leaving it against you, letting it do its work. it didn’t take long for you to reach the edge.

“don’t you dare cum, baby.” he warned. “you tell daddy when you’re close.”

“i’m close! i’m close!” you immediately yelled. and he pulled his hand away. he gave you a moment to relax, running the vibrator up your tummy and around your nipples before eventually bringing it back to your puffy little clit.

he held it there again, and after a minute or two, you were warning him again of your impending orgasm. he brought you to the edge 3 or 4 times before he slowly slipped his fingers inside your drippy hole.

you babbled incoherently as he slid 2 fingers inside you, curling them up to touch your favorite spot. “i think you’re ready, princess.”

his fingers felt so good, you were finally getting some stimulation. your body was so on edge. you felt so.. full. but not in the way you were used to. you felt full in a way that needed release. he started to slide his fingers in and out, gradually getting faster. he brought the vibrator back to your clit as he continued to finger you.

“oh my god..” you whined. “fuck..”

“careful with your language baby.” he warned. “it just feels so good, huh?”

you nodded, your fists gripping the sheets, your eyes squeezed shut as your head turned back and forth. he could feel you clamping down on his fingers, making it hard for him to move them.

“are you gonna cum baby?” he asked. “does it feel like a big one?”

“mhm.” you said. “it.. it feels like i need to potty.”

“that’s okay, angel. you just relax and let it go, okay? can you do that for me?” his fingers pumped in and out of you, your clit was almost numb from the constant vibration, and wet squelching sounds filled the room. “you can do it baby. cum for daddy.”

as you started to moan louder and louder, your body shaking, liquid started to pool around his fingers. he pulled them out quickly, leaving the vibrator on your clit. your release squirted out, coating the bed and his chest and arms in creamy little droplets.

“fuck.” he panted. “there you go, baby. good girl.”

it came in waves as your orgasm crashed over you. as your body convulsed, more would squirt out until you were empty. your body went limp. he turned the vibrator off, gently leaning down to kiss your skin, anywhere he could reach. your tummy, your chest, your neck, your jaw.

“are you doin okay, little one?” he asked.

you nodded, trying to catch your breath.

“you did it.” he said, kissing your temple. “daddy’s so proud of you. i knew you could do it. and it was so hot, baby.”

your eyes fluttered open, and you turned your head to face him. “really?”

his plush lips met yours. “yes really. you’re so sexy, baby. so perfect.”

“mm” you hummed, rubbing your nose against his. “love you, daddy.”

“i love you, princess.” he rutted into you, his clothed cock rubbing against your thigh. “you gonna let daddy use you now?” he asked. “i’ll be quick. let me fill you up, baby.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

i’m obviously not a squirt expert lol this is just from my experience.

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[redisthenewblue]

TINKER- Twisted Wonderland x Tinkerbell!Yuu/Fem!Reader Part 1 Part 2

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Being a fairy like [Name] was definitely not for the faint-hearted. Fortunately, [Name] managed to hold her own. She was always seen as the smallest and weakest in the family, the one who seemed to drag everyone down. Her creative ideas were often brushed off in a family that preferred to stick to tradition. That’s why when Peter, a boy their age, actually showed interest in what she had to say, [Name] couldn’t help but latch onto him. Wherever Peter went, [Name] was usually right there, trailing behind. That is, until Wendy and her little brothers decided to tag along. At first, [Name] didn’t mind too much, but Wendy just had to make it worse by throwing some not-so-subtle flirts Peter's way.

So there they were, sitting by a tree, doing their usual thing. [Name] was tinkering with an old watch, John and Michael were play-fighting with wooden swords, and Peter had just given Wendy a beautiful sapphire pendant he found. “He’s given me a prettier pendant anyway,” [Name] thought, biting her lip as they focused harder on the watch. 

“Oh Peter, I’m so happy I think I could give you a kiss!” Wendy exclaimed. 

That was it. [Name] shot up from her spot, their wings jingling as they fluttered in a mix of anger and disbelief. A pale glow around them turned fiery red. Peter wouldn’t really go for that, would he?

“What’s a kiss?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Well... I’ll show you!” Wendy said, leaning in.

Before she could land a peck on Peter’s lips, [Name] swooped in, grabbing Wendy by the hair and yanking her backward. Peter swatted at [Name] like she were just a pesky fly, which would’ve stung if it wasn’t for the fact that they were fighting for their life up in the air.

“What’s the matter with you, [Name]?!” Peter shouted.

With arms crossed defiantly, [Name] replied, “What’s the matter with me?! I’ll tell you what the matter is! It’s her!” She turned their back on Peter, fuming.

“Then leave! I hereby banish you… forever!” Peter announced dramatically.

Whipping their head around, [Name] gritted her teeth, feeling her size shrink as they flew away. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

That was the last time [Name] saw Peter. Time passed, and she grew older, still has a bit of a loose temper but definitely more mature. If she got accepted into NRC, they would be picked up tonight. Despite her parents' disapproval due to the family’s belief of everyone filling their designated role in the village , [Name] couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in the village all her life —not after all the work she put in. She stuffed every piece of clothing she might need into their bag, feeling her eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. Yawning, she trudged over to her flower bed, snuggling into the soft petals and slowly drifting off to sleep.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[Name] jolted awake, her wings twitching in what felt like confinement. Wait... why were their wings trapped? She felt around and tumbled out of a coffin onto the cold floor. 

“Nyah?!”

Suddenly, a flash of blue fire and a mop of black hair caught her attention. “I better hurry up and find that uniform before someone spots me... Urgh, this lid weighs a ton! Try this on for size! Mya-ha!”

Fire?! What in the Sevens was going on? [Name] turned to see a boy with black hair. Strangely, she sensed no magic from him, which was pretty unusual for a magic school.

“Now to grab the goods... What?! You two aren't supposed to be awake!”

“A talking weasel?! Two?” The boy blinked, noticing the glittering fairy wings and petite stature of the girl behind him. As he reached out to touch the wings, [Name] slapped his hand away with an angry jingle. “Don’t touch,” she reprimanded.

How surreal was this dream? The boy thought, rubbing his hand to ease the sting.

“How... HOW DARE YOU! I’m no WEASEL! I’m Grim, sorcerer extraordinaire!”

“You don’t look so extraordinary,” [Name] shot back, a smirk forming.

“Tch. Whatever. You... Fly! Just give me your uniform, and be quick about it! More specifically, you insect!” Grim pointed at [Name] with his paw. “I bet I can fit your clothes! If you don’t... you’re gonna regret it!”

Insect? Please, [Name] was taller than this little pest by a long shot. Anger and embarrassment flushed their face.

“Getting slapped by a fairy and roasted alive by a weasel? What will I dream of next?”

“Well, keep dreamin', 'cause I ain't no weasel!”

Sure...

“Where am I?” the black-haired boy asked, looking around.

Now that was odd. Either this guy was slow or from another planet. Even in her small village of Fairy Hallow, people knew about prestigious schools like NRC.

"Foolish human! Did you really think you could slip away from ME? Unless you want to get burned to a crisp, take off that—Me-YEOW! That hurt! What gives?”

A whip seemingly from nowhere hit “the extraordinary Grim.” You’d have to be crazy to think [Name] wouldn’t seize this chance to get back at this little weasel for making fun of her height.

“Could the oh-so-powerful Grim not sense that?” [Name] snickered, the jingle of her wings adding salt to the wound.

“NYAH?! You!”

“Consider it tough love. Ah, I’ve found you two at last. Splendid! I trust you’re the new students for this year? My, were you children ever eager to make your debuts. And bringing a poorly trained familiar with you? That’s a clear violation of the school’s rules.”

“It’s not ours,” the duo said in unison.

“As if I’d serve some lowly human and an annoying fairy! Now lemme go!”

An irk mark appeared on [Name]’s forehead. The audacity of this cat was astonishing.

“Once I get my wand, I’ll—” the glow around [Name] began to turn red, but the headmaster cut them off. Maybe that was for the best; what she was about to say was definitely better left unsaid.

“Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you? Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you two are the first with the audacity to open their own gate and step out of it. Does the very notion of patience elude you? No matter.” The older man scolded.

“Your orientation has already begun. Let us return to the Mirror Chamber.” As they walked, a question sparked within the boy.

“What do you mean by student...?”

“You awakened in a room full of gates, did you not? All the students here at the campus arrived by passing through such gates. Although typically—”

“You came through a coffin-shaped portal into Night Raven College, or NRC for short, a school for magic. The one leading us is the headmaster of the school,” [Name] interrupted, eager to explain. Leaning in closer, she whispered to the boy, “But I believe you don’t have any magic to attend, so you might be sent home.” The boy’s eyes widened slightly.

“Well said,” the headmaster praised, “But now is not the time for such prattle. You have a student orientation to attend! Go on, now. Make haste.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“Orientation and dorm assignments are done? All right, new students—let me be clear. At Heartslabyul House, I am the law. Break the rules, and it’s off with your head!” a boy with cherry-red hair proclaimed.

‘He’s probably going to be a dictator,’ [Name] muttered under her breath.

“Well, that ceremony was as boring as ever. I’m going back to the dorm. If you’re in Savanaclaw House, follow me,” yawned a male with lion ears.

‘It’s hardly even the afternoon yet.’

“New students! Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I’m honored to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.”

“He looks shifty,” the black-haired boy remarked, appalled at [Name]’s bluntness. How could she be so casual about it?!

“Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went? He disappeared midway through the ceremony?” a striking boy asked his fellow dorm leaders.

“Some headmage he is,” a voice emitted from a tablet.

“Maybe he had a tummy ache?” one suggested.

“I most certainly did not!” He argued.

The Red-Headed Boy crossed his arms across his chest “Ah, speak of the devil.”

“If you must know, I was searching for the new students who failed to show for orientation. You two are the only ones yet to be assigned a dorm. Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I’ll watch your weasel.” Crowley explained to the House wardens.

[Name] was the first to step up, revealing her face to the mirror.

“State thy name,” commanded the mirror.

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, “ [Name] Faye.”

“ Her soul is incredibly strong and unwavering. You hold immense potential, [Name] Faye. You’re perfect for Diasomnia.”

“Wait a minute… You’re a girl?!”

The room erupted into hushed whispers.

“What’s wrong with being a girl?” [Name] asked, her brows knitting together in confusion, placing her hands on her hips.

“The problem is that NRC is a BOYS SCHOOL. It’s completely inappropriate to have a girl surrounded by all these boys... I’ll have you sent home immediately.”

The fairy flinched at the man’s words. Perhaps her small village didn’t know everything about NRC, but it was too late for her to turn back now. She had to figure out a way to convince him to let her stay. [Name] gracefully stepped aside, giving the boy access to the mirror.

“State thy name,” the mirror repeated.

“Yuuken?” he replied, sounding more like a question than an answer. I mean, he had just been tossed into a random magic school without even knowing magic existed. For all he knew, this could be some bizarre fever dream.

“…The nature of your soul IS…….. unclear to me,” the mirror declared, and for a brief moment, silence enveloped the room.

“What did you just say?” the headmaster interjected, breaking the stillness.

“I sense no magical power from this one. Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be suitable.”

Yuuken winced at the mirror’s bluntness. Ouch, talk about harsh.

“Are you suggesting that the black carriage came to pick up someone who can’t even use magic? That’s ridiculous! The student selection process has never made a mistake in a century! How could this happen?”

Grim struggled against his restraints. “Mmmph! Nnnrgggh... ME! Let ME take this student’s place!”

“Not so fast, you hyperactive weasel!”

“Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! Let me be a student here! Watch, I’ll show you! My spells are the cat’s meow!” Grim inhaled deeply and let out a massive burst of fire from his mouth.

“I’m starting to think he’s more dragon than cat,” someone quipped.

“Is this really the time for jokes?!” Yuuken shouted in panic as flames engulfed the mirror hall.

“Everyone, get down!” warned the red-haired boy.

The boy with red eyes and white hair flailed his arms like a maniac. “AHHHHH! HELP! I’m on fire over here!”

“Stop, drop, and roll!” *[Name]* laughed, nearly doubling over as she wheezed. Yuuken sweat-dropped, catching the girl in his arms as she struggled to breathe. How could she find this funny? Finally, she gathered herself and flicked her wrist toward the flaming boy, sprinkling some fairy dust on his burning robe, instantly extinguishing the flames. A proud jingle rang out as her wings fluttered. “Fairy dust fixes everything.”

“Someone catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school on fire!” Crowley ordered.

“Can I leave now, or…?” the lion boy groaned.

“Oh? I thought you fancied yourself a hunter. Go and help yourself to that plump little morsel!” the blonde boy teased.

“Too much effort. You do it,” the beast man shot back.

“Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are capable of catching a little creature, I’ll take on the responsibility.” One dorm leader with glasses stepped up to the challenge.

“Check it out! See how strong I am?!” Grim cackled.

“How very bold of you to break the rules in my presence,” Riddle said sternly, glaring at Grim.

“Shall we make this quick, then, Riddle? I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” the boy with glasses smirked, gripping his magic pen.

“Must you take pleasure in playing with your prey, Azul?” Riddle sighed, pulling out his own magic pen.

“And here I thought we both enjoyed this sort of thing,” Azul feigned disappointment.

“Please, I’m not like you, so spare me your nonsense.”

Grim yelped, “Myah! It’s a dead end!”

“Poor thing. Did you run yourself straight into a corner?” Azul taunted, further trapping Grim.

“I suggest you give up. Otherwise…” the redhead threatened.

“NO! I’m getting into this school, and that’s FINAL!”

*[Name]* tilted her head, intrigued. She was enjoying this more than watching the Lost Boys squabble. A part of her felt sorry for the cat; he wanted to join the school just as much as she did.

“Stand aside, Azul!” Riddle commanded, pointing his magic pen at Grim, preparing to deliver the final blow.

“Off With Your Head!”

“What was that?” Yuuken asked, staring in awe at the collar around Grim’s neck.

“It’s a unique magic. A signature spell that only one mage can use. Its name is a bit gruesome, though…”

Yuuken nodded, understanding the girl’s explanation. “What’s your unique magic then?”

*[Name]* shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I only know the simple spells I’ve picked up from books. I’m more of an inventor than a mage.”

“The Queen of Heart's Rule 23: ‘One must never bring a cat to a formal affair.’ Your very presence here violates that order. You need to vacate these premises immediately,” Riddle quoted.

“Glad I’m not in his dorm,” *[Name]* muttered. She’d probably die trying to follow all those rules. She considered herself a free spirit, prone to unpredictable bursts of anger from time to time.

“Until I remove that collar, you won’t be able to use any magic. You’re nothing but a pet cat now,” Riddle taunted, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“M-meoWHAT?! I’m nobody’s pet—NOTHING!” Grim stepped back, raising his paws defensively.

“Oh, you have nothing to worry about there. I have no intention of keeping you as a pet. The collar will disappear once you leave campus.”

“Ha-HA! Good show as always, Riddle. Your signature spell nullifies any magic. It’s quite handy. I just HAVE to respect it—ah, I mean, I just have to have respect for it.”

*[Name]* shot Azul a side-eye. No point in trying to cover up what he just said; everyone heard it.

“*[Name]*! Was I not clear that you’re expected to take responsibility for your familiar? Now discipline your—What’s that? It isn’t yours?” Crowley chastised her.

“It’s not mine?! Why would you assume it’s mine?!” *[Name]*’s temper flared once more.

“Oh... Is that so?” Crowley said, sweat trickling down his face at her outburst. “Then I’ll have it expelled from campus. I’ll even spare it from being served for dinner. My, but I AM kind... Someone take this away, please.”

“Why doesn’t he just do it himself?” the fairy muttered under her breath.

“NOOOOO! Let me gooooo! You fools better remember my name! I’m going down in magic history! Just you wait!” Grim shouted, struggling against the students holding him. *[Name]* felt a twinge of sympathy for him. He must have a reason for wanting to stay here, just like she did.

“I wonder why he’s so desperate to be here?”

“Well, that was quite the unexpected spectacle. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms… Hm? Come to think of it, I don’t see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere.”

“And that surprises you? The dude’s a total recluse.”

“Wait a sec... Did anyone even invite him?” the boy she saved from the fire asked.

“Ah. Just as I suspected. I thought I’d come down and see for myself if Malleus had shown up. But once again, he was evidently not informed that his presence was required at an official ceremony.” He shook his head in disappointment. Something told *[Name]* this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.

“You have my sincerest apologies. I assure you, this oversight was not intended as a slight,” Azul said, his tone insincere.

“I mean, you have to admit, he’s not exactly the easiest person to strike up a conversation with,” Riddle tried to justify.

“Never mind. All who were assigned to House Diasomnia, follow me. I just hope he doesn’t sulk about this.”

*[Name]* glanced at Yuuken from the corner of her eye, then tucked her wings behind her and pulled her hood up. She trailed behind the Diasomnia group, putting a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. Yuuken’s eyes widened in disbelief at her antics. Did she really think she wouldn’t get caught? Especially with her glowing presence and the trail of fairy dust she left behind? He quickly turned his gaze back to the headmage, who had his back to him, facing the mirror.

“Well, Yuuken, *[Name]*. This is quite an unfortunate turn of events. I’m afraid you won’t be attending Night Raven College after all. Surely you realize that I can’t very well admit a student with no magical ability and a girl to my academy. But don’t worry. The Dark Mirror will see you home safely. Now, step into the gate and visualize the place you came from.”

The headmage turned around, only to find Yuuken standing there.

“Where did *[Name]* disappear to?”

Yuuken looked down at his feet, remembering how the girl had signaled him to keep quiet about her whereabouts. She must have had her reasons. “I’m not sure... I just want to go home.”

Crowley sighed. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Come along now.”

He actually believed it?!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

*[Name]* kept her head down to avoid drawing attention. It was dark outside in the Diasomnia dorm, making it easier to blend in, thankfully the ceremonial robe dulled her glow a bit.

The vice housewarden helped the new students settle into the dorm. *[Name]* stopped in front of her dorm’s door, sighing in relief for making it past all the staff and students. She turned the doorknob slowly, peeking inside. It was a four-person room. She was about to—

“Shoot.” *[Name]* cursed her luck and was about to turn around when someone came barreling up from behind her.

“MOVE!”

She jumped in shock. Why was he so loud?!

She stepped aside, allowing the boy to access the door while flicking some dust on his foot, causing him to trip and tumble upside down. Was everyone here like this? An “excuse me” would’ve been nice. She simmered with annoyance at the situation. *[Name]* huffed and walked away from the door.

“Excuse me? Are you going into the dorm?”

[Name] let out a startled scream, jumping at the sound of the voice, her light green wings flaring up in defense. She looked up and nearly fell back at the sight of a boy with dark pink eyes floating above her, staring straight into her soul.

“Looks like you snuck in…” the boy teased.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

The boy began inspecting her wings. “Seems like you’re the girl from earlier… You do know this is an all-boys school, right?”

“You—”

“Lilia Vanrouge,” he introduced himself.

“Lilia… I really need to stay at this school,” [Name] broke character for once, desperation creeping into her voice. “I can’t go back home; I have nowhere…” Her eyes dropped as she fumbled with her fingers. Her wings twitched, lowering as if surrendering.

Lilia’s gaze softened slightly as he listened to her. “I won’t turn you in today, but if you want to stay, you should talk to Headmage Crowley.”

[Name] perked up at Lilia’s words. “Thank you! But where will I stay tonight?”

“Can you shrink?”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[Name] nestled comfortably in an antique music box, tucked in with a small scrap of cloth. She watched as Lilia polished his weapon. In a way, it reminded her of the weapons Peter would describe in his stories.

“I wonder how he’s doing,” *[Name]* murmured in her native tongue.

“Who?” Lilia asked, curious.

“You can understand?!” Shock washed over her features.

He pointed to his ears, which resembled hers. They were pointed too!

“What kind of fae are you?”

“Nocturnal Fae. You must be a tinker fairy.”

[Name] zipped over to Lilia, circling around him. “Where are your wings?”

“Fu Fu Fu... Not all fae and fairies have wings,” he chuckled lightly.

“Oh…” [Name] yawned, pinching herself to stay awake. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing [Name] to plop herself on the crown of Lilia’s head, drifting off to sleep.

[littlechivalry]

Threshold

Post-UD, everybody lives. Established Steddie

-

Eddie couldn't do it. He turned, ready to run, but Steve's hand clamped down on his arm like an iron manacle.

"Fuck you, let me go," Eddie hissed.

"Like hell I will," Steve replied, just as harshly. "You have to do this, you're the only one who can."

"I'd rather die."

The sales clerk cleared her throat and Eddie snapped his mouth shut.

"Are you-- can I help you find anything else," she said softly, her hands open in front of her.

"No," Steve replied. "Just this."

'This' was a vacuum cleaner. An upright vacuum cleaner with hose attachment and a retractable cord. A one hundred dollar vacuum cleaner.

Eddie felt sick. He pulled his hand away and Steve let it go awkwardly. Eddie cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, just this." He pulled out his wallet and passed over the money. Signing the warranty card in a messy scrawl.

They walked out of the store and loaded the vacuum into the back of Steve's truck.

Steve and Eddie had gotten to the car in silence but once the doors were closed it started.

"Babe," Steve said, his voice soft but firm. "What was that about? We agreed we need a new vacuum. Wayne's old one gave up the ghost and the carpet sweeper does nothing. I thought this was cool."

Eddie groaned and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "It's not-- it's just..."

He couldn't find the words and Steve didn't press him. The interior of the truck's cab was quiet, windows muffling the noise of other shoppers moving through the parking lot, the occasional sound of their radios drifting on the air.

Eddie took a few breaths, heard Steve do the same beside him - in - out - in - out

"Can I check in," Steve says after a few breaths.

"Almost," Eddie replies and they go back to breathing.

This time Eddie breaks the silence. "It's real, right?"

"Real," Steve echoes. "The vacuum? Yeah?"

"It's -- the vacuum we have now? Wayne got it from the Johnsons before they moved to go live with their kids in Des Moines. It was a really good vacuum. Lasted, like. Seven years. The one before that Wayne found in the trash. It needed some fixing up and the hose had to be taped together but it ran for two years."

Steve hums, just a considering noise to show he's listening but leaving Eddie some spacw to talk. Eddie cannot explain how much he appreciates that.

"The stove was a store display they were gonna toss out because the wiring was bad. The couch was abandoned on a curb up in Loch Nora. Most of my clothes come from the Goodwill; Wayne's too, even his work boots. My guitar, my sweetheart, is a hand-me-down to I don't know how many degrees."

Eddie sighs and tips his head back against the headrest. The ceiling of the cab is upholstered in dark blue fabric. Eddie drags his fingers over it.

"Munsons don't get new things, Steve. Not nice ones, anyway." He blew out a rough breath. "I know this is stupid. It's just a vacuum cleaner, but--"

"Don't say that," Steve interrupted. "If I don't get to say stupid neither do you."

Eddie reached over the gear shift and clasped the hand Steve offered.

"Okay," Steve said. "Do you... should we return the vacuum?"

"No," Eddie said. "No, that's not the answer. We-- I have the money. I can afford a new vacuum, a nice one."

"A really nice one."

"And it's okay to buy new things."

"It really is," Steve said.

Eddie nodded. "We're grown ups now, Stevie. Got good jobs, a nice apartment, a fancy new vacuum cleaner. What's next, a picket fence? 2.5 kids and a dog?"

Steve smiled and pulled Eddie's hand up to his face, pressed a kiss against his knuckles before letting go and reaching for the ignition. "I'm allergic to dogs but let's get home and we can start working on kids."

Eddie reached out for Steve, pulling him across the armrest into a fierce kiss.

Steve fell back into his seat, a bright flush in his cheeks. "Wow," Steve said, starting the car. "What are you gonna do when we buy a house?"

The radio came to life but Eddie could barely hear it over his own laughter.

[phosph-ate]

Hide Away

Dr. Phosphorus x GN!Reader

Summary: Dr. Phosphorus has you feeling things. You are sure these feelings are one-sided, but after hiding from your feelings you come to realize that is not true.

CW: Suggestive themes, 18+, dry humping, biting, you get freaky in a closet, rick refers to you as kid, you are immune to dr phosphorus but no other details of how/what you are is given, no beta.

WC: 0.8k

A/N: divider by cafekitsune. this is just a random idea; I wanted to get freaky in a closet with the skeleton thus this was born. I do plan on making maybe a little series for phosphorus x reader... And maybe a p2 for this with maybe a fem and male reader... idk I'm bouncing ideas around right now. Also, side note, I've only ever written reader inserts or character x oc, and this show has me wanting to do character x character fics... anyway, let's goooo!

You were crumbling. Fast.

You watched Dr. Phosphorus from across the room. Your eyes wandered from his face to his ribs, down to his belt. You needed to know what he was like. What he felt like. You needed him.

“Are you okay?” Nina nudged you.

“Uh,” You looked away from the man you were swooning over. You were hot. Everything was so hot. “I just need some fresh air.”

You turned away from Nina and walked down the hall. As you continued, thoughts plagued you. The glances you would share with Phosphorus, the small touches here and there. It was driving you insane. You figured you could not say anything. So you kept your thoughts to yourself.

You, on autopilot, found a closet and quickly entered it. You needed to get your mind off of him, and immediately. Once you realized you were in a fucking closet, you had to think of a gameplan to get to your room. Maybe you could handle the situation yourself.

You sat down, back against the wall, and shut your eyes tight. The only source of light coming into the room was from under the door. Other than that, you sat in the dark. You sucked in air and placed your head in your hands. Your world was spinning, leaving you to not notice the door opening.

“This is your idea of getting some fresh air?” The closet door shut and suddenly it was not completely dark in the room. You could definitely make out Dr. Phosphorus.

“Oh!” You jumped and tried to scoot further back but realized you could not get any closer to the wall. “I was just- I’m thinking!” You ended up snapping at him.

“About…-”

You could not handle it anymore. “About you!” You tried to keep your voice down. You groaned and hugged yourself. “It’s always you…” You huffed. “I want- No, I need to know what it’s like-”

“What do you need to know?” Oh, he was smug.

“Everything!” You stood up and looked at him, really looked at him. “I want to feel you; I want you to touch me! Dr. Phosphorus-”

“Call me Alex.” He corrected you.

Your face was burning now. Your eyes widened and you sucked in air. “Alex,” You were begging, “I need you.”

You thought he was smug before. He stepped towards you and his hands reached for you. “Are you sure?” He sounded like he was trying hard to compose himself. To keep himself from pouncing on you.

You nodded, “I’ve never needed anything more in my entire fucking life.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Dr. Phosphorus grabbed you. His hands grabbed your hips, and he pulled you close to him. You were pressed against the wall, and he stared at you. At least, you were sure that was what he was doing. “Can I kiss you?” You begged.

“Please.” It was his turn to beg. You kissed him, gently on the cheek. You began to pepper kisses across his face and your eyes shut. You moved slightly, getting a better angle, and Dr. Phosphorus moaned. His grip on you tightened and you rubbed your hips into his. He let out a whine.

It was music to your ears.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” His voice was husky. “Every time you laugh-” He continued, and you stopped kissing him and your head fell back from pleasure, “-and you lean back, I just want to-” He could not control himself anymore. His hips bucked into yours while you kept grinding against him and his teeth scraped your throat.

An airy noise escaped you and your eyes shut tight. You grabbed his coat and held on, knuckles turning colors from your grip. “Do that again. Please, Alex.” You whined. Dr. Phosphorus obliged. His teeth biting at your exposed skin, dragging from your throat to your collarbone.

Chills ran up your spine and you moaned. A little too loudly.

A fist banged on the closet door and neither of you responded. The door swung open. “What the fuck!?” Rick shouted. You ignored him. You felt too good to care.

Dr. Phosphorus kept grinding against you, his grip on you becoming bruising. And then, suddenly, there was nothing. Dr. Phosphorus was ripped from you and thrown out of the closet. You stood there, shocked and horny.

“We’ll continue this later,” Dr. Phosphorus reassured you.

Rick ran a hand through his hair and groaned. “Not in a fucking closet you won’t!” He snapped. “Come on out, kid.” He motioned for you to leave the closet.

“Can I get some fresh air now?” You looked at Rick in a daze.

“As long as you don’t get caught with him outside.” Rick glared at Dr. Phosphorus.

You nodded. You definitely needed to think. And, if Phosphorus was not pulling your leg about continuing later, you could wait for release.

[juniperskye]

You’re Not Alone In This.

Based on the following ask: @itzvenus04 Hotch is my comfort character, maybe it’s because he takes care of others and I like that especially when I take care of people all the time, I’m like Cinderella in my house like no joke, if I don’t do it, nobody will ever do it. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do like an Aaron x Diabetic reader fic, as I have diabetes and it’s extremely difficult and exhausting and love to maybe see that with a comfort character of mine. Like Aaron does anything and everything he can to understand the reader and the illness, like when the reader sugar is high or maybe low, taking care of doctor’s appointments, medication drop off, just putting effort in I just want to read something that could comfort me in that way because it’s exhausting being a diabetic and having no one bother to care about it or put effort in, I’m alone essentially - I really hope you like this babe! I did my best!

Aaron Hotchner x Diabetic! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 1709

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader has type 1 diabetes, mention of doctors and appointments, mention of medication/insulin management, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description – other than being a diabetic and having an insulin pump (worn tucked into their waistband or pocket) and an administration site located on their leg (there is mention of a site failure and relocation) as well as a sensor worn on the arm, reader is mentioned to work as well as being active in college courses (not full time), Hotch cares a lot, use of pet names, I think that’s everything – let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You were the type of person who couldn’t bear the thought of burdening others. As exhausting as it was, constantly doing things on your own and taking care of others, you did so without complaint because things needed to get done. It would be much easier to just do them as opposed to putting it on someone else, or worse, adding weight to their shoulders.

This growing sense of solitude grew when you began dating Aaron. It wasn’t that he made you feel alone, actually it was quite the opposite! Aaron was always reassuring you that he was by your side through it all, especially as your relationship progressed. But as things intensified, you couldn’t help but notice the sag in his shoulders, bags under his eyes, and the air of weariness he exuded. Aaron had an extremely difficult job, one that had taken far too much from him, so who were you to make his life any more difficult than it already was.

You did everything in your power to hide things from Aaron – just to keep from filling his plate with anymore worry. You would suffer in silence through the highs and lows of your mental health, the business from working full time and taking classes at the local college…and even more so, your physical health.

You had kept the fact that you had type one diabetes a secret from Aaron…not because you were embarrassed or because you didn’t trust him, it was simply because you knew he’d make it his mission to ensure that you were taken care of, ahead of everything else.

But that was the problem with dating a profiler. Aaron could see through the façade that were your replies of “things are good!” “I’m great.” “Classes are going well.” “I feel fine, just a little tired.” Aaron knew that there was something deeper, looming under the surface, something you weren’t telling him. So, two months into dating you’d had to come clean.

“Sweetheart, I know something is wrong. I just wish you’d tell me so I can help you.” He’d beg.

“Aaron everything is fine I pro-”

“Please don’t say everything is fine…honey, you were basically lethargic the other day when we facetimed, and I was so worried about you.”

“I’m diabetic Aaron. That’s what was wrong. My sugar was low. But everything is fine.” You explained.

After that, Aaron made sure to keep a closer eye on you. Not so much that you’d feel suffocated or like he was babying you, but enough that he could tell if your sugar was too high or too low. Once Aaron found out you had type one diabetes, he dove into late night research sessions on what all your condition entails, how to best manage your insulin, what an appropriate level looks like, how to calculate your carb intake so the proper amount of insulin is being administered as well as how to change your site and how to use the pump.

The change in his behavior was subtle…but noticeable. Aaron started keeping small snacks or juice with him in the case of a sugar low, he also started checking in on you more frequently. When you moved in, the changes became far more obvious, Aaron was doing so much around the house – always doing the dishes, taking the trash out with him on his way to work, doing laundry on the weekends, setting up deliveries for your groceries. It was overwhelming to have someone this attentive.

“Aaron, I can do this!” You giggled as his arms snuck around you, pulling the vacuum from your grasp.

“I know you can sweetheart, but you don’t have to. I will.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, encouraging you to go sit.

His overprotective nature didn’t surface until he witnessed a pretty intense low.

The morning had started off normal, you’d skipped out on breakfast, which wasn’t unusual. You’d completed an assignment for school and taken your dog on a walk when you started to feel off. It had been a little bit warm outside, but with the way you were sweating, you knew that wasn’t it.

You managed to get back home, but not without feeling lightheaded. You reached down to unclip the dog’s leash, and that’s when Aaron caught it, your hands were shaking, so much so that you were struggling to open the clasp.

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“I uh, I feel a little…” You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead and with the other, steadied yourself on the entry table. “Can you – would you grab me some���some juice?”

“Yeah, honey why don’t you sit down.” Aaron quickly went to the kitchen and poured a glass of juice.

Aaron watched you insistently as you sipped the juice. He reached over to check your phone, to see if your numbers were starting to regulate. Taking note of the number beginning to rise, he sat next to you and rubbed soothing circles on your spine.

“Honey, did you eat breakfast this morning?” Aaron inquired.

“No, but I never eat breakfast Aar. When I do, my numbers usually end up to high and then I feel sick all day.” You huffed.

“Okay, we will figure it out. Maybe we should schedule an appointment with your doctor.” He suggested.

“It’s always been like this, it’s okay really.”

“I’ll schedule an appointment for you sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to your temple.

Aaron was far more attentive with your illness, going with you to your doctor’s appointments, asking them how to avoid highs and lows, figuring out the best way to manage your insulin. He also began to monitor your medication, making sure you never ran out and that the pharmacy was processing your refills, when they got low.

This day was not going the way you had hoped. Things had been super overwhelming, you had finals coming up for your classes and work had been particularly busy, truthfully you were exhausted. You’d been nauseas all day, your numbers elevated, despite your best efforts to lower them.

You had taken a break from studying to change the laundry when you heard Aaron get home.

“Hey baby!” Aaron pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hi hon.” You mumbled.

Aaron knew you had been stressed out about school and work, you had put your finals dates on your shared calendar, and he figured that was taking its toll on you.

“Why don’t I make us some dinner? I can grill up some chicken?” He posed.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I can steam some broccoli to go with it.” You suggested.

“Perfect!” Aaron left you with a peck.

You’d finished up with the laundry and went to the kitchen, pulling out a water bottle from the fridge while you got started prepping the veggies.

Aaron glanced at you through the sliding door, he had noticed there were quite a few water bottles and cups scattered around the apartment, more than usual. He couldn’t help the bit of concern that crept in – you’d previously mentioned sugar highs sometimes came with unbearable thirst.

“Sweetheart, have you checked your number recently?” He asked.

“Yes, it’s been a little elevated today.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, a little nauseous but I’m fine.”

The two of you sat and ate dinner while talking about your days. You told Aaron about a new project at work and how you were more than ready for your finals to be over. He shared that he had consulted on a few cases today with some law enforcement from other states – hopefully they wouldn’t get called away this weekend.

After dinner you’d excused yourself to the restroom and Aaron cleared up the table, placing the leftovers in the fridge. He made his way to your shared bedroom and softly knocked on the bathroom door.

“Baby, is everything okay?”

“Aar, I’m fine.” You sighed.

“Would you let me in? Maybe I can help.” He offered.

“I don’t need help – Shit!” You hissed.

With that Aaron let himself in the bathroom, worried that you were hurt.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think there’s something wrong with my site.” You were fiddling with the site attached to your leg.

“Honey, why don’t we change it out, I can help.” Aaron moved to grab everything you’d need for your new site. “Is your sensor good still?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, go lay on the bed.” He commanded gently.

You went to lay on the bed, sliding your sweats off, carefully moving your pump to lay beside you on the bed. Aaron made his way over to you with the new injection set. He assisted you in removing the old one and placing the new one, taking note of the needle being bent slightly.

“Sweetheart, I think this is why you’ve been high all day. Your insulin wasn’t injecting properly.”

“Ugh. Stupid thing! Let’s just put in the new one so I can get this all sorted out.” You stressed.

You had tears in your eyes. Not from the pain of the needle entering your skin, or the sick feeling you’ve endured all day…but from the fact that you don’t get to have a normal day that’s carefree. Aaron has taken so much off your plate by being especially helpful with day-to-day things, but this feels like too much and you feel so alone in your illness.

“Alright honey, you’re all set.” Aaron began cleaning up all the trash from the new injection set.

“Thank you.”

“Hey sweetheart…” Aaron began. “I know that I will never be able to fully understand, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I want to help you in anyway I can, whether it’s changing your site for you, doing the dishes after a long day, or even just to give you a hug.”

Your tears were falling freely at his confession. You had never felt so seen, so weightless, so supported. You let your head fall back and your shoulders finally relaxed.

 “I love you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me Aaron.” You wrapped your arms around his middle.

“I love you too sweet girl.” Aarons arms enveloped you as his lips connect with your forehead.

[palskippah]

PLEASE I NEED SOMEONE TO DRAW AMBS AND BAL (MOVIE VERSION) ON THEIR WEDDING DAY KISSINF AGHHHH

HII I'm not good at drawing people kissing in the lips but I got these!!

References and some thoughts under the cut!

-One of the ways I imagine them marrying is through the civil (? whatever it's called in English), where Nimona would be right behind Ballister when he's signing like, sign, Ballister, sign the contract now! like that scene in Shrek 4 with Rumpelstiltskin

-Neither of them carried a bouquet, but they got one anyways just to throw it (Ambrosius did)

-Apparently in some Mexican weddings they throw the groom in the air to celebrate him and I love the idea, so both Ballister and Ambrosius get thrown in the air djfkdf

>(better if they're part of the crowd that is throwing them, and then it's them catching eachother when they fall aaa)

-Also the dancing, imagine it with any sort of music in the background and both of them dancing together and then just deciding to have fun on their own and doing whatever dance moves, even if they have nothing to do with the music (like there's cumbia sounding and Ambrosius is doing the gangnam style and Ballister is throwing it back or something 😭)

-They have a lot of fun wooo

-Also wanted to draw them in traditional clothes too wiwiw I hope you know what I mean with the 'groom pose' sjdksd both hands held in front of them

-Based this (unfinished) thingy on a TikTok I saw of 'if I (anxious person) were to get married' and thought of both of them but drew it with Ambrosius.

-It goes like:

Ambrosius: Hey! So- Just wanted to confirm, is the wedding still on? (Ballister answers) Ambrosius: Yes? (Ballister says something) Cool! I'll see you there then! Ambrosius, in his blue wedding clothes: I'll be the guy in blue. (Ballister says something) Yeah! Okay, bye, love you :D

>And at the other end of the thing, there was Ballister all nervously rambling to a very bored Nimona about what if Ambrosius calls it off last minute? Or what if he regrets marrying me right now? I can't just ask either, that'd be- and then there's the call and he's like, yes, it's still on! :D Yes I know, and remember I'll be wearing a dark sherwani. See you there, love you too :D

>And then they're both a bit more relaxed with that sjdfks (they're some rooms away from each other)

>[btw, those are supposed to be Ambrosius' moms helping him get the final details in his clothes done, like patting him to iron out the sleeves (they're ironed already) and placing his headwear and stuff]

-They're still pretty nervous tho, so, based in a video I watched, imagine them like:

Person marrying them: Now, I, Ballister. Ballister and Ambrosius, at the same time: I, Ballister- Ballister: ? I'm Ballister. Ambrosius: No, it's me. Ballister: Oh, okay. Ballister: No, wait what--

-Ambrosius: Hi, I'm Ballister's husband :D

>Ambrosius: This is my husband, Ballister. We're married :DD

>Ambrosius: We're the Goldenhearts :DDD

>>

-(some of the references)

That's it!

[dontopenfairies]

“Do you need to go potty?” She’s holding him loosely in her lap but he’s been getting wiggly and spacey over the last several minutes. “Do you want to go in your diaper? Oh, come on. Don’t hide your face. You have to tell me, honey.”

She lifts him up by the armpits and positions him so that he’s kneeling on the couch over her, legs straddling her thighs, knees on either side of her.

“This is usually your favorite way to do it, isn’t it? I know you don’t want to go in the toilet.”

He twists his hands together.

“Go ahead. It’s okay, honey. Nobody’s watching. Just…there you go.” She puts her arms on either side of his torso to support him.

He grunts quietly in the back of his throat and his hips start to thrust into the air between them as he pushes.

“Okay, that’s a little too sexy for you.”

He grunts again, and it turns into a low growl in his throat.

“Wayy too much. You look all hungry in the eyes. What happened to my sweet diaper boy?” She moves her hands down to his hips, holding them still. “Just mess your diaper. No humping. There. Are you all done?”

He hesitates, apparently unsure about sitting down in his mess.

“Okay, you need some help again, huh?” She pulls his hips down and he sits on her thighs, trying very hard not to squirm.

“I bet you’re really hard down there, aren’t you? I know, honey.” She finds the back of his hand and rubs it. “Turn around and sit facing out. Good boy.” He can’t resist and he shifts his weight a little bit, rubbing his diaper against her.

“Don’t try to get naughty on me. You don’t need to do that. You like diapers better, anyway. You’re all flustered from pooping your pants, not from seeing me naked or even me touching you…”

“You’re making it worse…” He tries to let go of her hand but she squeezes tighter.

“What’s going to happen if I make you cum, anyway? You’ll get tired out. And the fun will be over. Don’t you like this feeling better?”

He nods slowly.

“So it’s okay if we keep it going. I want to turn you drooly and docile and sweet. I want to see your eyes all glassy and your fingers in your mouth.”

He doesn’t say anything and she continues. “I don’t really need to touch your penis or have it touch me. This way is safer for both of us.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he whispers.

“I know, baby. You’re too sweet and gentle for that. That’s why you need diapers. That’s for sweet and gentle and obedient boys who need a little guidance. Right?”

“Yeah…”

She pushes her hands between his knees and the couch cushion, pulling his legs up. She pats his diaper between his legs with one hand while running her fingers through his hair with the other. She only does this for about a minute before pulling him really close to her and squeezing him tight.

“I bet I don’t need to touch you to get you even hotter. I’ll just tell you a story about a boy who never grew out of diapers, he never grew out of wanting to poop and pee in his pants, he had accidents all the time…sometimes real, sometimes on purpose, but always embarrassing. And he really, really wanted someone to rub his diaper, to let him hump it…”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh…”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning her head forward on his shoulder. “He didn’t like to have sex very much, he thought it was a little bit scary and embarrassing and sometimes even cried a little bit. Oh, be quiet, it’s true.”

“I’m…I’m sleepy or something, I think.” He let his head fall back onto her shoulder.

“We can go to bed soon. I’ll change you in a second. But don’t try to fool me by rubbing and humping under the covers. I can always tell when you’re doing that.”

“Stop…I don’t…”

“Riiiight. Right.” She squeezed him tighter against her body.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

a couple of people have asked for a carlos POV of in theory and actually. thinking about it. it's pretty funny. imagine being carlos, carlos who gets everything in his life he's ever wanted carlos, carlos who feels he has nothing further to prove to anyone carlos (this is a lie btw), carlos who gets saddled with OSCAR, who barely tolerates him, as an executive assistant.

oscar who shows few emotions. doesn't give a f about seniority. thinks carlos is incredibly arrogant (he's not wrong here but, like recognises like.) oscar who knows carlos can't even do his own expenses without having an emotional support espresso or spending half an hour whining to oscar even though he did it himself years before oscar even joined, etc etc.

and carlos has to. endure it. while oscar blatantly ignores his charm offensive and his attempts at being jovial and his bad bilingual puns and carlos, because everyone usually loves carlos, and he-- he just. he cannot for the life of him figure out why he's also so compelled by this australian dude. doesn't know what to do with himself. just keeps interactions to a transactional minimum and puts up a front like he is soooo curt and uncaring about everything but. the warmth seeps through anyway, a vine that's destined to grow despite his attempts not to let it.

so what, if carlos lies awake in bed with racing thoughts too late at night thinking of revenues and EBITDA and platinum tiers and air miles. so what, if this sometimes bleeds into thoughts regarding his work-life balance or lack thereof, and therefore, oscar's stupid little hair swoop, his frown. his insane excel sheet formulas that even carlos, MBA graduate, takes a second to understand. oscar and his indifference and his scary efficiency and the way he talks a bit too fast when he's tipsy and his ice cold hands.

(at the christmas party with yuki. carlos pretends not to listen but hears every word. why would oscar tell yuki all that, and not him, when he’s tried to ask about oscar's interests before? anyway.)

and then. the christmas gifts happen and carlos thinks he's crossed a line. was the terrarium too far, he wonders. normally people love it when carlos is thoughtful like that. his exes even said so. but no! oscar takes the terrarium, the one carlos made a specific detour for on an airline that he couldn't even get miles on!

and oscar just. stares, and stares at the terrarium. then he gives carlos this...look. and it gets embarrassingly intimate and carlos "really does have to go take his call" even though the client did say it is fine to switch to email because, christmas. yeah. and then he's thinking about it the whole way back to madrid too.

then oscar QUITS on CHRISTMAS DAY (rude) for no explainable reason and carlos is like oh my god is it really ME. how can anybody not like ME ? reddit, AITA???

so carlos mulls on it. carlos wants to atone. just maybe. set things straight. let oscar know that. actually. all feelings aside, he was really an excellent EA and carlos wishes him the best with everything. he maybe sends a text to thank him with those very words. but christmas eve comes and goes, and so does christmas day, and there's no reply at all from oscar. what the hell, carlos thinks. no i can't have him leave and there's so much in my email that i – i didn't even say. he just. needs to let oscar know that he appreciated it.

(he doesn't know what "it" is per se. just that. he feels strongly. so he needs to do something about that.)

soooooo then carlos, who values for family more than anything in the world, spends christmas day just only half paying attention to things going on and thinking jesus, what did i do. and his sisters are like, hermano, please just. get it together and sort this out if you care so much. we'll be fine with mamá and papá and piñón okay there's roast ham for days. and his ma is like: "if you are visiting someone at least pack some dessert. where are your manners". and carlos is like "what". and his mum is like: "did i not teach you anything at all. are you or are you not a sainz". so carlos just takes his tiramisu and his sister's teasing and. he goes. might even try to pull a favour from a client to use a private jet and get there in time.

he flies back to the city in a fit of possible stupidity to try and clarify... his feelings for oscar his professional record and integrity.

and then. oscar is. actually HAPPY he is there.

(carlos knows he's happy, not because oscar's face changes. but because oscar puts his actual plant shears down in order to talk to him. which in oscar-world is a very big deal really. before, oscar always used to look like he wanted to stab carlos with a pen when carlos spoke to him. and if carlos were truly honest with himself, and hindsight being 50/50, well– he'd say that actually, the times oscar looked like he wanted to stab him were actually some of the moments he felt most alive.)

and the rest is... well.

you know how it ends.

[bbgghost]

forwards beckon rebound

“i’m not afraid of you now…” 

summary: coriolanus and you are put in an arranged marriage, despite your significant age difference. you have to learn to become more comfortable with him. 

a.n. reader is pregnant!!! angst to fluff, sad reader - hope you guys like these! i sometimes forget i have followers… anyways hope this is what you want to read if there is anything you want to read more of send me a request!!!

you rubbed your hands under your round belly, attempted to warm the stretched part of your body. the soft material of your dress pressed against your hand became a nice grounding tool as you took deep breaths. the tears that had been falling from your eyes steadily slowed and you finally managed to get your emotions under way. without your choked sobs and wet hiccups you were finally able to here the sound of footsteps approaching your door. 

you turned to your vanity and quickly wiped any visible tears from under your eyes. “madam?” you heard from the door. “yes.” you replied, trying to present your voice as clear and sweet. “the president wishes to see you.” the peace keeper said politely. “of course.” you said in agreement before standing to walk from your room. you followed the maid down the hall and into coriolanus’ large room.

when you entered you saw him sat at his lounge space, papers in his lap and a mug in his hand. “darling…” he called softly as his eyes traced over your figure. you had stopped at the door of his room, but with his greeting you made your way into his space. “president snow.” you said politely and stood in front of him. he rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand to guide you to sit next to him. “that’s way too formal, i’m your husband.”

you swallowed at the comment and looked down at your manicured nails. you traced the paint that encompassed the nail bed and listened as coriolanus placed the papers on the table before turning his body towards yours. “tell me about your day.” you looked up at him through your lashes.” “i…nothing much really happened. i…picked some roses and…well besides bathing and doing my hair i didn’t do anything interesting.” you said before giggling quietly. 

“sounds exhilarating.” he joked. you gave him a small smile and he returned it. “well, per usual, i was busy as ever. so nothing interesting there.” you smiled and looked away. he hit his lip in thought. he wanted your attention desperately, he craved it, he deserved it - he’d been working hard all day this was all he wanted. “i missed you.” he said simply. your eyes snapped to him, and in the confusing and longing, that’s where he saw it. 

“…you’ve been crying.” he spoke softly. your eyes widened and you looked down and rubbed your eyes profusely, in a stupid attempt to rid your eyes of the pain. “no.” you croaked, broken attempt at speaking through the oncoming tears. “baby, why?” he asked, his arms coming up to encompass you. 

“i don’t…i just…ugh.” you sighed and sat straighter as you looked at him helplessly. “i don’t know, it’s probably just pregnancy hormones.” you laughed through tears. “are you sure? i mean…you were acting strange even before the pregnancy?” you looked to the side, contemplating what he said. “I didn’t think you’d noticed.”

He let what you said hang in the air. His body stiffened, any moment immediately ceased. He swallowed harshly, and suddenly you felt even worse. Different, but worse. “I’m sorry I said that.” Your tears still fell, but there was a silence with the absence of your sobs. “I’m sorry that you ever felt like it was what you needed to say.”

He wanted to say so much more; I’m sorry you were forced into this marriage, I’m sorry you were so young when it happened, I’m sorry you have the burden of the country’s opinions on your shoulder, I’m sorry I wouldn’t do anything but watch it all happen to you. “You didn’t. I swear.” You pleaded.

“C’mon baby. Don’t lie.” You quieted down. Your tears had finally stopped falling, and where instead replaced with the defeated look was plastered on your face. Like a child who finally realised they weren’t getting their parents attention. “I swear I love you. I care about you.” You pleaded. Why were you pleading this? This was the man you were married to, he didn’t expect your love or care. It was all part of being official. It was all part of benefitting the man that ran his soft thumb over the back of your hand.

“If you care, then tell me what’s wrong. And tell me the truth.” And he had said it with so much force and determination it sounded like he already knew. But even as you turned your head to make eye contact, you could see that boyish look. The one that told you he was desperate to find the problem, and to help you get to the solution. “I’m just overwhelmed. There’s this baby growing within me… and I feel like I barely know you. I’m finally comfortable around you, and I finally love you. But do you love me? I mean I don’t even know your family, I haven’t seen your childhood home, I don’t even know what you look like when you sleep. And I’m carrying your child?”

His expression had turned stone cold. You were afraid now. Had you said too much? You should’ve kept your mouth shut, but for some reason you had told him. You told him what he wanted though, and that was the whole and complete truth. After many moments of silence his eyes tore from yours and he hopelessly looked towards your conjoined hands. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. He portrayed the look of somebody with little thoughts, like he was speechless. But within his head his thoughts were speeding around. You feel like you barely know him? You don’t know if he loves you?

Then he’s reminded you’re only 20. And he’s reminded that he’s 27. And suddenly he remembers how emotional and full of passion he was at your age. He was pushing thirty, and growing cold just like he was old, and he was only projecting this on you. No matter how many chaste kisses, or late nights of talking, or eating together daily - you needed one thing, and that was passion. 

“I’m so sorry.” He said, and his eyes finally looked back up to find yours. You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed to even form thoughts of your own. His hands lifted away from yours, and he encompassed your jaw with them instead. You felt light fingertips brush against your cheeks and pull you softly towards him. He closed his eyes, and you reciprocated the action before your lips met. And it was the most affectionate kiss you had ever felt in your life. He was soft, but leaned into you so much you knew that he was trying to tell you something. That he hadn’t meant to, and that he had only wanted to provide for you, even if he had made mistakes while doing so. 

When he finally broke from it, your eyelids took a moment to flutter open. He pulled you towards him again, once your eyes had finally been revealed and he held you against him. Your head tucked under his chin, and his lips pressed against your hair. “I promise, I’ll make it up to you…” 

[dixonsbrat]

𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩 — send in any character from my masterlist + a prompt from one of the lists ( fluff , angst , smut ) for a blurb.

❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜ with babygirl daryl dixon <33

── .✦  𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 ┆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; you see daryl smile for the first time in a while.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; daryl dixon x reader , alexandria era, just lots of fluff.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 1.5k .ᐟ

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; this was only supposed to be a lil blurb but i got carried away writing for my scrumdidlyumpcious mans *sighs dreamily*

you were sitting alone on the front porch as the rest of alexandria slept soundlessly around you. the air was warm against your skin with only the slightest breeze. it was the perfect night to sit under the stars and just let yourself breathe for once.

though, the small moment of peace is interrupted when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. they were soft against the wood, yet making it creak beneath them, and you don’t need to turn to know who it was.

daryl slowly sat down beside you, sinking onto the step you were on, and leaning his head against the pillar behind him. he looked tired, more tired than usual. dark circles encapsulated his otherwise icy blue eyes, and there was a slumpiness to his shoulders.

"can't sleep?" you tilt your head to the side slightly, turning so that you too were leaning against a pillar now and facing him onward.

“nah,” he murmured, his drawl thick and heavy with exhaustion. it was clear that something was weighing down on him. perhaps the same thing that had even been disrupting his sleep.

you give it a moment to see if he would tell you what was wrong on his own accord, but this was daryl, and he wasn't one to talk about his feelings or express his troubles without prompting. he rarely spoke much anymore as it was, not compared to how he used to anyway.

watching as his gaze pans off to your surroundings, taking in the other houses along the street and the trees that were rustling in the wind, you can’t help but wonder what’s got him so stuck in his head. there was a clear distance in his eyes that you had only ever seen a few times before, but there was no telling what could be the cause of it.

eventually, you gently nudge his leg with your foot to get his attention, "what’s going on in that big ole head'o yours? and don't tell me it’s 'nothing'."

daryl’s eyes flickered towards you as you nudged his leg, as if being pulled back to reality for a brief moment. he looked away again, the darkness outside seeming to be easier to focus on than actually having to talk. he knew it was only because you cared and he, of course, didn’t want to worry you. you already worried about him enough as it was.

“it’s just…” he begins after a few moments, but stops, shaking his head. it was clear by the tension in his jaw that he was really bothered by whatever it was.

"hey, you can talk to me." you say, offering him solace for his thoughts.

he glances over at you, seeing the genuine concern in your eyes. he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid telling you, not when he knew how stubborn you could be and that you probably wouldn’t leave him alone until he gave you some sort of an explanation. he takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts into words before responding.

“it’s just… it’s been a lot,” he finally mutters, his voice low and gruff in the air.

you sit forward now, no longer leaning on the pillar behind you as you rest your hands in your lap, "what has?"

he rubs a hand over his face, frustrated, though not at you. never at you. his shoulders slump a bit more and it makes him look even more exhausted. “everything,” he answers after a short pause, the word simple enough, but you knew well enough that he wasn’t talking about just his tired state. he shakes his head, looking back out towards the small settlement, not really focusing on anything in particular. “jus’ feelin’ a bit… weighed down lately. i guess.”

you nod along softly as he speaks, taking in his words and letting him know that you were listening, "is there anything i can do to help?"

he can’t help but feel a swell of warmth in his chest as you offer your assistance. you always cared so much, cared about him. it made his heart feel full for the first time in a while. but he was stubborn, and even now it was difficult for him to admit that he needed support sometimes. the feeling of being a burden loomed over him constantly as that’s what he was accused of being growing up.

he shook his head slightly, still not looking at you, though a small part of him wanted to. “you do enough,” he mumbled.

“daryl, i’m serious. what can i do to help?” you move forward on the step a little, your knees hitting his now. “do you want me to take up some of your runs? will that help make you feel better?”

his brow furrows as you press the question again, his jaw tensing. he felt stuck between letting you help and being his stubborn self that tried to push everything away. though hearing you offer to take up some of his runs, a part of him considered accepting, which surprised even himself.

he was silent for a moment before speaking again in a hushed, gruff voice, the words almost being strained from his mouth, “i don’t… i don’t wanna ask things of you.”

“don’t be silly. i care about you, and i don’t want to see you run yourself into the ground.” you place a hand on his knee and give it a little squeeze. you hated how stubborn he could be, how he always pushed away the help that he clearly so desperately needed. “you do that and then who else am i going to annoy, huh?”

daryl stiffens a bit at the touch of your hand on his knee. it’s unexpected and he could feel the warmth through his jeans. he knew you wanted to help him and he knew you cared, but he was too used to being self-sufficient. yet, there was something about you, something that made him want to let his guard down and accept you. to allow your kindness to seep through the many walls that he’d built over the years.

so, after a short pause, he lets out an exhausted sigh and the faintest smile graces his lips, “mhm, cause i’m the only one that puts up with ya.”

"okay, wow. rude." you scoff a laughter, and shove his knee with the hand that was still on it. you let out a small sigh after a moment, before meeting daryl’s gaze once more. you don’t say anything, not for a second, you just wanted to take him in. "y'know, i don't think i've ever seen you smile. not like that anyway.”

he was surprised when you shoved his knee, more surprised by the fact that he didn’t expect to enjoy it. he lets out a small huff of a laugh at your reaction. though, the moment is short lived when you mention his smile and it quickly fades, the tension from earlier returning to his jaw.

“yeah, well, i ain’t much of a smilin’ kinda guy,” he says, shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing.

you let your gaze fall to your lap, your fingers idly playing with a loose thread on your pants. “maybe you should be. you have a nice smile,” you shrug, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks immediately.

daryl’s heart suddenly seems to jump inside his chest at your comment, the words catching him off guard. no one had ever said that he had a nice smile before. though, coming from you, it seemed to hit him hard in a way that he had never felt before.

the smallest touch of pink spreads across his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he glances to the side, avoiding your gaze as you look back up at him. “shut up,” he mumbled under his breath, the words without any malice just more embarrassed than anything.

“i’m being serious. i like your smile,’ you admit, causing not only yours, but daryl’s heart to race even more.

the honesty in your statement causes him to look back at you, his heart slamming against his chest. the sight of how sincere you are causes his stomach to twist and yet, he feels as if he could melt into the wooden steps beneath him.

“… shut up,” he says again, though it’s said with less embarrassment and more just overwhelmed feelings, and the faintest hint of a smile returns to his lips.

you just shake your head, and roll your eyes, at his reaction. he was so cute whenever he got flustered, and you enjoyed the fact of knowing you were the one that had caused it. though, you decide not to push him any further and leave it, letting yourselves enjoy the rest of the quiet before you knew you had to eventually head back inside.

[futurewriter2000]

Favours

pt. 1

A/N: I AM BACK! For a while, I guess. I should have been studying statistics but this is just more fun. I am back from the dead however and I am back to writing. New Years resolutions and such. Well, this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I decided to do it. I wanted to do a one part but I just can't because... well, things took a turn lmao. Hope you like it!

PAIRING: Sirius Black x reader

REQUEST: hi! this is my first time requesting anything so like hello. hru. anyways i wanted to request a sirius black x reader where the reader and sirius are best friends but the reader has feelings for him and confesses. but then sirius doesn't feel the same way at the time. but then he starts to fall in love with her and he feels kinda stupid i guess lmao, for not accepting the confession

XX

It was not every day classes got cancelled, but today seemed to be a good day after all. You slept in and spent most of your morning in your bed doing absolutely nothing. You haven't even cleaned your room, nor yourself and it was already 2pm but like you thought before, it's not every day classes get cancelled. Not that you had a lot of homework to be done, but still, you just wanted to take some rest.

Hogwarts was your home. More than the place you go to every holidays and summer vacation. The sound of rain and boys imitating airplanes was the one thing that made you believe you really were experiencing a good time. Mostly because hearing boys be boys was making you laugh all the time. It was why you hung out with most of them.

But not today. Today you have been just inside your own comfort zone.

---

"And where the hell have you been?!" a boy has shouted from the other side of the class as you entered into his eyesight.

"Heaven and beyond." you stretched your arms and smiled. "Best day ever."

"I sent you like a million letters and all I get back was a 'nah'?" he glared at you.

"What did you expect? A whole essay?" you sat next to him and said hi to the rest of the group. "Plus I heard you boys from the other side of the dormitory. You haven't missed me at all."

"You think I need you to enjoy my time?"

"No. I think you need me to have the best time of your life, not only enjoy." you grinned at him, hugging your books and knocking his shoulder as you made your way to your seat. You plopped yourself down and smiled at the empty board. It felt like a breath of fresh air to be rested and back at the classroom- even if it was only for one day.

He plopped himself next to you and tried to push you off your chair but you only pushed back. It was an already won war- he was absolutely stronger than you and both of you knew it, he just liked to pretend that you have a shot. With a wink, he pushed you off your chair but caught you by the arm to pull you back up before your bottom left the chair. Laughter filled the competitive void between the two of you and he just leaned to you and whispered. "I missed you... even if it was for a day." his eyes glinted with overjoy and you felt a familiar sensation in your stomach.

Anxiety? Or butterflies...? Never-the-less, it made you happy and uncomfortable at the same time.

"Have you really?" you eyed him, half joking, half serious.

"Between you and me?" he eyed you back, matching your energy and tensing the air between the two of you. "You were on my mind all day."

You stared at him lustfully and he pretty much did the same but that air was quickly cut by the entrence of the professor. The two of you continued to stare at each other and all that came to your mind was the words 'I love you so much, you don't even know.'. But those words could and should not be ever spoken out loud. Never.

It drove you insane though, every moment of it. Every single interaction with him for the past year since he has grown taller and muscular, his bone structure defined and his hair longer. His confidence rose with passing time but you never wanted to admit it to yourself. It was no denying it- for the past year, you had been pinning over this boy like a lost puppy and it showed more, day by day.

Did he know?

Was he playing with you? - No, he wasn't the one to play games with you. Not ever.

But maybe if you grew some balls and confess, maybe he did feel the same way? He surely acted like he did.

---

The next day there was a whole group of you in the common room, far from the fireplace. There were only two lamps bringing light to the table where some were reading, some were writing homework and some were just playing cards to pass the time. The rain was just as common as the mist and the darkness loomed over all the students and their moods for the past day. Though it as almost night and you couldn't help yourself but to stare at him over your crossword puzzle

He was sitting on the sofa by the lamp and it absolutely threw perfect shade of light onto his dark features. His eyes disappeared with the light but his dark eyelashes and his dark eyebrows brought out the sharp tones to his face.

Maybe he likes you too? - you thought for a moment. You drew your foot to his thigh and poked it gently.

He raised his finger as he continued to read the last paragraph of his book and slowly looked at you with a lovely smile. "Yes, sweet soul."

"Do you want to go get some snacks from the kitchen?" you asked, leaning the crossword puzzle over your nose and peering over it.

He tilted his head sweetly and smiled. "I would love too."

"Bring me some dry apple slices." said James without looking up from his homework.

"Dry apple slices? What are you? A deer?" said Sirius, grinning mischiviously at him.

James raised his head slowly, his eyebrows drew together in an annoyed look. "For your information, I have to keep an athletic build for Quidditch."

"I'd like some dark chocolate." said Remus.

"Bring me some coconut cookies." Peter added.

"I would love some refreshing lemonade." added Lily.

"What am I? Your bartender?" you asked and they all smiled.

"There's two of you with two perfectly working hands, so I'd say get creative." James winked. "And don't do something stupid." he added.

You rolled your eyes and Sirius flipped him off, but as you walked in front of Sirius, your smile broadened.

The two of you walked out of the room and into the cooled off hallway. Your cheeks lit up from the previous heat and the sudden cold. His cheeks did exactly the same and it looked wonderfully aesthetic on him- or those were just your rose-colored glasses.

He bumped into you playfully, his arms tucked into his sweatpants. You bumped back, smiling. Your stomach twisted inside of you, churning from anxiety and you couldn't even stop what happened next.

"Hey Sirius." you stopped and he made a few steps forward before turning around for you. His eyes were tired, but they always looked at you so lovingly. As if he just adored you so much. You looked away for a moment, playing with your fingers, but there was something in his eyes that felt so safe. "We're friends, right?"

"Best." he swang his feet forward, grinning. He stopped less than an inch away from you. He put his hands on your shoulders. "Aren't you cold?" he rubbed his hands down your arms.

You chuckled and looked up at him. "Have you ever thought... that we could be more than best friends?" you continued to smile, biting your lip out of habit.

His hands fell back to his side and his smile faded. It was like a shot to the chest for you because you knew that whatever he decided to say next wasn't going to sound great for your ears. He was already further away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"(y/n)..." he dragged your name from his mouth awkwardly.

"Oh..." was all that you said. "I just thought..."

"No..." he continued in the same akward tone as he said your name before. "I don't see you that way."

"Oh..." you looked away, feeling something rise up from your stomach to your throat. "I think I'm going to be sick..." you said outloud to yourself.

"It's not that anything is wrong with you- you're amazing." he came to your aid as you turned around and hugged your arms. "Really amazing- I just never thought- I never- I..." he started to lose words to say. "I didn't know you liked me like that..." he finished, looking at the floor and sighing.

"It's fine." you forced a smile, though your eyes continued to glisten but you hadn't shed a tear... not yet at least. "Let's just get those crackheads their food and forget this ever happened- PAL!" you hit his shoulder- stronger than you anticipated.

You walked in front of him, looking up at the ceiling an preventing your tears to fall from your eyes. Though your eyes were completely soaked in tears, your throat was too dry to say anything.

The rest of the trip, the two of you spent in silence. Coming back, the two of you plopped back to your own seats and picked up where you left off.

The others didn't even notice. James was already melting with the table, his eyes barely opened meanwhile the others just got stuck in a deep conversation.

---

You couldn't handle the embarrassment of it. You couldn't face him, and when you did it was like a breathless hiccup that made you hold your breath for a little too much. Your eyes would just look at each other for a while, but both of you couldn't say a word.

Slowly, the others started to realize the awkward tension and you couldn't really know, if Sirius told them or not. You didn't tell anybody. You kept the embarrassment to yourself and if you did tell somebody, well,.., your friends are his friends and everything comes around so easily.

And it happened so innocently- when you started to distance yourself from the group. You've tried to keep your cool, but it was as if they knew. You couldn't be sure of it, but there was a feeling that loomed. The way they quieted around you- when suddenly the silence became too loud. You've tried to be yourself, but it just didn't matter and slowly but surely, you pulled away and it felt lonely.

You felt furious at yourself. If only you could have kept it to yourself but then you would have been blinded by love all this time- so as badly as it was, it was also liberating to do it. You've also noticed that most of them pulled to his side- even though there was no fight, no drama, just a casual conversation between two friends.

Remus was the most normal. You could have seen it in his eyes, but where there was Remus, there was James and nobody could really talk about what really happened, even though everybody wanted to know.

Sirius could see it in your mood. He could notice the way you held yourself. He noticed the faded smile, but it didn't feel like heartbreak, more like disappointment. He didn't want the friendship to end, he didn't think it would, even after the conversation that was held, he thought the two of you could pretend that nothing happened but it was as if somebody shot a bullet through his head and now he had nothing to say to you. He felt as if anything he would do, would indicate to you that he might like you and he didn't want that. He didn't like you.

So you pulled away and Sirius... he missed you. He saw you less and less, day by day.

He had his friends. He did.. but the conversations he had with them were different than with you. The energy shifted and he felt safe and comfortable with you in a way, he didn't with his friends.

So, his mood changed as well but contrast to you, he hid it well. So when you saw him all chirpy and as if nothing really changed, you felt your mood lower.

You made your way to them with a big force pulling you back. Every step... counted to another step to...

"Hey (y/n)!" somebody called out your name and you turned around to see, who might be.

You turned to your table, but you saw no Gryffindor calling your name. He called your name again and you realised it came from the other table.

To your absolute surprise it was- "Nott?" your eyebrows furrowed.

You didn't dislike Nott, but you neither not disliked him. He was nice to you- as nice as Slytherins can be. He was a handsome boy though. His dark hair was slicked back, long strands of gelled hair falling over his forehead.

"Can I ask a favor from you?" his smile was broad and white. He had almost perfect teeth, but the horrible gossip you heard of him, even those perfect teeth could not make you like him.

"I don't remember doing any favors from you." your eyes furrowed. "I don't even remember if you acknowledged my existence in all seven years." you kept your eyebrows furrowed.

His eyes sparkled when you had said that and he quickly got up. "I know... I apologise for that but-" he looked around, his friends giving the same mischivious grin as he did. "Let us talk somewhere else." he threw his hand over your shoulder casually but you quickly gave him a look that made him remove it.

"Why would I go anywhere with you?" as the two of you walked further from the group. "I don't trust you." you kept your voice serious and low.

His face changed immediately. It wasn't so confident and mischivious. It was worriesome and... nervous?

He was tall but not as lanky. His black jacket and slicked back hair, his eyes dark as the darkest shade of brown can get stopped sparkling. It almost made you let your guard down.

"It's embarrassing to ask you this..." he started and your crossed your arms over and leaned back, your eyes narrowing in suspicion. "My dad... he works with yours."

"I know that."

"I know..."

"And your father is respected in the community."

"Meaning he's a rich pureblood in your language." you snarked back and his eyes looked at you, wide and then they narrowed.

"You know what... forget it." his voice lowered into a stern, sharp tone. "I really thought you were different than those sore losers, you hang out with."

"Are you really calling my friends sore losers when trying to get a favor from me?" you scoffed.

He turned around and slicked back his hair.

He walked very fast to you and stopped a breath away. You could smell his cologne and you could almost feel his heartbeat through the air. "Are they really your friends? Because friends don't treat you the way they do for the past few weeks."

You felt speechless but you also felt frozen by his presence. "I didn't want to ignore your existance. I prayed 7 years ago that the Sorting Hat would bring you to our table but the moment you chose their company, you turned into them."

You felt guilty by that... it did happen like that but you were 11 years old and desperate for a group to belong to. So you did what every kid does- you blended.

"Why did you want me to be sorted to your house?" you whispered and his eyes focused on yours.

"Why do you think?" he whispered lower than you.

"HEY!" there was a shout behind him and in a flash, those brown eyes disappeared from your view.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, turnedh him around and threw a fist his way.

Nott flew the other way and you looked in front who it was- contrast to Nott's dark, there was a pair of light eyes, burning with fire. He looked at you, eyes wide and worried. "Are you okay?"

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!" you shouted and rushed to Nott's aid. "WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU PUNCH HIM?!" you shouted.

"He was cornering you."

"He was not cornering me!!" you shouted back, lifting Nott's pretty face. No blood, just a slowly appearing swollen lump on his cheek. You turned sharply back at Sirius, James and Remus, even Peter standing behind him. "We were just talking!" you snarled back. "Are you okay?" you turned back to Nott, who was only smiling.

"I'm perfect, Love." he said back as he started to get up. "Quite a throw there, Black."

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" you threw fire his way.

"I was protecting you!" Sirius shouted back but you only felt more furious by the second.

"Fuck you!" you flipped him off and walked away with Nott. "Let's put some cold on that."

---

You sat in the Slytherin common room. Your legs were up on the armchair with you and you faced Nott on the two-seat couch, looking at you with a bag of peace on his cheek.

For a moment, you thought the Slytherins liked the cold but the room was rather cold and the silver-green tones gave a nice silhouette to the area. It was like this invisible veil that oozed you to serenity. Time felt as if it didn't exist.

"Is there a charm in the room?" you asked eventually and Nott smiled.

"No, not really... or if there is nobody really told us about it but it's nice." he answered.

"Not too shabby." you shrugged casually, though you felt quite impressed by it.

He chuckled, leaning forward and looking at the floor.

"I'm sorry about the... you know... my loser friends." you bit your lip and he looked up with his dark eyes.

"So now you admit they're losers?" he raised an eyebrow.

"About what they did without reason, I'm willing to call them that for this exception."

He kept watching you for a long pause at the end of your sentence. "I don't think there was no reason." he said and leaned back on the couch. "There was definitely a reason." he stretched.

"Like what?"

"Like that Black has the hots for you."

You bulged your eyes and laughed. "Hah! No... no he doesn't." you shook your head in disbelief.

"Oh, yeah? So there is just no way that he punched me when he saw me leaning close to you?"

"There is no way, yes." you admitted and he observed carefully.

He could see your face force a smile but there was something shameful behind it. So he shook his head and chuckled lightly.

"That's why then..." he said and broadened his smile.

"What do you mean?"

"You told him you fancied him and he rejected you." he blurted out.

Your eyebrows narrowed and you felt your guard build up immediately. "Excuse me."

"Oh, come on. It's written all over you."

"How would you even conclude all of that from my face?"

"Because I fancied you since the First Year and I thought I never stood a chance to Sirius Black- because from the way I saw it, you and him were like meant to be at some point. But it's been what? Seven years and he rejected you?"

You felt your cheeks burn up. "You fancied me?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely." he said as a matter a fact and you sat there quietly. He gazed at you for a moment. "How about... I do you a favor and you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"I show you that he fancies you and you help me with my father situation." his eyes shimmered in the light, his light red bruise matching his perfect dark brown pallete and let's be honest... how would you not be intrigued.

[reixtsu]

Chapter 2: A Small ‘Reunion’

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wk: 2.5k

You would forever curse to the Aeons above about those god-forsaken eyes. The perfect blend of cyan and magenta imprinted in his eyes as he raked over your frame. Your breath hitched, all the memories of him flooding your brain like a river. That night, the one night you let loose in all of your life, the night you met the damned gambler.

You bit your lip, putting on your perfectly orchestrated smile on display. "A little chat?" Your hand instinctively went over your son's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "I'm afraid I am busy at the moment, Aventurine."

Aventurine chuckled, one that was low and sultry, only making it harder for you to keep your composure.

"Really now? I promise it won't take much of your time. After all, time is money, and I'm sure we both value that, friend," aeons you forgot how hot his voice was to you, how it seemed to wrap around you and tug at your heart strings. A dangerous man he was.

A curt nod was all you gave him, not bothering to look him directly in his eyes. You couldn't look at him even if he asked, his beauty too dangerous for his own good.

"How's life?"

"You interrupt my work time for a life question?"

Another chuckle. "Of course not. I'm just curious," he glanced down at Hajime, then back at you, his piercing gaze reading your every move. "Life as a Stellaron Hunter must be rough, going here and about."

You scoffed, shooting him a sharp glare. "So you found out, hm?"

"It was my intuition. I remember when we first met you seemed to have an air of dangerous mystery. Your son, or, our son more accurately," He leaned forwards, whispering the last part in your ear before backing away. "Gave me a few helpful hints about your occupation. Thanks for that by the way, Hajime. Have some credits as my thanks."

And just like that, Aventurine handed 10,000 credits in cash to your son like it was nothing, like a simple lolipop you get from a doctor. Hajime's eyes widened, full of joy as his tiny hands gladly accepted his gift. "Thank you so-"

"Throwing money away like it's nothing. How typical of you," with careful and skilled hands, you took the money away from Hajime, hearing him gasp in horror, begging to have the money. Nevertheless you ignored him, passing the money back to Aventurine with a nonchalant shrug.

Aventurine's gloved hands pushed the money back at you, his lips only curving upwards some more. "It's his. I have enough in my pocket."

With a sigh and an eye-roll, you surrendered, passing the money back to your son. You peered at Aventurine, wondering why the hell you were obeying the request of an IPC Stoneheart official when the both of you were technically enemies. If it were anyone else, you would have shoved the money down their throat and walked away like nothing happened. You didn't need money anyways, and you hated people who threw money around like nothing.

Despite everything, you gave Aventurine a calm smile. "Well then, if that is all then we really must be going." You turned to face your son, who was holding your hand tightly. "And you, never run away like that again! You and Silverwolf will get a long lecture after this."

Hajime whined, begging you to not lecture them yet again. Aventurine, ever the charming one, waved you off with that handsome smile of his. "Until next time, y/n." And with that the two of you made your separate ways.

------

Man you really hate that man's face.

Why did Aventurine have to look the way he did? Like some sort of princely chartlan. Why did your heart race at the mere thought of him? Why was his voice so tantalizing? Why were his eyes so mesmerizing-

Okay y/n, focus on your own damn life. You're a Stallaron Hunter. Aventurine is an IPC, the enemy. You couldn't go around showing anyone that you were weak for a... man.

"What's wrong, sweetie? You've been fidgety ever since we left the last planet," Kafka's sultry voice cut your train of thought, causing you to jolt in surprise.

Your eyes scanned her momentarily, taking in her magenta hair being down instead of her usual tied up hair, then looked back into random space. "Nothing. Just wondering the best way to lecture Silverwolf. I swear, I'm never trusting her with my son again."

She laughed, covering her mouth in an elegant way. "Of course you are," her calculating, lazy eyes looked across the room to where Silverwolf was bugging Firefly to play some sort of game with her. "Firefly or Bladie would have been the best candidates to watch over Hajime."

You hummed, your eyes following the scene. "Say, are Firefly and Stelle finally dating?"

"I don't think so."

"Really? Man, they're slow."

Another chuckle erupted the room as both you and Kafka laughed.

“Well Hajime is already in bed, so I should go too. Long day,” you waved off to Kafka, blowing her a kiss as you made your way into your bedroom.

----

Memory 1

The casino was a world unto itself-a haven of chaos and vice where time seemed to blend into one big milkshake. Neon signs flickered and danced against the polish marble walls, advertising extravagant prizes and promising riches to those who were bold-or foolish-enough to try their luck. The scent of cigar smoke linger in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of alcohol and the faint aroma of expensive cologne. High stake gamblers leaned over green felt tables, their whispers lost to the symphony of clinking chips and spinning roulette wheels. Everything hummed with energy, one that seeped into your skin and settled within your bones.

You sat at the far end of a bar, a single glass of milk in your hand. Funny because the drink looked absurdly out of place amidst the sea of martinis, whiskeys, and champagne flutes. Despite this, you paid no mind to the occasional glances that were shot your way.

Today Elio's script hadn't called for action yet, so you were biding your time, your expression impassive. The white liquid swirled lazily as you tilted the glass, the coolness of it soothing your warm fingertips.

"Milk in a casino?"

The voice, deep and smooth like molten gold, broke through the peaceful alone time you had. You didn't bother to glance up right away, letting the speaker, whoever he was, to stew in his curiosity a little longer. When you finally lifted your gaze, you were met with striking cyan and magenta eyes framed by blond lashes.

Aventurine.

He leaned casually against the bar, his sharp suit catching the ambient light just enough to highlight the quality of his tailoring. His eyes, framed by the slight shadow of his lashes, gleamed with mischief and calculation.

"You have a problem with it?" you asked, your tone flat as the marble countertop beneath your fingers.

He chuckled, leaning an elbow on the bar as he studied you with those charming eyes of his. For some reason you couldn't take your eyes away from them. "Not at all. It's refreshing, really. Most people here are drowning themselves in overpriced scotch, trying to look important or trying to drown in their problems. You? You're making a statement.'

"I just don't drink," you said simply, taking another long sip of your milk.

He grinned, his sharp teeth catching the light. "Fair enough. But you stick out, you know. Hard not to notice someone drinking milk in a place like this."

You raised an eyebrow, licking the milk off your lips and meeting his gaze head-on. "And you decided to comment because...?"

"Because you caught my eye," he admitted without hesitation, his grin widening. You didn't miss the fact that his gaze flickered onto your lips then back to you eyes. "You don't seem like the type to hang around a casino for fun. I'm curious, what brings you here?"

He wasn't wrong about the fact that you usually avoided places like casinos. Quickly keeping in mind that this man's observation skills were next level, you shrugged, your expression unreadable. "The ambiance."

He barked out a laugh, drawing a few curious glances from nearby patrons. "Ambiance, huh? Well, if you're not here for the drinks, then how about the games?" He gestured toward the poker tables behind you, where players sat with their faces carefully neutral, their chips piled high. "What do you say? Care to join me in a hand or two?"

You studied him for a moment, your gaze flickering over the way he carried himself-confident, but not arrogant. Calculating, but not cold. There was a spark in his eyes, a gleam that suggested he lived for the thrill of the gamble. In all honesty, it was kind of hot to say the least. You could feel his curiosity radiating off him, matching your own guarded intrigue.

"Sure," you said finally, setting your glass down and stood up. "Why not?'

Aventurine led you to a table with the air of someone who owned the place. To be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if he did. As you took your seat, the dealer shuffled the cards with practiced precision, and Aventurine gestured for the game to begin.

From the first hand it became clear that Aventurine was no amateur. His moves were precise, his bets calculated, and his handsome poker face flawless. You tried your hardest to not look at him too much, your thoughts would stray too much if you did. As the game progressed, you saw the faintest flicker in his expression-curiosity, amusement, and something that almost resembles excitement.

Your strategy-or rather lack thereof-was throwing him off. While he made carefully calculated moves, you played with an almost reckless abandon, tossing in chips at seemingly random moments and going all-in when it made no logical sense. Yet, somehow, you managed to hold your own, winning just enough to keep him on edge.

"You're either the luckiest person I've ever met who is luckier than me, or you've got some kind of twisted strategy that I can't figure out," he said, leaning back in his chair and studying you with a mix of admiration and suspicion.

You smirked faintly, your eyes glinting in rare amusement. "Maybe I just like keeping you guessing, pretty boy."

He laughed again, a genuine, a deep sound that made your heart flutter. "Fair enough. But don't think for a second that I'm going to let you win this."

The game continued, the pile of chips in front of your ebbing and flowing like the low tide. Aventurine's eyes never left you, his curiosity growing with every unpredictable move you made. As the game wore on, you found yourself equally intrigued by him-his sharp wit, his easy charm.

"I'll tell you what," he said, breaking the moment, "why don't we raise the stakes? Winner buys the loser a drink-milk for you, of course."

"Trying to get me drunk on calcium?" you asked dryly, earning another laugh from him.

"Something like that," he said, his grin widening, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Or maybe I want an excuse to keep you around a little longer, friend."

The word lingered in the air, teasing yet intimate, and it sent a shiver trailing down your spine. You didn't reply, couldn't-the rapid pounding of your heart robbed you of the ability to even speak a word. But your lips curved into a faint smile, betraying you. His words, his tone of voice, it had struck something within you, something you were too embarrassed to put into words. After gathering your resolve, you nodded firmly, meeting his gaze with a serious expression that barely masked the anticipation in your eyes. How were we going to explain this to Kafka?

"I'll entertain you a little more then," you said, your voice quieter than intended, "since you're willing to have me."

Aventurine's grin softened ever so slightly, the predatory edge in his eyes giving way to something deeper. Much deeper. Something unspoken yet undeniable. His luck may have earned him glory in the past, but tonight, it brought him you-someone who felt entirely out of reach yet impossibly close. For the first time in a while, the gambler found himself playing a game with stakes he couldn't afford to lose, or else his heart couldn't take it.

And you? You couldn't even deny the pull you felt toward him. It was weird for you to feel this connected to someone. There was a magnetism about him, something almost as dangerous as you, something intoxicating. The way he leaned just a little too close for your comfort when  he spoke, his casual yet deliberate touches as if testing your boundaries, the smooth cadence of his voice-it all wrapped around you like a siren's song, pulling you into the depths of the sea.

Hours passed like seconds in his lavish company. The laugher, the constant teasing, the stolen glances-they blurred together into something hazy and electric, filled with undeniable desire. It was only after the world had melted away-the noise of the casino replaced by a quieter, more intimate atmosphere-that you realized exactly where spending time with Aventurine led you.

A lashive private room, dimly lit, the scent of expensive liquor and faint cologne lingering in the air. You were pushed against the plush velvet of a couch, its surface cool against your heated skin. Aventurine loomed over you, just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. His hand rested beside your head, his knuckles brushing against your hair, keeping in mind how soft it was, while his other hand ghosted along the curve of your waist, causing your breath to hitch. This man was testing just how far he could go before you stopped him.

His eyes searched yours, piercing and hungry, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between the two of you changed, crackling with an unspoken desire. You felt the weight of his gaze as it traveled over you, staring from your eyes, down to your chest and waist, lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, raw, roughened by something primal that made your walls clench, your heat only getting wetter.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek, causing you to shiver in pleasure. Despite his words, the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn't hoping for you to stop.

And you felt the same way. You fell too far down the rabbit hole to stop now. Instead, your fingers found their way to his collar, tugging him down just enough for your lips to brush against his in a fleeting, electric moment that sent your heart racing for more. The gamble was all yours now, and you were going all in.

Author’s notes: I was a little too jumbled in the head as I wrote this chapter. I had a full ass cake then proceeded to just write until my hand scraped like crazy.

Taglist: @godoffuckedupcats, @sweetistic

[2demondogs]

I Was Just A Girl, Then | Arthur & John

Tags: John/Abigail, past Eliza/Arthur, and referenced VanDerMatthews; (CW) teen pregnancy (Abigail), canon character death, whole lotta brotherly angst, does it count as comfort if it doesn't work?, vignettes Words: 1.5k A/N: I think a lot about the fact she was only around 18 when she gave birth to Jack. Good grief.

Abigail is too young to look at Arthur with this much— pain. Pain is what it is, and he'd like to think his hesitancy to call it that is entirely because John is his brother, and men should always think their family is innocent.

Her hair is dark and long; her face is round and soft. In the light of the campfire, she looks like a woman he once knew. Shadows cradle her, fall harsh on the side of her belly that's facing the night. Grimshaw will need to alter her dresses a second time, and soon.

"He's your brother," Abigail is saying, throat thick with emotion, and he feels so very uncomfortable. He knows he is. He holds her hands, anyways, the knuckles rosy and chapped with the chill coming over the air in the last month, rough against his palms. She's never had soft hands, none of them have.

The seasons are changing, and so did John. He's been gone for six months.

"You know him. You know the way he thinks, don't you?" She's moved on from hoping, because he's not answered any of her letters. Now, Abigail is grieving. She doesn't know what she's asking, but Arthur does. "Why did he—?" A choke cuts her off before he can.

His face feels tight, almost as tight as his chest. "I used to know him," he says.

This grief is worse than when Abigail began to show, because now it is shared.

He thinks of Eliza, and if some other man held her hands, entirely enclosed in his, while she cried because she was unwanted, because her life had been decided for her by a wanderer who hadn't had to hold up the same burdens. Condemned to what so many girls dream of playing house, but— girls should never be with child. He looks down at Abigail's hands instead of at her face, how the fire catches the tears welling up in her eyes.

She's a strong girl. She wouldn't have survived as long as she has if she weren't, and he knows she will go on for much longer, too. It feels wrong to see her cry, and to feel the shards of heart pulsing through the veins along the backs of her hands whenever he gains the consciousness to stroke a thumb over one.

He's not used to comforting people. Not women, especially, who expect so much more than a clap on the back and a companion to sit out the silence with,the way Hosea taught him was proper for a man to offer, lest he be misunderstood. Never stopped him from treating Dutch how he treats Abigail, now. It seems so much kinder than silence.

Arthur is walking over those shards, and whatever he says could crack them into more. Abigail squeezes at his fingers and he lets her.

"It ain't you, Abigail," he says.

It's John.

She misconstrues what he means, and lets out a small sob of: "I know, Arthur."

Yesterday, Arthur wished they would've hanged him with his father before he had a chance to grow up mean. Today, he told John they should've hanged him when he was still sprouting.

After giving him that nasty, black ring around his eye, of course. He supposes it'd only be fair to give him one in return, brothers in bruises. Hosea seems more sad than anything and Dutch, more or less disappointed. Arthur thinks both are unwarranted, even if they are — as far as he knows — less severe than the anger he deserves for acting out as their son. Lyle would've given him a fresh scar along his face. His chin stings at the thought.

His son is dead.

Eliza, too, but not even grief can lie to him enough to think that they would ever spend a life together. He has little to mourn besides a woman that he wronged and his own pathetic attempts to redeem himself in her eyes, which he knew wasn't possible.

She cried when she saw him at the saloon, wandering through, all those months ago. When he had recognized her and taken her into his arms, she slapped him harder than he thought a woman their age could ever hit. They had dinner. She said he ruined her life and that pregnancy was her worst fear as if it were the weather, all over weeks-old bread that he thought tasted just fine as fresh before she spoke, and started to cry again. Then, it all seemed stale.

Issac's absence hurts differently.

Only men are supposed to die. Not boys, lest they open their mouth the way John has. Mocking him. Can't even shoot a gun let alone— and he's mocking him for trying to be a man.

It hurt because Arthur told himself the same things. He had a handle on things until he didn't, and now the reins have slipped from his fists again.

Issac's fists. They were so small, even though he was growing like a weed. Another month, he would've needed new clothes that Arthur could have stolen the fabric for. He wonders, now and then, how tall Issac would have gotten.

Much worse is another voice telling him that Eliza wouldn't have missed him had he died, because John had spoken it into reality. He had drawn it from the pit of his thoughts the way he always does — how Hosea and Dutch are able to, too, because apparently sleeping in the same camp makes your dreams intertwine and writhe around one another just enough — and he had given it life.

It's the first cigarette they've shared since John returned.

Arthur said they should've hanged him, and then said it twice more in the same week. Old habits die hard. John hadn't found it quite as funny as Dutch had, and neither had Hosea.

Dutch doesn't often realize when Arthur is capable of fratricide.

He's older now, but he isn't. John's nose still has that mean crack to it, scraggly old beard at his jaw, and he looks as much like a kicked dog as ever. Always has looked defensive, and sad. Arthur doesn't like to consider that he's picked it up from him, and that he picked it up from Hosea. The chains that bind suffocate the most when he yanks at them.

John's an ugly sight against the setting sun. He misses when he could tell him as much and John would laugh instead of saying it wasn't very fair. Fair, fair, fair— that's all men care about: fairness. Life isn't fair, so maybe John really is all grown up, because he expects some kind of civility out of a world where people like them die in the streets everyday.

He dreams despite it all. Arthur does not, and that is why they aren't the same.

Surely, they cannot be the same. Eliza cried at the sight of his face, and Abigail fell to her knees. Arthur is nothing like his brother.

He misses John terribly. He misses when he could tell him he was ugly, and when he could push him into the water and feel good about calming the panic in his eyes.

Isn't that what brothers do? Torment and save, over and over? This only feels like one or the other, day after day.

John asked to bum a goddamn cigarette when he proposed a smoke, though he must have his own pack. Arthur was handing it over filter-out before he even opened his mouth. The instruments are out of sync, but the music still plays.

He misses adding onto one another's insults of Dutch's operas, when he first began listening to them. That was only two years ago, but the memory tells him they were both boys yet.

It seems warmer than this summer evening. John's hair is shifty and blue-black where once it looked like it could've been brown when he was born, merely darkened with age. The sun used to show some part of the man that the night couldn't. Anymore he's all midnight, all of the time. And when he looks at Arthur, his eyes are full of shame that he knows intimately and yet not at all.

"She's jus' happy you're home," Arthur says, before he can speak.

John grimaces. "I know."

Arthur likes to think he is not all nighttime himself. Every loathing thought dissipates when he must confront the issue of John Marston, and he finds himself a better man in every way. Beneath the jealousy, he knows he's better in no way at all.

The creek is still from where they sit. Arthur feels the anger build up, and he can hardly swallow it down enough to even his voice.

"I held her hand while she gave birth," he says. Turns to John, and lets the hatred seep into his eyes. "It should'a been you, Marston."

John looks away, and grimaces. "I know."

He could say that she screamed unlike anything he'd ever heard before; that he found very little beauty in the newborn, like Susan had, that he thought maybe he should visit his mother's grave, if he could find it, he hadn't thought of her in over ten years; that he had seen the look on Hosea's face while he wiped the cool cloth over her forehead: disappointment, and not in Abigail.

None of it would change anything.

[coastershells]

D I V I N E . .ᐟ

IN WHICH — dallas has been obsessed with you for months.

⚠️ : uh , smut.. again… and i guess this is similar to the one i posted the other day? but like , this was an ask thrown out to the dallas x reader tag so i’m gonna try to give it justice.

ʚ ɞ / wc : 5.3k

you silently walk down the dark street , and the only possible light is from the moon and the streetlights. And honestly? you’re stupid. well , not really , but you’re walking alone as a greaser. and that’s the number one thing you shouldn’t do.

socs get so bored they would beat up even a girl , it doesn’t matter to them. meaning you’re no different.

it sucks , but you need to see dallas.

recently , your ex boyfriend has been giving you things you don’t even want. flowers , chocolate , anything you could name , he would have it at your doorstep or stashed into your locker. you don’t wanna talk about the amount of times you’ve gotten jealous stares from people around you. but there was nothing to be jealous about.

if you could get rid of him , you would. in a heartbeat. you just want to be left alone.

it’s him who cheated anyway ; he hooked up with another girl , sylvia , you think her name was? though you don’t really care for her. apparently , she was just like that.

you snapped yourself out of your deep thought when you saw a light flicker , and you being paranoid about being out here in the first place , started to pick up your pace.

eventually , you made it to the all familiar building , buck merrill’s place. while you recall dallas working here , whenever he isn’t getting himself into illegal activities , he’s crashing here , or responsibly ( like he promised ) , hanging out with you to keep your ex away at times.

a few weeks ago , you had asked dallas to fake date you so your ex could back off. it worked for the most part , but that didn’t stop your ex from giving you gifts and asking to ‘ just be friends ‘.

even though everyone knows where that goes.

you sigh as you walk up the steps , hand sliding across the rails as you take a deep breath before knocking on the door. you hope it’s heard with how the music is booming , enough to shake the house like you’re in a cartoon of some sort.

the door swings open , you notice it was a girl , but she paid no attention to you , quickly going back to dancing with her friends. you shyly step into the house and close the door behind you. trying your best to ignore the music and the smell of cigarettes in the air , you make your way to the only place dallas would be at this hour.

his room. either sleeping , or smoking.

you don’t knock first , or made any sort of sound to be let in , you just do it.

and of course , you were right. dallas was at his window smoking. the window was slightly open. his back was facing you until you opened the door.

“ hey dallas. “

“ hey. why’re you here? checkin’ up on me? you’re so kind. “ he teases and you roll your eyes.

“ actually , i’ve gotta complaint. “

dallas raises a brow , and makes a weird sound. “ mmh? do tell. “

you sigh and close the door , trying to ignore the way the house is shaking. the ashtray on the edge of the window is slightly shaking as the music downstairs booms. “ you are horrible at fake dating. “ you deadpan and he laughs.

“ sorry , but can i let you know that i’ve never done this before? usually if i’m with a girl , i’m with her. this is different. “

“ exactly my point , dallas. why not just treat me like you would treat your girlfriend? “

he blinks and stares at you blankly. “ well , you aren’t my girlfriend. that’s the thing , now listen , [name] — “

“ dude , fake dating is everything couples do just without the love. think of it like that , would you? “ you groan. it’s one of those nights he’s trying to be smart and make you look dumb.

“ i mean , “ he takes a drag from his cigarette. “ sure. i guess. you complain a whole lot about us not giving off an actual dating vibe. you like me or somethin’? “

you gag. he’s right , but he’s wrong. you would try dating him , but you honestly just wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to give it your all , and knowing dallas , he wouldn’t give anywhere close to anything.

“ no. ew , not in a million years you fucking — you fucking freak! “ you point at him with a scowl , and he smiles , putting his cigarette out and onto the ashtray , he walks over to his bed and kicks his shoes off.

“ mhm. got it. just for your ex. right. okay. “

you nod in agreement , and you begin to head for the door.

“ wait , where are you goin’? downstairs? i didn’t take you for the party type. “ he chuckled at his own joke , and the look on your face was just about the opposite.

“ i’m going home. “

“ at this hour? “

“ i walked here at this hour , for your information. “

“ dangerous girl. come on , lay down. “

“ like.. “ you turn around and point at him in disgust. “ with you? “ he nods and your face does nothing but twist more. “ no. that’s disgusting. id rather walk home. “

dallas sighs. “ you’re crazy , man. you want us to act like we’re dating , then you don’t. could you pick a side? “

“ there’s no one around so we don’t have to act dallas. please. use your head. “

“ alright , if you wanna walk home then go ahead. “ he urges you out , and you do exactly that. he looks pissed that you don’t wanna stay.

such an asshole.

the next day at school went rather smooth , you went to your same classes , annoyed the teachers , hung out with your friends at lunch , and made it to the end of the day.

“ i’ll see you tomorrow , right? “ your friend lorelai asks.

“ yup , i promise. love ya , bye! “ you wave frantically as she walks away , and another voice rings from behind you.

“ hey babe. “ an all too familiar voice speaks out. and you can already feel yourself getting irritated. “ don’t call me that , it’s over between us. cant you just — “

“ got somethin’ for you. “ he says , shoving flowers in your face and you fight the urge to sneeze , or yell. you close your eyes and with an irritated sigh , you push it away from your face. “ i don’t want your shit , please go away. “ you say as you turn and walk away from him. “ ah — wait! “ he calls out and you make an annoyed sound , with a groan , you keep walking.

“ i don’t wanna hear it , fuck off. i’m being nice. “ you roll your eyes as he stutters over his words.

“ your boyfriend is cheating on you. “

“ what? “

you don’t know what to say to that. dallas isn’t your boyfriend , but he’s covering for you. so stuff like this won’t happen.

“ what do you mean? “ you turn around and he sighs in relief when he has your attention.

“ at buck’s last night , i saw you walk in but was too out to say anything. after you left dallas was downstairs and had a girl pinned to the wall. the rest you should know. “

you ball your fist , and you don’t know who to be angry at.

you settle on both.

how could he be so damn reckless?

as soon as you get your ex off your trail , you storm to your house. you look at your calendar and you’re actually quite happy that it’s friday for once. you can sleep all day , maybe hang out with johnny and pony later , get into some trouble with them , or try your best to stay out of it.

though , a part of you just wants to rest for the whole weekend.

you know on monday your ex is going to spread the word , and then he’ll be hot back on your tail again. you wish he would just.. forget about you.

it’s totally not like he’s the one who said you guys should break up after he cheated on you. why doesn’t he go back to the girl he oh so loves more than you?

you get annoyed at the thoughts , and kick your feet on your bed , rambling on to yourself.

until those kicks and your voice came to a stop as you heard 8 knocks in a rhythm on your window.

it better not be dallas — too childish. two-bit , maybe?

you pray that it’s not dallas , or your ex. anyone but those two , fucking anyone.

instead of having to shoo said people away , you figure out it was johnny and ponyboy.

you smile.

“ hey , [name]. “ johnny says in that same voice he always uses. it’s soft , and you can barley hear it while you open the window. ponyboy shoves his hands in his pockets.

“ hey guys , what’s the matter? “ you ask , and johnny shakes his head while ponyboy speaks up.

“ nothin’. just wanted to tell you that we are going to the drive in and wanted to ask you to tag along. “

you hum in response , giving it deep thought. you figured ; you don’t have anything else to do anyway , so you’ll just go.

“ sure , when? “ you glance between the two boys.

“ well , we are just walking around right now , doing random things. if you wanna join that — “

“ don’t make it seem like we are doing bad things , ponyboy. just walkin’ around. “ johnny says scoldingly , and you stifle a laugh.

“ sure , i’ll tag along. just let me put something random on. give me a second! “ you answer and you disappear into your house as the boys wait outside of your window.

you decide on something random , baggy jeans , a shirt that fits nicely on you , and beaten up converse that johnny somehow got for you.

you fix your hair slightly , though nothing big has to be done to it because you had done it in the morning for school.

with that , you grab your wallet , and return to the window.

“ hold this , pony , “ you toss your wallet to him and slowly make your way out of the window. johnny gets close to make sure you don’t fall. you reach up behind you to close the window just slightly , you have to make sure you’re able to get back in without getting yelled at by your parents.

once your out and you fix your shirt , pony gives you your wallet back , and you guys begin to walk away from your house.

“ so where we headed? “ johnny asked seemingly the both of you.

“ i wanna see a fight. “ you say and ponyboy hesitated before nodding , johnny shrugs and agrees.

“ just gotta be out of there before the fuzz pull up. “ johnny says and you genuinely laugh.

you all indeed kept to your word , fights are easy to find around your parts , and it’s like a free movie before you even go to the drive in. in some fights , knives are pulled , guns that aren’t loaded yet scare everyone away , and some used objects nearby. you usually don’t stay for those fights incase it gets too bloody.

night begins to fall , and all three of you began to make your way over to the drive in.

“ you guys know what movie we are watching? “

“ nah man , most of the times i don’t even understand the movies we watch. “ johnny comments as he hops the gate , pony does it flawlessly , and you , lastly , slightly struggle to jump over the fence. they seemed to exchange a glance and stifle a laugh , but you try to pay no attention to it.

as you go to sit down , johnny and pony tell you to find seats and they’ll go and get popcorn , while you don’t want to alone , you shrug and do so anyways.

the movie seems to be some sort of beach movie , telling from the surfing and the screams of the girls. it’s trash , but it’s also the 60s. some said the 2000s are promised to be better. so you’ll go off of that.

you see four open seats in the near front. obviously , there’s only two of you , but the thought of two-bit coming along with the chance is high. so you take a seat in the middle. you sit down and take a view of everyone around you , you see some socs , but for the most part they seem to be behaving slightly well. so you turn from their direction. another group of people you see are greaser girls.

sylvia is one of them.

you scoff and hold your head in your palm , you were getting bored without johnny and pony. how long was the line? you had to have spent atleast 4 minutes looking for seats and sitting there.

“ hey , this seat taken? “

before you register the familiar voice , you speak up. “ uh — yeah , my friends are — “ you look up to the person when something just small clicks and tells you to look.

and you’re not very happy that you did.

“ dallas? “

“ the only one round here , thank you. “ he says , completely ignoring what you had said earlier and taking a seat next to you , wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “ thank god for that. “ you sigh and he seems to just get a little pissed off about it.

“ your ex is here , over there. “ he nods his head in the direction and you dare only look for a second. yup. that’s him. but you still aren’t very happy with what dallas did.

“ oh. “ you shift uncomfortably and slowly nudge his arm off , to which he puts it on again , and this time you actually push his arm away. “ move , please. “

“ what’s with ya? is it over me askin’ you to stay that night? c’mon. bring it in — “

“ get the hell off me , dallas. “

“ so that’s not the problem. what is it , then? “

you shrug and cross your arms. “ nothing. “

“ you actin’ like a bitch ain’t nothin.’ “

“ what did you just call me ? “

before dallas can respond , ponyboy and johnny arrive at the seats.

“ man , we were looking all over for you. “ ponyboy says and johnny heads to the seat on the other side of you.

“ hey dal. “ johnny speaks out and dallas puts up a hand. “ ey’ johnnycakes. “ dallas says as he stiffens up. dallas gives you a look , but you don’t share it , nor do you speak.

you don’t say anything at all for the whole movie.

when the movies are done and over with , bottles tossed onto the ground , and the laughing and crowds die down and leave , all four of you are left walking down the street.

“ you better hurry home , ponyboy , or darry won’t let you hear the end of it. “ johnny says , more than teasing , he seems serious.

“ i know , i know , i’m goin’. “ he waves you all off and you all say your byes.

even though you knew it , johnny was the next to go. he claimed that he didn’t want to head home and made his way to the lot. you offered him to sleep at your house but he nicely declined. and from the looks of it , dallas didn’t seem to like the idea of it either. johnny didn’t notice , somehow.

once johnny was out of earshot , dallas spoke up. and he sounded more than mad.

“ what the fuck is your problem tonight? “

“ what’s my problem? what is your problem , dallas ?! “ you whisper shout.

“ you’ve been acting like an ass , what happened to fake dating? “

you groan and mentally face palm , sighing.

“ my ex said he saw you cheating on me at the party the other night. “

“ what? “ he laughs dryly , amused. “ and you’re gonna believe him over me? what the fuck , [name]? are you fuckin’ — insane? “

you push him away and he frowns. “ maybe i am! now he’ll think we’ve broken up , and i bet he’ll tell the whole school! then it’ll go to flames! “ you sigh. “ honestly , you were no damn help anyways. “ you wave dismissively and turn the other way.

“ alright then , fuck you! you’ll believe your ex over your own friend? maybe you deserve to be humiliated at school. “ he spits , and even though it’s a dagger in your heart , you don’t turn around. your heartbeat is way too fast to that. and there’s no way you can give in.

you try to keep yourself together as you walk home ; you really do. but you can’t. your silent sobs turn into cries , and you just pray nobody can hear you. if they did , you think you would just pass away then and there.

you make it home , and slide open your window , crawling in and collapsing on the floor , and only then do you silent your cries to avoid waking up your parents.

did dallas really mean what he said?

the following day was saturday , but to you it felt like a monday. like you had to get up for something , though you didn’t , you just had an itch you couldn’t quite get to.

you decided that you wouldn’t go out that day , your parents wouldn’t be back til evening , you had just went to the movies , and you felt like absolute shit knowing what was going to go down on monday.

and the fact you had just lost a friend.

maybe you overreacted , sure. but he promised to fake date you and make sure

and to be honest , you loved dallas. you really did.

it started when you first asked him , it could’ve been anyone you could ask , it could’ve been sodapop to make it more believable , or johnny because of how two-bit claimed you both act the same , but you didn’t.

it started when you first asked him , it could’ve been anyone you could ask , it could’ve been sodapop to make it more believable , or johnny because of how two-bit claimed you both act the same , but you didn’t.

you picked the worst boy in the group , you picked dallas winston. and you believe your so , so stupid —

an object was thrown at your window.

you crack your eye open and hiss when the sunlight invades it. it’s too blurry for you to see anything , so you weakly swat at air.

“ go away.. “ you manage to mutter , but it obviously wasn’t even close to being heard when another series of objects that you make out to be pebbles come in contact with your window.

you sluggishly get up , and stumble over to the window , when you open it , you dodge a pebble without even trying to. you stare blankly behind you , mostly ignoring the person who was throwing things at your window. you hoped it was just a kid , or something , if they left you could go right back to sleep.

you almost didn’t register dallas hopping into your room without a word.

you wanna yell at him , scream , tell him to get out of your house , but you don’t.

instead you silently walk back over to your bed , lift the blanket , and flop onto your bed. you hear dallas light a cigarette , but you tune it out.

you try to tune him out in general , but it obviously doesn’t work when he speaks out to you.

“ hey. could you get up? “

“ that’s a bunch of work , man. “ you grumble.

“ alright , get up. i needa explain myself before you get all grumpy at me again. “

you already are , but without a word , you get up and sit on your bed. you push dallas away so he doesn’t sit next to you.

with a annoyed sigh , dallas begins to speak again. “ look , i don’t know why you would believe that shithead , but i ain’t cheat on you. “ you nod , not really believing him. “ you realize what he’s doin’ , right? he’s trying to ‘break’ us up so he has a better chance again. i was in my room all night. “

when you nod your head again , dallas can tell that you’re blankly not listening , he walks towards you and grabs your shoulders. and at this rate , you being fully awake , find the energy to tell him off.

“ get out of my house. “

“ you aren’t listening to me. “

“ because you’re a liar. i know you. “

dallas scoffs. “ you don’t know shit , clearly. “

“ what do i not know about you , dallas? “

“ hmm , i don’t fucking know , maybe that i’m not lyin’ and you’re believing your stupid ex over me , and the fact that i like you — “

“ what? “

“ wasn’t it obvious , [name]? “ he leans in close. too close.

and you realized all too late , it was obvious.

the way he accepted to fake date you so quick and was so happy about it , the pet names he slipped in every so often , the physical touch , the way he acted around you.

but you had to make sure.

“ like , you uh , love me? “

“ yes , you fucking idiot. i’ve loved you for a long time by now. why would i ruin my only chance to be with you? “ he says , he almost seems annoyed with the way he shakes you.

“ so.. what? “

“ what do you mean so what , you gon believe me or believe your ex? “

you both still in silence , dallas raises an eyebrow when you both make eye contact. you mumble something he doesn’t quite get , and he cocks his head closer to your ear. “ what? speak up. “

“ i said i believe you — i believe you dallas. “

“ it’s dal for you. “

you sigh. “ i’m sorry , dal. i’m sorry for not believin’ you and being an ass. “

“ it’s fine. i’m gonna beat that little shits ass when i see em’ though. “ he says as he backs away from you , and sits on your bed.

“ where’s your parents? “

“ work. wont be back til evening. “

“ evening , huh? “ dallas repeats what you said. “ it’s barley 6am , y’know , that could leave us time to.. “ dallas trails off , and it only takes a second to click what he wants.

“ wha — dallas — already? i mean , are we even — “

“ what we are is up to you , sweetheart. i personally have my own opinions , but your the boss. just make sure you aren’t flirtin’ with any guys , yeah? “ dallas teases and tangles his hand in your hair , you smile nervously , and fidget with your hands.

the action is slowly stopped as he took one of your hands and held it with his other , you jolted a bit when he pushed your head in for a kiss , you could barley catch your breath and the fact that this was the dallas winston giving you a kiss didn’t help with your breathing. when he pulled away , he couldn’t help but laugh at you trying to catch your breath.

“ s’pretty. can’t believe this is all mine now. “ he whispers to nobody in particular and gently pushes you farther onto the bed , and you feel yourself heating up already.

“ is this okay , doll? can i do this? “ he releases your hair and places a hand on your stomach , slowly trailing it up , you get goosebumps but you don’t comment.

“ y — yeah.. please.. “ your plead falls silent as he finds his way to your chest , and massages your breast.

“ tell me if i’m too rough. i don’t mean to be. “ and that’s something you didn’t expect from dallas , you expected him to maybe be rough , and just apologize after.

and that gets you thinking.

does he even know what aftercare is?

it’s honestly harder than you expected to focus on thinking and what he’s doing to you as of now. you thought it was a joke of how hard it is to concentrate in situations like this , but it indeed isn’t. not when he’s still apologizing for the things he said to you , which is surprisingly in itself to get an apology from the dallas winston , but he’s also telling you how great you’re doing and being ever so gentle.

“ dallas — “ he makes a sound of disapproval and you weakly clear your throat. “ dals , can you — can i — have a , uh - like , y’know.. a — “ before you can form the word , dallas’ lips are already crushed on yours , and you can’t bring yourself to pull away again , you just sink into the bed.

dallas removes his hand from under your shirt and he slowly travels his hand lower and lower , eventually finding a grip on your pants and panties at once , and you can’t say that you were ever ready for the way he pulled them both off and discarded them off your bed. in a desperate attempt of covering yourself , you stretch your shirt.

“ don’t gotta hide from me. god , so beautiful , doll. so beautiful. “ he grins as he pulls your shirt out of your hands , you look to the side in embarrassment , and instead cover your face. this time , dallas doesn’t move your hands away.

“ my face not.. “ you trail off as you watch him messily unbutton his jeans through a crack in between your hands , and you shiver as he drops them and you realize that he’s basically already made a wet spot in his trousers. “ wait — holy shit , dal , no warm up? come on — i don’t even know your size! “

you stabled yourself on his arms and he laughs , mixed with an inhale. “ mhm? you still need that even with how your dripping? i’ve barley touched you yet , man. “

you remove your hands from your face , and run one through dallas’ hair , and he removes his trousers. you don’t look down at all , you’re scared to. even as he leans down and goes for your neck , going way too high for any of your shirts to cover.

and you still don’t look. even as he whispers sweet nothing into your ears and slowly slides into you , telling you you’re going to be just fine when your breath hitches and you whine at the stretch.

you feel like your insides are being ripped , in a good way but at the same time , goddamn.

“ y’fine.. just fine.. gonna be alright , gonna be still f’me , yeah? “

you let out a choked moan as he goes for your neck again , except on the other side and lower than the last. when he pulls away , you nod. a very late answer but when he’s inside you and sucking on your neck it’s just ever so slightly hard to talk.

even though you knew he was gonna move eventually , you weren’t ready for it. he pulls out slowly , and like he promised , he’s gentle. a slow pull and a slow push.

“ bet your ex couldn’t do this. “ he groans , lightly picking up the pace as your sounds , aswell as skin going against skin grows with it. “ couldn’t fuck you like i will. “ he laughs dryly , grabbing your waist. you let out a whine mixed with a moan , and you render your hands utterly useless to save you.

it’s not like anyone is home anyway.

“ he couldn’t , could he? hmm ? “ he leans in close to your ear face , and you shake your head , in response , he makes a face of disapproval. “ words , doll , words. “ he urges you , and you have to actually think in order to say your answer.

“ n… fuck — no , he — he couldn’t. “ you gasp out most of the words , and that must’ve riled him up because his pace picked up even more , and at this point , words weren’t even possible. just gasps and moans , and whatever other sounds you could make out.

so much for gentle.

you get a tingling feeling in your stomach , and you notice at some points dallas sometimes gets sloppy and off pace , yet his grunts stay low.

you reach for the back of his head , and try to push it down , which he smiles at and leans down into yet another kiss , though this one is filled with messiness and saliva.

this time you don’t have to struggle for air , the amount of gasps you gave out were probably more than enough.

you whine into the kiss as that feeling in your stomach swirls , and suddenly you aren’t doing such a great job at that ‘ staying still. ‘

the kiss is broken with pants from both of you , what mostly disgusts you are the spit trail that falls right on your chest , even as heated as you are , it still feels cold.

“ e — ew.. dal.. t — that’s.. that’s fuckin’.. “ you try to manage , but you also can’t find it in you to actually complain correctly.

you sigh , and finally relax your shoulders. the pain on your neck doesn’t exactly go away.

you look up at dallas , and he looks absolutely beautiful. the morning sun coming in from your window makes him look like some sort of greek god , except for the fact he sure doesn’t act like one.

“ so.. “ he chuckles. “ how about a blowjob? “

“ dal , i’ll fucking kill you. let me recover. “

what ? uh. i’m not late you’re late hahahahahaha

aaaaaah… this is ass i’m sorry

in all seriousness , sorry for being late !! i fell sick and decided to rot and play roblox instead. yes i still play roblox. fight me if you disagree.

taglist : @mrsdillonx , @r0seb100d , @every1hatesmayaa !!

[fivefeetfangirl]

choosing exchange universities based on where the nearest spn con is